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Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

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CHAPTER 13

“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?”

I glance down at my wife, a twinge of nausea tickling my esophagus—be

it age or upbringing, the fact that we’re standing just inside a dive bar and she

has no idea what it is unsettles me.

Age has never been an issue concerning her—in truth, I only met her in

person a couple of times when she was a child, and it was long after she

turned eighteen that I allowed myself to see her in any other light than as a

Ricci daughter.

She just has an air about her that takes age out of the equation.

Except now.

Part of me should feel bad that I’m ruining the girl’s life before she’s

even had a chance to experience it, but the other, darker part of me recalls

how mine was stripped away by her parents, and that erases the guilt.

I was far younger than she.

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