“You deserve a reward for all I put you through.” “You’re my reward.” “What a rotten reward I am.” “Not to me. Why do you think everyone needs some sort of recompense for being around you?” he says, his voice so gentle I almost start to cry. He wraps an arm around me, pressing me against his chest, and I can feel the light touch of his hand on the back of my neck, fingers stroking my hair. “You don’t owe me sex. You don’t owe me anything. I’m with you because I want to be. And if we’re together, it’ll be because we both want to be. And we are going to London together because we want to. And
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