“If I had a son—” he suddenly says. I turn to look at him, hands behind his back again, anxious eyes staring into nowhere. “If he asked me for any advice about…personal matters—personal relationships—I wouldn’t have a whole lot to say, because I don’t know a whole lot about it. But I would say that—” He stops himself and makes a sound of a half-formed word, then stops himself again. He takes a breath and speaks in an uncharacteristically unhurried way. “Life is a bit more difficult for women. More difficult than it is for us, I mean. And you don’t need to ask them to explain why or understand
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MY HEART
