3. SATURDAY NIGHT AT THE FACTORY

.

One evening, Brian called Janet at Mrs. Starr's and, sounding very mysterious and excited, asked her to meet him outside in about thirty minutes.

Intrigued, she waited at the front gate.

Exactly thirty minutes later, she heard a fast-approaching rat-tat-tat, and the darkness was dispersed by powerful headlights. A gleaming Harley-Davidson came to a stop right in front of her, with a very proud-looking Brian at the handlebars.

"Hey, baby! What do you think of my new wheels?"

"Your new wheels are just fine, Bri. Your brain could use a tune-up. What were you thinking? You told me you were gonna buy a car."

"So I will. Someday. For now, something more adventurous, more exhilarating – "

"More dangerous! Brian, are you crazy? Don't you know these things are death traps? You are not riding this infernal machine, and that's final!" She made a dramatic pause, and then her stern expression dissolved into an impish smile. "Not unless I am riding with you."

"Say no more, my lady. Way ahead of you." Reaching under the seat, he produced another helmet and handed it to her with a bow. "Do I know my woman or not? Hop on!"

She hopped on.

"Just watch where you put your hands, baby. You don't want me distracted."

"Of course not. That's why I am not gonna be sitting behind you much longer. Only until you've taught me to drive and I've gotten my license. Then you'll have to watch where you put your hands."

...

Officer Jay Garfield, a good-looking blond young man, sat fuming behind the wheel of his black-and-white.

His partner Mike had gone into the late-night shop for coffee and donuts, which was code for chatting up the girl behind the counter. He sure was taking his sweet time.

Jay scratched his head under his peaked hat and for the hundredth time ruminated on how he had ended up here, at the bottom rung of the department's career ladder.

So, he had left his handcuffs in somebody's apartment, and a pair of young idiots got themselves handcuffed to each other. Big deal. He did get them back none the worse for wear, didn't he? So, he had forgotten where he had parked his police cruiser. It's not like he had sold it, right? So, he had misplaced his service pistol – Okay, that one was bad. Could have been bad. But it had all ended well, although no thanks to him. Did that mean a guy did not deserve another chance?

Instead, he had been demoted to beat cop and assigned to patrol the quietest, sleepiest street in Santa Monica. Nothing ever happened here!

Jay remembered the boisterous laughter of his fellow officers and the captain telling him that he was lucky not to have been kicked off the force – and shuddered with humiliation. How was he supposed to recover his good name, just sitting here cooling his heels while that old tomcat Mike was having a good time in the coffee shop?

The street was empty. No pedestrians, hardly any traffic. How terribly exciting.

Jay was just beginning to nod off when a sharp rat-tat-tat woke him up. A motorcycle was barrelling down the street. It whizzed past him at what looked like a breakneck speed, a small helmeted figure at the handlebars.

Officer Jay started the car and turned on the PA system. "Hey, you on the motorcycle! Pull over!"

To his surprise, the biker promptly did as told, hit the kill switch, rested the motorcycle on the kickstand and placed both hands on the handlebars.

Officer Jay felt a twinge of disappointment. That's it? No exhilarating chase? Resisting arrest would be too much to hope for either, wouldn't it?

He took a better look at the biker. No ferocious gang member but just some kid. Probably frozen with fear. Odds were, his parents didn't even know he was out, gallivanting around town on his dad's motorcycle.

He walked over in a leisurely gait. "What do you think you are doing, young m- iss?!" His authoritative voice faltered as the biker's helmet was removed, revealing a mass of unruly dark curls and laughing dark eyes in the lovely, delicate face of a young woman.

"Am I in trouble, Officer?" politely asked a sweet, lilting voice.

"Um... you were going too fast," stammered Jay.

"Oh, I am so sorry, sir. Was I over the speed limit?"

"Hmm... Don't go anywhere!" ordered Jay stepping back to his car to check his own speedometer. What he saw there didn't help him one bit. He should have followed the motorbike longer.

He returned to the biker. "Actually, you were just barely under the limit."

"So, I didn't do anything wrong, sir? Can I go, then?"

"Barely under the limit is still too fast, especially on a motorcycle," grumbled Officer Jay. "It's too dangerous. Can I see your license and registration, please?"

The young woman nodded. "I'll just get them out, sir." Her small gloved hand reached into an inner pocket of her black leather jacket and produced a bunch of papers.

"Okay... license... fine... registration... Hey, this is not even your vehicle! It's registered to a Brian Connelly."

"It's my boyfriend's. Brian let me have the bike to run some errands. I am on my way to pick him up."

"You are not supposed to drive a vehicle which is not yours. Don't you know that?"

"With respect, sir, I am insured on it. You have the insurance right there in your hand."

"So I do," murmured Jay distractedly. "Well, everything seems to be in order. Okay, you can go, Miss... Miss Wood."

"Thank you so much, sir!" The girl re-pocketed the papers and flashed an impish smile. "As a matter of fact, I am a better driver than my boyfriend. Although he's pretty good, too."

"Still, I wouldn't let you tear around town on this thing all by yourself. I mean, if I was your boyfriend," added Jay blushing.

"Thank you for your concern, Officer. I'll be sure to pass that along." Her eyes suddenly grew serious. "I am not gonna kill myself. I still have too much to do here."

...

The young couple got into the habit of going on long rides out into the country, taking turns at the handlebars. Other times they would just cruise around the night city, familiar streets looking different and enigmatic in the dark pierced by the Harley's headlights.

Sometimes they would ride to a remote part of the city, park the bike and go for a walk, hand in hand or arms around each other.

..."Oh no!" Brian stopped in his tracks. "See what you do to me, baby? I was supposed to make an important business call tonight!"

"Can't you call them first thing tomorrow morning?"

"No. It's another time zone. They need this info by morning."

"Hang on, Bri." Janet looked around her. "Here's a payphone. You can make your important call from here if you have enough coins."

Brian reached into his pockets. "Looks like I do. Thanks, baby. It won't take long, I promise."

"You know how much I hate standing around. Why don't I keep walking, and you'll catch up when you are done?"

Before Brian had a chance to protest, Janet turned around and continued walking along the deserted late-night street.

She was half a short block away from him when she realized she had company of the unwelcome kind. Her way was blocked by a big man, obviously the worse for liquor.

"Hey, cutie!" He bent over bringing his face close to hers. "Whatcha doin' out all by yourself this time of night? Wanna have some fun?"

She winced in disgust as the alcoholic fumes assaulted her sense of smell but kept her cool.

"Kindly let me pass, sir," she said politely.

"Or what? Your boyfriend gonna kick my ass? Well, he ain't here, is he? It's just you an' me, princess."

"No, I will. For starters. He may join in later."

"Wha- Whadidya say, you pipsqueak?"

From the phone booth half a block up the street, Brian saw the disturbing scene: A man blocking Janet's way, towering menacingly over the petite girl. Cursing himself, he burst out of the booth without hanging up the phone and raced towards them.

"Hey, you, asshole!" he yelled. "Leave her alone! Step away!"

He was still a pace or two away when he saw the interloper grab Janet by the shoulders – and go flying through the air to land at Brian's feet just as he closed the distance.

Brian froze and stared at Janet for a few seconds. She stood there with a surprised little smile on her face, as if uncertain as to how it had all come about.

Grabbing the drunk by the front of his clothes, Brian pulled him up on his feet and gave him a hearty shove. The man took off, rubbing his bruised elbow and grumbling about them crazy broads.

"Wow," said Brian. "That was something. I knew you could do this but I've never before seen you in action."

Janet smiled proudly, then suddenly looked concerned.

"Oh Bri, honey, hope I didn't make you feel – I dunno… mortified?"

"What? Why would I feel that way?"

"I do have the training, and the reflex just took over before I stopped to think. A lesser man than you might've felt… er… emasculated."

"That's the least of my problems right now," groaned Brian and looked away, face flushed.

"What's wrong, love? Are you hurt?.. Oh boy." She broke into a grin as the truth dawned on her.

"Baby, that was – so – HOT!"

"You poor darling," chuckled Janet. Standing on tiptoe and reaching up – he adored the way she always did that – she hugged him and whispered: "We can do something about this problem, can't we?"

"Yeah, right. We are quite a ways from my place or yours."

"So, let's not put it off until then."

"You mean… right here, right now?"

"Why not? That jerk's not coming back, and I am not seeing anybody else around. You think this wall's sturdy enough?"

Brian stared at her slack-jawed. "Who are you, lovely stranger? And what have you done with my level-headed girlfriend?"

Janet laughed. "Perhaps she never existed in the first place. Less talk, more action."

"Right away, my lady." Brian tried opening her shirt with one hand and his own fly with the other. He wasn't making much progress on either.

"Allow me." Her small deft hands got the job done in no time.

Things were just getting underway when Janet's eye caught movement nearby. An elderly couple walking their little dog were advancing on them.

"Oh crap! Where did they come from? Sorry, Bri, put me down quick."

"Oh crap is right. Not as sorry as I am, baby." They straightened up their clothes hurriedly.

He held her to him and felt her whole body quaking. At first, he thought it was delayed shock after the encounter with the drunk, until he realized she was shaking with suppressed laughter.

"It's all a big joke to you, isn't it?" he said with mild reproach.

"A lot you know, Bri. You've got your troubles, I've got mine. Do you think girls don't have the same problem?"

"I know better than to think that."

"There you go. But admit it, that was kind of funny."

"If it weren't so painful – Hang on a minute! Oh my goodness!" He slapped his forehead. "I know where we can go! It's right around the corner!"

"What's right around the corner? Whatever it is, how did we just happen to be nearby?"

"You'll see. There are no coincidences, right? We were meant to come here, of all places!"

After a short walk, they found themselves in an industrial area. Janet looked around in bewilderment at the dark, foreboding buildings.

"Bri, you know I would trust you with my life, but what on earth – "

"A-a-and we are here!" he announced like a stage magician yelling "Abracadabra!"

"Where's here?" They were standing outside a small one-storey building which looked as deserted and uninviting at this late hour as the rest of the block. It looked nothing like an inn or a motel or anything which might suit the purpose.

Brian pointed to the sign above the entrance: "Connelly & Sons, Woodworkers and Cabinetmakers".

"This is a furniture factory? What are we doing here?"

"You do know Connelly's my last name, don't you? I am the Sons, or one of them, at any rate."

"You gotta be kidding!" Janet shook her head incredulously.

"Why? You knew I worked in a factory."

"I knew you worked in a factory. I didn't know you owned a factory."

"Are you disappointed?"

"Of course not, silly! Just never made you for a king of industry."

"Gee, it's not as grand as all that!" laughed Brian. "It's just a small business – my dad, my kid brother and yours truly. We do hire a few more guys when we get a big order, but that's it. Anyway, what are we doing still standing here?"

He unlocked the front door and ushered her inside. A switch clicked, and a dim light came on near the far wall.

The cavernous space – the building was larger than it had looked from the outside, the strange shapes of bulky objects in the semi-darkness, the heady aroma of freshly sawed wood… Janet felt as if she had crossed over to an unfamiliar world. It had an odd effect on her, heightening her arousal until it became unbearable.

The incident with the drunk had left her feeling more alive than she had felt in a long time. Putting her self-defense training into practice and taking care of herself instead of waiting meekly to be rescued by a man had been a powerful high.

If not for the passers-by, she would have jumped Brian's bones right there, in the street.

Brian led the way to a corner where a few mats were stacked. He pulled one down onto the floor, stepped away into the office and reappeared carrying a couple of blankets and clean bedsheets.

"Nice setup!" exclaimed Janet. "So, this is where you guys bring your dates?"

"Would you believe me if I said you were the first girl I've brought here? I don't know about my brother. I could vouch for Dad, though. The only date he could've brought here is Mom."

"Your parents go out on dates?" giggled Janet.

"Yep. Date nights. The old folks keeping the romance alive. However, I doubt this would be Dad's idea of a romantic evening."

"Then why do you have all this bedding here?"

"Once in a while, we get an order so large we have to work pretty much around the clock. So, we just crash here for a couple of hours and then keep going."

Kneeling, he made up an improvised bed and pulled her down to the mat.

Janet shivered. "It's chilly. Is there a draft in here?"

"Sure, you can always feel it down on the floor. Don't worry, it's gonna get warmer."

"It better." She stretched out on the mat and patted her chest. "You. Here. Now."

Early on in their relationship, he had worried about crushing her small-boned, delicate frame with his massive weight. By this time, however, he had learned that her bones were small but strong. And also, that she enjoyed the feel of him on top of her.

"Still cold?" he whispered fully covering her with his powerful body. All he heard in reply was her moan.

Her arms and legs wrapped around him in a tight embrace, his healthy young sweat dripping off his chest onto her, she could feel his back was icy cold. Her hands groped around behind him until she found the edge of the blanket he had thrown over them. By now, it had slipped half off.

Keep him warm, a voice in her head was saying. Keep him warm.

She grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to cover him. Before long, it had slipped off again.

All through their wild lovemaking, wave after wave of passion rising and being quenched and rising again, she kept pulling the blanket over him.

...

"Wow, baby... I'm not sure I'll ever be able to catch my breath."

"Same here."

"Excellent. Want more?"

"Always. You know it. But let's leave something for next time, okay? What's the time, anyway?"

"Who knows? Who cares? The earth has stood still."

"Oh my goodness, Bri, it's nearly morning! Let's move." She rose lithely. "I hope you remember where we parked the bike. I've no clue how to get there from here."

Her clothes lying in a heap next to the mat felt cold. She pulled them on hurriedly.

"Bri, come on, get dressed! What are you still doing down there?"

He was kneeling on the mat at her feet. "What does it look like I am doing?"

"I'd rather not say." She laughed softly. "Worshipping a deity?"

"Perhaps." His voice suddenly sounded sober. "Would you rather I got on one knee?"

She reached for his hand to pull him up. "Bri, sweetheart, please..."

"I know, bad timing for this conversation. Isn't it always?" He rose to his feet. "Janet, listen to me. Every time I get anywhere near mentioning marriage, you shut me down. Is there any reason we shouldn't get married? We are both in our mid-twenties and doing fairly well in our jobs. We could afford a modest apartment for just the two of us, and there can be no question of whether I love you. Whether or not you love me, on the other hand – "

"No, sweetheart! Please don't think – "

"Don't think what, Janet? Please tell me what I shouldn't think. Because unless you level with me and tell me the truth, I will be making all kinds of wild guesses which may be much worse than the truth." He took her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes which were beginning to glisten with tears. "There we go again. You either clam up or start crying. Okay, now really is bad timing for this. But you better start thinking about what you are gonna say, because we are having this conversation sometime soon."

...

Brian didn't call or come to see her the next day. Nor the day after.

That night, after hours of shared ardor, he had dropped her off on her doorstep, curtly wished her a good night, gunned the Harley's engine and was off. And vanished.

A week later, there came a sharp rap on Janet's door. Huddled miserably on her bed, she jumped and stared at the door in irrational hope. But it was only Mrs. Starr.

"Child," she said in a commanding tone, "call the boy."

"But Mrs. Starr!" Janet raised her tear-flooded face from the pillow. "What's the point? He won't have anything to do with me."

"Oh? Did he tell you that?"

The girl shook her head, sending tears flying in all directions. "I know. I just know."

"You know, eh? May I?" The landlady sat down on the edge of Janet's bed. "Funny thing, language. There are so many idioms in your American English, such as "never say die", "it ain't over till it's over" and the like that you'd think once in a while someone might actually take that under advisement."

"Mrs. Starr, you didn't hear the way he sounded the last time I saw him. You didn't see the way he looked at me. I knew he had made up his mind to end it. What else can it be?"

"Literally anything. It could be what you said. Or something completely different. Endless possibilities."

"No." Janet heaved a sigh and hung her head. "He's done with me, and I don't blame him. He thinks I don't love him. It's over."

"Oh, is that what it is? You are right, that should do it. Of course, if you don't love him... You don't, do you?"

The young woman stared at her in confusion.

"You don't seem to be too clear on the subject," continued Mrs. Starr. "As for me, I just got my answer. You've called in sick and have been holed up here for days, starving yourself, crying your eyes out, all broken up over a man you don't love. Did I get that right?" She paused. "Child, you are a smart girl, so don't be an idiot. Go downstairs and call the boy. Now."

...

Each ring of the phone on the other end of the line sounded like death knell. Finally, it was answered by a high-pitched man's voice she recognized as Steve's: "Hel-low?"

"Hi, Stevo. May I speak to Brian, please?" she said weakly.

"Well, well, well, look who is here! None other than Madame Janet!"

"Yes, it's me. Please let me talk to him."

"Aha, so now you want to talk to him? Lady, haven't you caused enough trouble already? I don't know what you did to the poor guy but it will be a miracle if he pulls through. If he doesn't, his agony and death will be on your conscience forever. I hope you are happy. If you ever as much as – "

"Give it here, you asshole!" She heard the roar of George's voice in the background and what sounded like a scuffle and a hearty smack upside the head. Then: "Hello, Janet? George here. The sane roommate. Never mind this jerk. He doesn't have a life, so he gets his kicks from messing with other people's. Listen, Brian's sick as a dog. Bronchitis. He's had a fever for days, so he's been pretty much out of it and unable to talk worth shit. What did you guys do that night you last went out, I wonder?" There was a warm chuckle in George's voice. "Okay, none of my business. Anyway, his fever just broke, so he's coming out of it now, and first thing he did was write down your number for me. I was just gonna call you when you beat me to it, and my ass of a roommate decided to have some fun at your expense. I promise, Brian will call you the moment he gets his voice back. Hey, Janet! Hello, you there? You okay? You sound kinda weird. Are you sick, too? Seriously, what were you guys up to that night?"

...

They sat on the stairs in Brian's building, their arms around each other.

"Baby, how could you think that? Even if I did want to break it off with you, would I do it that way, like a coward?"

"Just try to imagine for a second how it looked to me. You were clearly upset when we part at night, and then I saw neither hide nor hair of you for a week. What would you have thought in my place?"

"You have a point. I am sorry I made you worry."

"Worry! Worry doesn't begin to describe it."

"So sorry I put you through all that," he said remorsefully, trying to hide from her his delighted smile.

"As long as you are okay," she whispered against his shoulder.

They sat in silence for a while.

"So, do you want to talk about why I was upset that night?" he asked at length. "I told you we were going to have that conversation. You can't keep running away from it."

"Oh Bri..."

"I've been hearing nothing but "Oh Bri" for months. Can I finally hear some words that would make sense?" He took both her hands in his. "Janet, look. We've been dating for almost a year. You spend pretty much all of your spare time with me, so it's unlikely there's another guy. If I had ever doubted that you cared about me, after what's just happened I needn't worry on that account. If by this time you still don't know whether I am the one – "

"It's not that!" Yanking her hands free, she covered her face with them. "I am not sure if – if I am the one. For you."

"Shouldn't I be the judge of that? I am not taking this lightly. True, I did fall for you on first sight, but by this time I've gotten to know you pretty well. What can be so terribly wrong with you that I am still unaware of?"

She just shook her head, her face still hidden.

"Baby. Baby, look at me." He waited till she brought herself to face him. "Does this have anything to do with – with what happened that night? Our first night. Before you came to me. Is that it?"

She stared at him in terror.

"Okay, don't say anything, just listen. Whatever happened to you that night wasn't your fault. You have nothing to blame yourself for or be ashamed of. If that's what the problem is."

"So, you've known all along…" She sounded deflated, as if the worst she had been dreading had just happened.

"Did you think I wouldn't piece it all together? You told me you couldn't bear to be alone that night. You were shaking all over. I asked you what was wrong, and you begged me not to. I kissed your hands and saw your knuckles were bruised. I got the picture right away. Just not the whole picture.

"At first, I hoped you had been able to fight your way out of it. I hoped you had punched the bastard hard enough for him to leave you alone. But then, later – You lay in my arms and cried and cried, as if your heart was broken. And then –

"You had told me before you had never been with a man, and I had no reason to doubt it. And when we made love that night... I could tell right away you were inexperienced. Not that you weren't great, make no mistake!" he hastened to add. "But it was clearly your first time. And you were sore. As gentle as I tried to be, wherever I touched you, you were sore. You tried to hold it in but I knew. And yet – and yet, a virgin you were not."

She gave a slight gasp and nodded without looking up.

"Baby, listen to me. You've been through a severe trauma but you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I do so have lots to be ashamed of!" She straightened up, her voice rising in sudden vehemence. "How foolish I was, how trusting! How easy I made it for him! How wrong I had been about him! Oh Lord, I feel – I feel tainted! Soiled!"

"Oh. So it was somebody you know. That's even worse."

"He had never – " she began but Brian gently covered her mouth with his hand.

"I don't want to hear anything about him. To me, he is not a man. Not a person. I don't want to know anything that could humanize him in my eyes."

"But Bri, he is not really – "

"What did I say, Janet?" he thundered. "What did I just say?" She could barely recognize him. The sweet, mild-mannered young man had turned into a furious lion.

Suddenly, he scowled. "Wait a minute. You didn't – you don't – do you love him? Is that why you won't marry me?"

She couldn't utter a sound to save her life. The silence hung there between them, heavier than granite. A beat, two beats –

"I see," he said finally, his voice as cold as granite. "Now I see."

"Bri!" She finally found her voice. "It's nothing like that! Not even close!"

"Why should I believe you?"

"Maybe because I have never lied to you!" Her own temper flared. "Or have I? Go ahead, say it!" It was his turn to keep silent. "You can't – because I haven't! When you ask me something I don't want to tell you, I just say I would rather not talk about it. But I've never once lied to you – about anything!"

"You are right. I am sorry. Now I am ashamed of myself." He rubbed his temples. "Please try to understand, baby. You are not the only one all tied up in knots over this. Do you think this is easy for me?"

"Bri, now you listen to me. And believe what I tell you. Whatever I might've felt for him once... none of that survived. He murdered it. Did a very thorough job, too. You can't possibly think a woman could love somebody after... after that. Give me credit for some dignity. Dignity!" she repeated bitterly. "I had always thought of myself as smart and strong. But when I needed to be at my smartest and strongest, I was neither. I failed myself so badly. I was betrayed by him, but I also felt betrayed by myself. That's the only reason why I am not at peace with myself and why I feel unworthy of you. If you are at all serious about me, I need you to understand this. Do you? I need to hear you say it. Do you?"

"I do, baby. I understand it. But this doesn't mean I agree with it. After the ordeal you've been through, neither I nor anybody else can sit in judgment of you. But by the same token, you shouldn't sit in judgment of yourself." He was silent for a minute. "There's no shame in trusting. What's shameful is betraying a trust."

"There's something else, too." Janet sat with her eyes focused on her lap.

"Something else?! What?!"

"Relax, Bri. This is different. Even I can't find a way to blame myself for it." She felt Brian heave a sigh of relief. "It happened back home, when I was just fifteen. I was assaulted on my street, right in front of my house – "

"Good Lord! You were fifteen? My sister Erin is fourteen! I swear, if anybody ever – " Brian's hands reflexively closed into fists.

"Listen to me, please. The worst didn't happen. The thug got spooked by passers-by coming our way at the last moment and scrammed. I was lucky enough to escape with cuts and bruises and the shock of a lifetime."

Brian held her to him and rocked her gently. "Damn right you were lucky! It would've destroyed you! You might even have died or had a total breakdown!"

"That's why I moved away from home straight out of high school," continued Janet. "I just couldn't face the – reliving that horror over and over again every time I walked along my street. I wanted to get as far from there as I could and start over. And make sure I would never let anything like that happen to me. Now do you see?"

"Baby! So that's how you were able to handle that drunk better than I could've! You've studied self-defense!"

"Yes. And worked out like crazy to get as strong and fit as possible. And was naïve enough to think that way I could always protect myself. For all the good it did me! It was as if I was destined to be – " She stopped abruptly. "I never told anyone here in L.A., not even my best friend. For a long time I wouldn't let any guy get near me. I was always on high alert. It was quite a while before I was able to let my guard down. And then – then – this."

Another silence hung over them both. This time, it enveloped them like a warm blanket.

Then, Brian spoke very quietly. "And yet, you came to me."

"What was that?" Janet raised her head from his chest.

"That night. Right after it happened. You came straight to me."

She tensed up again. "Are you saying it was immoral of me to – "

"That's not even close to what I am saying! At a time when you would've been justified if you had never wanted to come within ten miles of any male, you turned to me! For companionship, for comfort, for – for – " He gulped. "You still trusted me! This is what I am saying! You knew in your heart I could lie with you and never touch you with the tip of my finger unless I knew it would be welcome!"

She stared at him wide-eyed, as if the irony of it had never occurred to her.

"Baby, listen. That – that – scum, whoever he is, tried to kill your trust. In people, in men in particular and in love. But he failed. Perhaps the worst thing he's done to you is make you doubt your own self-worth. Please don't let him win."

"I'll try not to," she whispered.

"Just one more thing. Don't ever let me find out who it was. Because if I do – if I do, so help me God, I'll end up doing life without parole, and he, in the cemetery. I won't be able to stop myself from snuffing out the piece of shit with my bare hands. Let's hope it never happens. Now can we get married?"

She nodded and smiled through her tears. "But I need some more time, love. Just a little bit longer. I promise."