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More specifically, my mother had drilled into me that it was never, ever, my job to restore or renovate a man.
She insisted that I deserved someone already whole, someone who knew enough to not go out in the water without a life jacket. But… Pierre had one of those. I was just afraid he wasn’t blowing the attached whistle to let somebody know he was out there, sinking. I was afraid he didn’t know he needed to.