"It's been longer than that," I whisper, hoarse and my eyes fixed on my plate.
It's been a year of missing him, wanting him. This wasn't what I imagined our fucking reunion would be like. Sitting in a kitchen that doesn't feel like home, afraid to touch for what it might unleash.
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It's been a year of missing him, wanting him. This wasn't what I imagined our fucking reunion would be like. Sitting in a kitchen that doesn't feel like home, afraid to touch for what it might unleash.