Those glasses. I frown as I type, What about them? You don’t like them? LIKE THEM, she texts. They are sex in spectacle form. Seeing those words, I nearly drop the phone. I’m sorry, she says before I can respond. I had to be honest. Objectively, purely objectively, those glasses do great things for you, Ax. Once you’re out of your brutally transactional first marriage, we’re sending you into the dating world, glasses on. You’ll have to peel people off of you. I shudder. The idea of that is repulsive, of course, but it’s the fact that she’s so ready to match me up with someone else that
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