He shook his head stubbornly. "I wanted you to have what you deserved. I wanted you to have your dance. I didn't want you to look back and wish you had married someone else."
"That's what I tried to do."
I reached my hand out towards his face, forcing him to look at me. "Hey, don't do that."
"Do what?" he asked.
"Speaking as if you weren't already enough."
He shook his head, still as stubborn as ever. "You deserve everything there is to know, Mikayla. Not half a moment. Not something... adjusted."
My mother watched us, silent. Something changed on her face, pride, or perhaps even shame.
I let out a sigh, half-laughing, half-frustrated. "You think I married you for a dance?"
"Hey. Don't do that."
"That's not what I..."
"Do you think I'm here keeping score?" I gently interrupted him.
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