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Wasn’t it true, that love grew in ways beyond what he’d ever read or understood from a book? It could come from something as small as what she’d just described, or the way a person squinted thoughtfully toward the sun before she answered your questions. That was all it took, a moment enough to lodge in your mind and replay itself over and over, affecting your days forever after.
Delight was something to be indulged.
His father, whom he missed all the time, too. He had not been kind to his father, but now he couldn’t think of anything so important that it could be worth the silence.
