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Of course, I was looking.
Skye is from my first marriage — the only good thing that came out of it. When I met Zach, he adored Skye and treated him as his own. But Diane?
Skye spotted the gift as soon as we walked in. He didn’t say anything; he just gave a small smile and slipped off his coat.
“You see it?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah,” he said. “Same spot as last time, Mom.”
“It’s fine,” my son said, nodding.
And just like that, my eight-year-old handled it better than I did.
Skye smoothed his sleeves the way he always did when he wanted to look neat.
His hair was still damp from the rushed shower, and his sweater — the navy one that Zach had gifted him for his birthday — clung a little tighter than it used to.
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