then I’m going to have to think about why I dug through my closet until I found my old, favorite sweatshirt to give to her, even though I did laundry yesterday. It definitely smells like my sweat, but I don’t want Nina to smell like Ocean Breeze laundry detergent—I want her to smell like me. I’m worse than an animal, apparently, marking her with my scent like I’ve got some claim on her when I don’t.
