With a lingering touch to the upper arm, I tried to convey my understanding, my caring; and he turned, half-glancing over his shoulder, a brave smile (grief in his eyes), he says:
Look after your cousin.
I smiled back, giving my assent, the ache in my heat throbbing.
God knows best. The affairs of the heart is His domain. I can only do so much and pray that only Good will succeed this anguish.
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