I dreamt him dead again twice. I didn't tell him. We played each other music through the wall and read and analysed our favourite lyrics and poems for...hours. I hated not being able to touch him.The resolution to our little escapade had in fact been quite painless after all the shouting had finished. Mum told me I had to take my phone with me at all times and I had to call her if I wasn't planning on coming home before nine o'clock at night. I sort of grounded myself that weekend any way, I. “Was Samantha emotionally able to consent?”“I don’t think so.”“What would have happened if you turned her down?”“Oh no you don’t! No ‘What if?’ games!”“Humor me. Where would she be right now if you’d turned her down?”“With her dad,” I sighed. “But we’re basically dealing with an accidental success. Not something I would have tried to orchestrate.”“I understand. I’m not telling you to do it or that you should do it, just don’t foreclose the possibility it might be the right thing.”“Hopefully, it. More

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