“Yeah, but if you’re in jail for life, in a few years, I might want to date someone new.” “Stop.” He shoots me a warning look. “Maybe in a few years, I’ll want to have a husband and some little kids running around our yard and...” “STOP.” His hands form fists as he screws his eyes shut. “Stop stop stop, jesus fucking christ stop. I won’t kill him. I’ll stop when you tell me to, just shut the fuck up.” “Okay. I’m stopping.”
