How did I get here? Maybe it was just a nightmare. That small ruckus coming from the kitchen must be Donovan. Jolting up I find myself on the bed, fully dressed, with the comforter pulled over me. The waves of my memory crash back.
Donovan. I left him in a rehab center and returned home to be sure all traces of our beautiful relationship that landed him there were erased. Sleep must have conquered me while sitting on the front steps searching for a way to comfortably greet Christopher.




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