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panic attack trying to swallow me alive.
I stopped walking.
Marcus stopped beside me.
“What is it?”
I stared at the bolted chairs near the vending machine.
For one moment, I was back there again. Alone. Pregnant. Humiliated. Calling a husband who never answered.
Then Marcus said softly, “I’m here.”
I looked at him.
He didn’t say it defensively. He said it continue reading …
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