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He shoved a hand through his short hair. “You wrecked me.”
You have nothing to apologize for.” “Then why are you yelling at me?” “I’m not yelling,” he yelled. “I’m being upset on your behalf in a loud manner.”
“Poor Xavier Saint. Too pretty for life.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m working for Satan and the Nazis in this town,” Xavier sighed.
That’s love. A partnership built on acceptance and appreciation and patience.
