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... she looked up at him.

His chest was bare, his hair tousled, lips parted as he said something, lips she had once kissed and regretted, a guilty pleasure that had been re-enacted in one too many dreams. He was saying something, but she wasn’t listening.

She felt alone, going to Neera over and over again had been like willingly choosing to be stabbed in the same wound over and over again, and now, it left a wide, gaping hole in her chest, and she needed someone or something to heal ...

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