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Noah watched him with careful eyes but didn’t recoil.
“It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to talk for me to hear you,” he’d say.
On a breezy Sunday, Ethan proposed in our backyard.
I ugly cried.
For weeks, I floated.
We were going to be a real family.
The wedding day was one of those bright fall afternoons that look edited for a movie.
The venue was a little restored barn with twinkle lights strung everywhere.
My bridesmaids bustled around me, adjusting my veil and fixing my makeup.
He held my bouquet carefully while I checked my reflection one last time.
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