“The bet,” Edwina shouts. “I bid the dissolution of our bet.” I take a step toward the edge of the stage, my mind spinning to comprehend what she’s saying, what she’s doing. More whispers break out in the crowd, and even the auctioneer looks puzzled. “What is she talking about?” someone asks. “Can we bid intangibles?” Edwina raises her hand again. “My heart.” Her voice cracks on the word. “I bid my heart, Will.”
I dont like it. Have some class. Youre at a gala
