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few months

A few weeks had passed since Kevin's ordeal in the hospital, and he was now recovering in my

apartment. The soft hum of city life outside our window had become a comforting backdrop to our days

together. He still suffered from constant headaches, a lingering reminder of the concussion he had

sustained, but he was making progress.

I stood in the small kitchen of my cozy apartment, surrounded by the comforting aroma of homemade

chicken soup simmering on the stove. It was a chilly autumn afternoon, and the warmth of the kitchen

seemed to envelop us as I stirred the pot, the rich scent filling the air.

Kevin was sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes focused on the newspaper spread before him, but I could

tell his mind was far away. The headaches had been a constant companion, and I couldn't help but

worry about his well-being.

Turning off the stove, I ladled the soup into a bowl and walked over to him, gently placing it in front of

him. "Here, Kevin, this should help soothe
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