He stared at the heart of his heart, the one woman in the world for him
Women were complicated creatures. Any man who thought he had one figured out simply wasn't paying attention.
But not all scars showed, did they?
This was what she needed… the quiet turning to the other in the middle of the night, the wordless meeting of lips, skin, breath. The trust, unfurling one pale petal at a time, that he would be there.
Guilt always makes the other feelings worse.
Hating politics was like hating the weather. Pointless, since both were inevitable.