Emily was curled up on my couch when I got back. The pup, with no fanfare, leaped onto her lap, settled down for a kip. I said,
“Feel free to break into my apartment as the feeling grabs you.”
Then I saw the tears on her cheeks. I asked,
“Hey, you okay?”
She made a supreme effort, focused, then spat,
“Do I seem okay? But I’ll be fine. I’m always f*****g fine.”
I let out a slow breath, said,
“Whoa, just trying to show some concern.”
She rubbed the pup, said,
“Keep it for some fool who gives a fuck.”
I didn’t answer, let the harshness be its own resonance. She heard it, tried,
“Sorry, I’d been reading India Knight and, you know, I used to admire that cow, then she demolishes women without children with the cruelest sentence in the language.”
I said,
“But you’re young, you can ha
