My Best Friend's Brother
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That was just one of many things I hadn’t told her.
“You’re nothing like that, okay? For Christ’s sake, look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re a writer—a popular one, working on her second book. And you’re my BEST FRIEND! If that doesn’t scream identity, I don’t know what does,” she said fiercely.
I gave her a small smile. I was her best friend—that was enough.
“You never asked who told her that,” I said after a moment.
She stilled, her body tensing. “No.”
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