Tom sat at his desk, staring at the mounting paperwork he had yet to take care of. Instead, he poured himself a glass of red wine and allowed his mind to relax a bit. He leaned back in his worn leather chair, propped his feet upon his desk and drank every drop until he had drank the last warming swallow. And then, he poured another. If only he were a young man again, perhaps he could have convinced her to stay. His heart sank again, feeling as though it were the thousandth time, at the thought of watching her ride away in that coach.




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