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The first time was warm as a promise, as warm as every time he was still there after she'd tried to push him away. Abigail wasn't pushing now. She was pulling him as close as they could possibly get.

The second time was full of laughter. Wes had always known how to make her smile, to make her remember what it felt like to be happy, even when she thought she didn't deserve it. He kissed her breathless, reminding he thought she did.

The last time (for a while) wasn't goodbye. It was until you're back in my arms again.