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Her Favorite Story

They’ve been together long enough for him to forget he’s already told that story. 

Not once or twice, but  several times. 

She can it repeat word for word. 

If he wasn’t watching for her reaction she could mimic his gestures. The eyes dart up and to the right when he sees everything fall together to introduce what he’s about to say. His  finger points at the clever part. A satisfied gleam adds a touch of color to his cheeks when he finishes. 

But she’d never tell him. 

Because when she least expects it he tells her favorite one. It begins with, “I knew you were my one when…”

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