Love’s Bitter Pill
Now, though, I couldn’t muster much interest.
Still, I didn’t want to waste the opportunity to learn something new, so I forced myself to agree.
When we got to Charles’ car, I instinctively reached for the front passenger door, only to be stopped by him.
“Sarah, get in the backseat. Bev doesn’t like it when someone else sits up front.”
So, I climbed into the backseat.
The front passenger seat was covered in pink cushions and adorned with a cartoon nameplate.
“Princess Bev’s Special Seat,” it wrote.
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