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... arked exactly where it always is when he is home. My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
"Of course," I mutter. "Of course you are home."
The engine clicks as I turn it off. I sit there longer than I need to, staring through the windshield, counting my breaths. I shouldn’t feel like I’m bracing for impact just to walk into my own house, but here I am. Well technically it’s not really my house, but I live here now so....
I swallow then step out of the car. Why the fuck I’ ...
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