Connie Boring

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“You’re so small, Fern. Delicate. And all of this is new to you. I’m afraid I’m going to come on too strong. And if I break you or hurt you, I won’t survive that, Fern. I won’t survive it.” That thought was worse than walking away from her, and he shuddered inwardly. He wouldn’t survive it. He had already hurt too many. Lost too many.
Making Faces
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