The tall roadside grass brushed the swollen ankles of the very pregnant girl. Her blistered, angry feet begged her to rest. Why couldn’t she stick around, and fight? She felt silly now, running like a child. She might as well pull a little red wagon behind her with a well-loved teddy bear inside.
She sunk down and the tears flowed. Could she swallow her pride, and ask him to forgive her?
Soon, the familiar truck pulled up beside her.
“Hey, Beautiful. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?” He pleaded so that she didn’t have to.
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