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29

How could he have this endless faith in me but so easily let me go?

How could he hold my face and hand, moments that weren’t sexual at all, but only want to fuck me?

How did he not yearn for more time, smiles, laughter, mornings where I woke up in his arms?

“Breakfast is served,” the waitress said, tearing me from my thoughts as she set our plates in front of us, the stack of pancakes so large that I’d never finish them. “Let me grab the coffee, and I’ll top off your mugs. Can I get you anything else?”

I didn’t want to release Dominick’s stare, but I forced myself to take a quick scan of the table, noticing the extra napkins she had brought and the full carafe of creamer and that we had plenty of butter and syrup.

“I think we’re good,” I told her.

“Great. Enjoy.”

I rested my fork on the side of my plate, watching Dominick cut into his first bite. “I have to witness this. My heart is telling me those pancakes are about to blow your mind.”

He chuckled. “Don’t get your hopes up. Like I t
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