“Perhaps you could say something reassuring?” After a few seconds, he blew out a breath. “Your body destroys and replaces all of its cells every seven years.” Clara sat up slowly. “Okay, well”—she pursed her lips—“you tried. Thanks,” she said with dismissal. “I read that in a magazine at the dentist’s office.” He shot her a weak smile. “Thought it was kinda nice. I figure it means no matter how bad we mess up, eventually we get a clean slate.” “So you’re telling me in seven years, I’ll forget the fact that I uprooted my entire life and moved across the country because a guy who’s not even my
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