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Bikers Were Painting My Dead Mother’s House Pink At 4AM And I Didn’t Know Any Of Them

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you. For me. For the life we should have had together.

But baby, I want you to know something. After he was gone, I lived. I really lived. These men, these bikers you’ve probably never met, they became my family. They showed up every Monday and they made me laugh and they fixed my house and they treated me like I mattered.

I wasn’t alone, Claire. I need continue reading …

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