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I even told him about stretching my husband’s pension and about choosing between paying the electric bill and buying the larger pack of diapers.
He listened without interrupting once, his eyes on the road but his attention clearly on my words.
“Let me help you properly. I mean, I could hire you a nanny. Someone good, someone trustworthy with excellent references.”
I shook my head quickly, almost frantically.
“No, I couldn’t possibly do that. I can’t afford—”
“You wouldn’t have to pay,” he interrupted gently. “I’ll cover it.
All of it. In memory of my mom. She would have wanted me to help someone who needed it.”
I refused again, though his kindness was almost too much to bear.
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