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Rich was at the gathering, but any smile he put on felt utterly fake. The year had been rough on him and bouncing back anew had never been his style. The last time that he'd been through such tragedy, he'd actually had disappeared for a couple years. Honestly, he couldn't understand why he hadn't done that this time. Maybe it was because he was getting a better handle on his own coping with grief or maybe, he just didn't care anymore. The latter possibility worried him more than anything.
Not to mention he still couldn't bear to see or speak about Delilah without becoming upset. A year ago, he'd thought he'd be proposing to her by now, and just look at where he was -- in a stuffy suit at a party that made him uncomfortable sipping on a drink that did nothing but put a burn in his belly that challenged the tightness in his chest for strongest pain.
Merlin, he sounded so morose. Maybe it would be better to just pay his respects to his old colleagues and leave them to the festivities. No one wanted a gloomy glum git at their party.
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