“Just because I might have a different job,” she says softly, “doesn’t mean we have to stop seeing one another.” No, it doesn’t. I’ll be here for as long as she wants me. Stolen nights in hotels when I have a babysitter. Dinners, if she’ll let me take her out on the few nights I might be free. I want to send her flowers when her studio opens and the lavish gifts she’ll never buy herself. Drape her in diamonds and cushion her in luxury. Keep finding new ways to make her come. But the fear won’t leave me. That when she’s out of this apartment, when she starts to rebuild a life for herself,
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