“This is my job, Luke,” she says softly, breaking the silence. I look down at her as we continue walking. “What?” “This is my job. I go on dates. I meet men. Good, bad, everything in between. It’s just another reason I don’t date.” Her eyes are stuck straight ahead. “What are you saying?” “I don’t know. I’m saying… I’m saying I can’t change everything because we have some kind of… arrangement.” The word digs into me, grating against nerves. Arrangement. She and I both know this is more than some convenient arrangement. More than three dates, more than three weeks. I just need her to accept it,
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