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over my dress—a simple navy sheath I’d bought at Macy’s on sale. Nothing wrong with it, but nothing remarkable either. Certainly nothing compared to Vanessa’s designer outfit.
“I like your style,” he said. “Very… classic and simple. Practical, like Vanessa said.”
The word landed like a slap. Practical. Again.
My mother jumped in, oblivious. “Claire’s continue reading …
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