His innocent weakness
This was my strength.
When I returned home, Mark noticed immediately. “You look exhausted,” he said, handing me a towel.
“I am,” I admitted, taking it gratefully.
“But it feels good. Clearing my head, you know?”
He nodded, watching me with concern and admiration. “You’ve always been strong, Missy. But even the strongest people need someone to lean on sometimes.”
I smiled faintly, appreciating his words, but shaking my head. “Not now, Mark. I need to do this myself.”
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