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The first time I met Weston, he was my psychologist.
I never planned to see him again.
We lived in two different worlds.
He was responsible. I was reckless.
He was the good guy. They’d labeled me as out-of-control.
He was harmony on a warm beach day. I was the hurricane that erupted through.
But one night, I called him to rescue me.
And he did more than that.
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