ck to the hou
my lawyer had couriered over sitting on the co
came back with a glass of warm water with honey, just the way
s," she sa
old Chloe, the one who would trace patterns on my back until I fell asleep, the o
ure except a mattress on the floor and two folding chairs. We lived on instant noodles and cheap wine, but we were h
my chest, "we'll have a house so big we could get l
But the love and l
r to the papers on the table, and the
a final, desperate plea from a drowning man. "Send them aw
d, the words te
forgive you. I can forget this ever happened.
ng to hear the words that could somehow glue t
n't love. It wasn't even anger. It was pity. The kind of
r silence was my answer.
chiming sound that was grotesquely out of
the door. I knew who it was
g a casual but expensive-looking linen shirt and jeans. He looked relaxed, con
led and creased. My tie was loose, my hair a mess. I was a guest in my own home.
low, smug smile.
a small finger at me. His voice, hig
ooking up at Chloe.
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