Do you want her to touch me? Do you even care? “And she thinks she can do me better and erase you from my memory,” I said. “I don’t care.” Her expression was flat, and her voice was mechanical. I nodded, ignoring the needles in my throat. “Good,” I said, feeling her breath on my mouth. “Because when you hear us tonight, I want you to know it’s because I don’t care, either. There’s nothing of you for her to erase.” I gripped the back of her head again, pressing her forehead into mine. “And in your bed tonight, when it’s late and dark, and the rest of the house is quiet, except for my wife’s
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