That first conversation bled into a dinner invitation, which blossomed into a whirlwind romance. For six months, Amber felt the walls of her fortress crumbling brick by brick. Steve was her anchor. He was steady, reliable, and his love was an uncomplicated, comforting warmth. He’d mentioned in passing that he had a daughter, Stacy, but the topic was always tinged with a sadness she didn’t dare push. She assumed it was the result of a difficult divorce and respected his privacy, content in the beautiful present they were building.
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