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Who was I to anyone? What did my dreams matter now?
I couldn’t help myself. I picked up my glass of wine and splashed it in his face. Dean sucked in a breath of shock, then quietly dried his face with the back of his hand. We both sat motionless for a few seconds, without speaking. “That drink was for you,” I finally said. “Now I’ll need a refill, please.” He didn’t argue. He simply stood, fetched the bottle of wine, and poured me another glass.
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