“He doesn’t love me,” I tell him. “Yes,” Rich says solemnly. “He does.” “No,” I insist. “He says he does, but he doesn’t.” Rich shakes his head. “He says he does, doesn’t act like he does because he don’t know a fuckin’ thing about it—but he does.” He gives me a look, trying to make his point. “Loves you as much as someone can love another person when they’ve never really seen…you know, love like—”
