He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. ’ ‘Parbleu, but I find you excessively rude,’ she snapped, marching to meet him. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. “Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. . ” John traced his finger over the meeting point of her breast and her ribcage as they lay naked on his unmade bed. I have never wept since that day.
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