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174 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 25, 2019
“We can make our own script. Both of us do that already. We make this, whatever it is—we make it what we want it to be. We make the rules ourselves, and fuck whoever doesn’t agree with them.”
"You're saying that my neighbour across the street is rich, single, good-looking, in a wheelchair, and an asshole?" He sounded like he was very messed up. Messed-up people were the only kind of people who interested me, the only kind of people I understood.
"Maybe I'll pay him a visit."
Tessa leaned back on the sofa and looked at me, sweeping her gaze up and down. "So you feed me and pay me compliments. That's you plan to get me into bed?"
I steepled my fingers beneath my chin. "Mustard is part of my plan for seduction."
"And ginger ale."
"You've been ensnared in my web from the beginning. Admit it."
”So,” Donna the wellness therapist said after she had closed the blinds and lit some incense, her usual method of starting therapy. “Your brother is gone on his honeymoon. I sense grief coming from you.”
“There’s no grief,” I said, taking a bite. The cake was vanilla, buttery, and—I could admit it to myself—delicious.
“There is definitely grief,” Donna said. “It’s coming off you as an aura. Deep blue.”
“That’s just my usual misery,” I said. “My grief is burgundy.”
“You’re a difficult case, but you’re not an impossible one. The spiritual journey is not an easy one, Andrew. It’s especially difficult after physical trauma like you’ve had, which dissociates the body and the spirit. If you wish to commune wholly with yourself, you must make a supreme effort.”
“I commune wholly with myself every day in the shower.”<