It’s why I’ve been a pretty awful daughter, friend, and girlfriend.” “I think you’re a wonderful girlfriend,” he says. And he says it so simply, so matter-of-fact, that it takes me a moment to realize what he’s said. “Girlfriend?” I ask. He nods. “That is what you are to me. I can be whatever you want me to be to you: Italian lover, sexy artist, cock machine, but to me, you are my girlfriend.”
