“Love him?” She laughs, shrill and brittle. “I have loved, had loved, would have loved him. But I won’t, can’t, mustn’t, shouldn’t. Not anymore. I loved an idea of him. The sweet insides of him, you see, the soft little heart. But I would never have wanted that heart to be mine. I would have scarred it and ruined it. He’s an animal, Sugar-Boy is—wild as any beast—but he’s too tender to ever be a monster.”
