“I won’t go back to him,” I said, reaching across the table to take her hand, “but that doesn’t mean you and I can’t keep in touch.”
Linda smiled, and I swear I saw tears in her eyes.
“I’d like that,” she said, taking my hand and squeezing it gently.
I carried my dress home that day, knowing that I deserve someone who builds me up instead of testing me. Someone who gives gifts out of love, not manipulation.
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