His head hung low, and she felt a tug at her heart for him. Maybe he didn’t deserve her sympathy, but she had been wrong to judge him and assume that he had had a privileged upbringing. She felt guilty for that. “They loved you, though. Right?” “Yes, they were always very loving. The little time that we had together, they made every effort to make me happy, but we were always broke. The pantry was always half empty, the milk always a day away from being poured out, the lights getting turned off every other month. There was love, but that’s pretty much all we had.” “But they loved you,” was all she could say. George knit his brows together. “Yes, they did.” “I only mean, well, it’s just that, having come from parents who rarely showed affection, if at all, I know that I would much rather have had their love than the material things.” She paused, testing George’s reaction in hopes that he would understand.
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