I love you—unendurably. Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Her foster parents had attended the concert in their finest clothes, Cathy in a new JC Penney dress, Larry in a suit that was too small. Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all concerned.
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