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When I see her approach wearing the dress I’d bought her, the royal green chiffon that highlights her beautiful hair and brings out the colour of her eyes, it reminds me of the very first time I saw her, and my breath catches in my throat.

“You look beautiful, Angie,” I murmur as I open the helicopter door for her.

I expect her to step straight in, as she has every night I’ve come for her, but tonight as she reaches me she steps close, her face inches from mine and, without speaking, reaches one hand around to the back of my neck.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, staring up into my eyes.

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