A Couple Of Times In Your Life,

As We Talked, I Had The Sense Of Uncovering Something Precious And Long-buried, Fully Formed. Our Conversation Was A Process Of Removing Layers, Some Of Them Easily Dusted Away. Other Layers, Requiring Chisels Or Axes, Were Left Alone For Now. We Revealed As Much As We Dared About What Had Happened During The Years That Separated Us. But It Wasn't What I Had Expected, Being With Hardy Again. There Was Something In Me That Remained Stubbornly Locked Away, As If I Were Afraid To Let Out The Emotion I Had Harbored For So Long.

Heath," She Whispered, "you're All I Want. No One Else ... No One . . .

I Want You To Admit Just Once What You Feel For Me. I Want To Know If You'll Miss Me Even A Little. If You'll Remember Me. If You're Sorry For Anything.

After A Universal Silence, Leo Was The First To Speak. “did Anyone Else Notice—” “yes,” Catherine Said. “what Do You Make Of It?” “i Haven’t Decided Yet.” Leo Frowned And Took A Sip Of Port. “he’s Not Someone I Would Pair Bea With.” “whom Would You Pair Her With?” “hanged If I Know,” Leo Said. “someone With Similar Interests. The Local Veterinarian, Perhaps?” “he’s Eighty-three Years Old And Deaf,” Catherine Said. “they Would Never Argue,” Leo Pointed Out.

Sometimes I'm Not Nice For A Reason. It's A Way To Find Out What Someone's Made Of.