“Okay,” I said. “One condition.” “What?” “That’s not the end of the story,” I said. “I mean, maybe neither one of us is ready. But we could be, one day. And maybe we will be.” “Optimistic idiot,” she said, but I could hear the smile. “And if we get to that place,” I said, “you don’t chicken out. You don’t run away, no matter how it looks to you. We set course for the fucking iceberg, full speed ahead.” She started shaking. She was weeping. “And the sex,” I said. “It will be frequent. Possibly violent. You’ll be screaming. Neighbors will make phone calls.” She started shaking harder. She was
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