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“You’re my angel,” he said, brushing the hair back from her eyes.
Her face hidden, she nodded, but her heart dropped and disappointment loomed.
It always ended the same way.
Months later, she jammed her clothes into the suitcase, scanning the apartment for the last of her belongings. Her eyes rested on the photograph, framed carefully.
His wild hair now tamed. His piercings gone. His eyes, clear and loving as they gazed at her.
She walked out and slammed the door behind her.
She was looking for the one who wouldn’t change to please her.
She liked them bad.