“Look,” he said. “I’m like you.” He took her hands and placed them on his soft soft cheeks. She touched his face forensically, like an insurance inspector. He searched her face back. What was she thinking? She looked like Colossus, her face and body turned to steel. Where was his Peter Rasputin? he thought. Where are you in there? “I’m like you,” he said again. “You’re not like me,” Diane said. “I don’t lie.” “It’s not that simple,” said Paul.
