Rachel Iuliucci

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“She doesn’t need to do that where I’m concerned.” He frowns but even still he looks gorgeous. “Oh? Because you weren’t here when she was picking me up off my bathroom floor once a week. You weren’t here when she was holding my hand through hours and hours of crying or holding my hair back when I drank my weight in whiskey. She helped fix what you broke, Jacob.”
What Was Meant to Be
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