Last night, after another week of dodging rumors and lenses, we met at our hidden table. He looked worn. "Hey," I whispered, touching his cheek. He leaned into my touch, a brief escape. "Hey." "Tough one?" A weak smile. "They think I'm engaged now. To some actress." I squeezed his hand. "It'll pass." "I just want to hold your hand down the street," he sighed, the words raw. "Just once." My heart ached. "Me too."
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