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Denial was my best friend who liked to braid my hair and call me pretty. So yep, Cal could definitely be mine inside my head in an alternate reality I liked to call Calaria.
He’d even bought me my own mug – not that he had given it to me to unwrap or anything like a normal person. My coffee had just started appearing in it every morning without him saying a word. It was baby pink with a golden R printed on it, a crown casually hanging from the top corner of the letter and a pair of wings spread wide around it.
