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I cover my face with one arm while hauling the girl upright. Abigail clicks her tongue.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Yes.”
“But I still love you.”
“You better,” I threaten.
“I do.” She rises up on her knees and leans over to give me a kiss. I return her love, uncaring that we’re squishing our two girls between us because this is important–this benediction of our ongoing, enduring love.
She still loves me and I still love her–forever and always.
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