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It wasn’t his cologne. It wasn’t mine. It was… unfamiliar.
Greg’s name on a scrapbook | Source: Midjourney
My mind, of course, went to the worst. The oldest, most painful fear in a relationship. He was cheating. The guest room wasn’t storage. It was a hideaway. A place he brought someone. The thought ripped through me, sharp and cold, but it made a continue reading …
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