theresa goodwin

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The next sob that broke through my chest was cut off when his mouth met mine again, this time warm and comforting and gentle, yet sure. His hands held my face, fingers curling in my hair, thumbs brushing my temples. I leaned into that touch, into that kiss, into that man with everything that I was, with everything I ever had be. And in that moment, I was home.
The Christmas Blanket
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