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Intimate Writhing

Maybe this time the euphoria of liberation really exploded. Until hallucination and reality became something Garrett doubted. He fell silent. Below him, Elice tried to catch her breath and blinked once. Then she looked into her husband's eyes.

As Elice looked at him, Garrett felt a warmth in his chest. He felt so peaceful. And Garrett was sure that no dream could soothe him like that. But he didn't dare hope too much.

The life Garrett had lived had taught him many things. Sometimes hope is the deadliest killer of souls. He had seen it before. In the form of a father.

But Garrett's heart rebelled. While on the other side, his health warned him. An exhausting battle where he didn't know what was right. Is it real? Or is it a dream?

Garrett stood still as if he were a statue that couldn't move. He tried to feel the situation as Elice's hand rose. Wiping the beads of sweat from his chin, Garrett snapped back.

"I thought I was dreaming."

"What?"

Garrett took a breath. He loosened his tight
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