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He shook his head and that sethi Grabbing his shirt in both fists

In reality, in that pregnant, futile I clenched and unclenchedthe motion

"Please," he mouthed

I left, and thank God he didn’t stop ala with Milton the next weekend There was a red carpet with photographers I sht of my life for those cameras and tried not to think about the fact that I had said yes to this mostly out of spite Tristan would see these pictures, and he would know just how ood night when he dropped me back off at ood kiss The ain

HeMonday in a posh café near the LA gallery

He had a black eye and a badly swollen cheek that he claie, even when I tried to pry further

Still, I couldn’t get the bizarre notion that Tristan had done it out of

I cooked lasagna for hi weekend, and then I let hiet to second base, and was half-teh I didn’t, it was nice to feel tempted I’d half feared that part of me was permanently broken

Perhaps I still had some shot at a love life

He was easy to talk to, and we chatted on the phone nearly every day for three weeks I wasn’t quite letting myself think of hi like that, but it certainly see in that direction

I wasn’t sure how to feel about it all, but I was enjoying ive , some shadow of the fervor that I’d tasted for a brief ti like the inferno of passion I’d felt for Tristan, but even so, it was a relief to find that I could still be lit at all, even if it was just a tiny flaot a call from his number, only it wasn’t him on the other end this tiht for dinner, and I hadn’t been expecting a call from him, so my tone was a bit of a question as I answered, "Hello?"

"Is this Danika?" a woman on the other end asked She sounded like she’d been crying

"Yes Who is this?"

"This is Belinda"

"Hello, Belinda How may I help you?" Her shaky voice sent me into autopilot, which for irlfriend," she proclaier