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in order to make my family stop worrying. I told him it would be an arrangement, nothing more.
I offered him a place to stay. Clean clothes. Warm meals. Some financial support. In return, he would simply pretend to be my husband.
He looked at me with quiet disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Completely,” I told him. “My name is Miley.”
“Stan,” he said. He let continue reading …
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