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... ed and puffy, probably round and swollen like fish mouths from crying.

"Yeah..."

Sniff.

As I rubbed at my face again, trying to wipe away whatever emotional mess I had just left behind, my gaze dropped without much thought. And that was when I saw it.

Right there on Alessio’s white shirt. A large, very obvious patch of dampness. It was right where my face had been resting.

I froze. My mouth slowly fell open.

Was that from me? Had I cried that much? ...

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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.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

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