“It all comes back to chicken and dumplings.” Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I kiss her neck and rest my hands on her stomach.
She’s still working on finding balance. She doesn’t half-ass anything. But I found my inner peace when I found her.
We were once many things—young, naïve, in love, apart, together again, and the six years we pretend don’t exist. It all comes back to us because we were once, but we are again, forever. Hope and salvation for each other and always meant to be.
We even have the tattoos to prove it.
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