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60. May

Gin

My thoughts weigh heavily on me as I watch the city skyline recede. I have not breathed a word of what I found, and I'm not quite sure how to broach the subject.

It was way before we met, I suppose, if his children are all grown up now.

His children...Goddess. My stomach plummets to the floor again and my throat tightens. The ring on my finger feels like a weight, and I feel sick to my stomach.

Why did he keep this hidden? We're getting married. How could he not tell me something as important as this? We haven't spoken or made plans around it yet, the marriage--my fault, since everytime he brought it up, I changed the topic.

It wasn't long before he gleaned why.

Am I pushing too hard, Ginevra? If you're not ready, we can wait till you are, he said to me one night, when I was sprawled across his chest, my fingers playing around in his hair.

No, I just..., I began, hesitating. I have cold feet is all. And it feels like I'm rushing head first into something blindly.
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