When We Were Still Ours
When We Were Still Ours: CH. 4
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CHAPTER FOUR: UNMARKED PAGES
AARON
I lie on the couch, phone balanced on my chest, thumb moving in lazy, practiced circles as I scroll through a feed full of people pretending to be happy. Nothing catches my eye. Not really. It’s noise. Movement. A way to fill the silence.
Tripp should have been back an hour ago.
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