“Okay, I’ll rephrase. If she doesn’t love me, she won’t be coming around,” I explain.
“Is that what you think?” he asks, his voice rising again momentarily. “That all this is about whether she loves you or not?”
“What else would I think?”
“You are out to lunch,” he growls. “Love has nothing to do with this.”
“Well, excuse me, Master Lewis,” I say sarcastically. “What is it, then?”
“Trust me on this one,” he says, ignoring my literary reference. “This is about a spoiled b***h who has one thing and wants everything.”
“You know what, Hal? I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I mean, you’re entitled to your opinion and all. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Fine,” he says abruptly.
He turns in his chair a little, so he’s not facing me, and looks across the room at the pe
