Melanie Olson

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“Do you still have your keys?” I nod. “I’ll return them.” I open my bag, pretending to locate the set of Chad’s house keys I’ve held onto for years. I know exactly where they are. “I don’t want them back. This is your home too.” My home? “Know what makes me fucking happy? Coming upstairs to find you asleep on our bed.” “Our bed?” “Yes, our bed.”
Maestro
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