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You're perfect

“He’s not coming,” I announce, feeling heartbroken. “You and mom should go. You have to be hungry, at least for more than crackers and cheese.”

“We’re fine. The stars are beautiful tonight…” mom croons.

I glance at Sadie. “Can you call Mamma Jean and tell her to put Tate to bed if he’s not already sleeping.”

Mom sidles up to me, giving me a nudge. “Marriage is a test of patience. Its timing is not to be rushed if the true focus is love. Leon is a proud man. He may not have taken kindly to your threat of leaving him, but he’s not one to walk away. Neither are you.”

Mom is my constant reminder of who I’m supposed to be. Not a restless soul but filled with faith and patience. Which is hard when you’re sitting in a lawn chair, waiting for your fated mate, who appears to have left you standing at the altar. I’m hurting, embarrassed, feeling stupid for forcing him to marry me, when, after all this fuss, I would rather be with him at home. I let my ego get the best of me. I let tradition tak
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