As soon as the holidays started and I was done with my paper for graduate school, we drove to Punta Fuego to nap and walk and sip wine by the beach and to read, most of all. When we got home I sprained my ankle for the first time in my life and felt like one of Hemingway's tragic war heroes. He took me to dinner regardless, to Champetre where I had the most wonderful meal of my life last year. It feels splendid to be so loved.
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