“So . . . what you are saying, Claire, is that you want me to step in and be Wade.” My face falls. “What? No.” “Yes, you do.” “I don’t. I swear.” “You want me to live in Wade’s house, with Wade’s wife . . . with Wade’s children.” I stare at him. “What about fucking me, Claire?” he cries. “Where the fuck is my life?” My eyes fill with tears at his anger. “Tristan,” I whisper. “I want my own wife, Claire, with my own children and to live in a fucking house that we choose together.”
