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« He’s trying, sweetheart. »
But Dean never showed up.
His unopened gift sat beside the other presents.
By the time the candles were blown out and the last guests started leaving, I’d gone from disappointed to angry.
I said goodbye to Noah and headed home alone.
Traffic slowed near a row of restaurants.
That’s when I noticed a familiar car in the parking lot.
Then I saw the license plate. It was Dean’s.
I stared at it.