He was standing a little ahead of us with my bag in his hands. I didn't owe him the answer, but maybe I owed myself one. I don't think it's that kind of cold. He's gone crazy again.
I shook my head, and let my hands fall into my lap. He smiled and his face softened. The coughing fit had tightened me around him again, and it jerked him up on his arms, pushed him one last time against me, which made me writhe under him. It was only the lights over the sink, not that much light, but I blinked like a deer in headlights.
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