“Don’t get that look on your face like you suddenly have some deep insight into my psyche,” I warn with an irritated click of my tongue. “It’s all very much on the surface. My father treated my mother terribly in their divorce, like tons of men before and after him, and I want to even the playing field. You all call me The Castrator. You know what I bet they call Paul Sheffield for doing the same fucking thing? A really good attorney.” He's quiet for a moment and finally nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
