"You've changed so much. There was once a time when you would've cut off your own arm before raising a hand in anger to me." I know, ag... Camille," h... stammered, censoring his words. "I wish we could go back in time, get our lives back, but it's not possible." How did you get like this?" She looked at the man that had once been the center of her universe. His handsome face, his hair, were the same as she'd once known, though his body had changed in appearance with the scars. It was his eyes. She was so vibrant, so alive, so loving, so giving that he convinced himself not to think about what would happen a few hours from now when he had to leave. She was perfect for him, flawed but unapologetic, intelligent but childlike, beautiful but unknowing. A conundrum that he would be more than happy to spend a lifetime trying to solve. He slept but he awoke early, checking the clock as she lay spooned in his arms. Eight o’clock. Chauncey would arrive in an hour and a half and he would be out. More

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