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... t even tell if it was embarrassment, anger, lust, or an unholy mix of all three. All she knew was that Atticus’s coy smiles and subtle teases left trails of fire all over her skin.

He was going to burn her alive and she would still gladly let his flames consume her.

His strong hands came to her buttcheeks, grabbing them with a slight squeeze, an action that caused Daphne to jolt a little. The slight bit of movement — paired with how closely they were positioned right next to each ...

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The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

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At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.