All scars tell a story, beautiful girl,” he said, releasing me to trace the marks on my stomach. “Yours are tellin’ me how healthy and f*ckin’ perfect my kid is gonna be.”A tear slid out of the corner of my eye. “Shut up,” I whispered.“And mine,” he said softly, grabbing my hand, trailing my palm across his cheek and then his chest. “Tell the story of how I found you.
-Madeline Sheehan
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