Stuff like that. Things that scare people. Like spiders? I finished.Emily waited before answering, gazing closer at the scurrying creature. His web gl...ttered under the sun, its parts shining like white neon tubes.?I’m not scared of spiders,? said Emily at last. ?In fact, I quite like them. I think I like all living animals. Everything. Anything that’s alive must be worth living.?I smiled warmly at her logic – it was the kind of thing I might of said, and as much as I don’t enjoy mosquitoes,. I left at three, unable to work and unwilling to spend a minute more torturing myself, imagining him packing his bags. My unease only grew as I got closer to home. Pent up breath burst from my lungs when I spotted his old Porsche on our street. I didn’t let my relief deter me, though.“We need to talk,” I said. “Even if you don’t think so.”I’d found him in the kitchen doorway, heading to the living area. At my words, he turned toward me with his hands out low, as if he wanted to pull me in for a. More

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