tezcatl_ipoca: (csi: domestic morning)
[personal profile] tezcatl_ipoca
Al's apartment, a few days later

Spending more of my time here, now. Much of it as I can, really.

Still have to be careful, of course. Think Al's got some kind of plan in place to tidy away any evidence of our previous deal; figure I'm better off not knowing the details.

But we've been able to get up together in the mornings, mostly, and I'm here when he comes back from work - which seems to be getting earlier, these past days. And it's - easy. More absurdly domestic than I'd've thought possibly, when he straightens my tie under my chin with a slight frown for my scruffiness, or I take his jacket and kiss him as he comes in the door. Almost frightening how fast it's starting to feel normal, him and me, here. Not sure I realised how I've missed living with someone, since Syl. Knowing it'll last, god willing. Knowing that I'm home.

[Open to Al]

Date: 2010-09-15 07:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
It has been a - strange week. I have not been able to be here every night, but it has been almost every evening. When Lily saw me a few days ago, she said at once that she thought Fiona should not see me until the bruises on my face went down. This is quite right, although I miss putting her to bed. But it has meant I have been able to be more selfish, and thus spend nearly every night with Tez. And it is strange because -

I am quite sure I am happy.

My black eye has faded into a yellow-green, now, and the marks on my throat are almost gone. This has not stopped Jenkins frowning at Tez. Jenkins has the least presence in a room of anyone I have ever met - it is, I know, a skill he spent a long time developing - but somehow he has managed to make his feelings for Tez quite clear this week. I find it a little amusing, because it otherwise does not impede his performance. My employees at the office were visibly startled by my bruises - all except Jeanie, who can take anything in her extremely capable stride. I felt conscious of everyone's quickly averted stares, and it made me...pleased. So much is changing for me, so much.

I call Fiona from the office. She thinks I am on a business trip, and she talks to me happily about her day. I ask if her mother wants to speak to me, and the answer is no. For the moment I am content with that, and so it is barely eight when I dismiss Jenkins and open the front door.

"It's me," I call, quite easily, and shrug out of my jacket and tie at once.

Date: 2010-09-15 08:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"It's me."

Started to smile as soon as I heard the door, and now it's worse. For fuck's sake. Anyone would think I was happy.

How he gets through the day so uncreased I'll never know. Fucking unnatural. "Hi honey, you're home?" I call back, mocking us both, and come through to see him. "How was work? Toppled any business empires today? There's tea in the kitchen." Coffee, too, but he bitches about my coffee. "My day sucked balls." Endless paper-shuffling. Chuck the whole fucking lot in the trash, if I could.

Soon.
Edited Date: 2010-09-15 08:03 pm (UTC)

Date: 2010-09-15 08:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
Tez appears, and my smile springs up in a ridiculous sort of way. The last time I remember being quite so excited to get home was when Lily and I were first married - but that is hardly what I want to think of right now. So I do not. I think about Lily enough. My time with Tez is mine alone.

"How was work? Toppled any business empires today? There's tea in the kitchen. My day sucked balls."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Hopefully not literally. Everyone in your department is quite unattractive," I say breezily. "I shall get changed; I will be down in a moment."

With my suit put away and wearing a thawb, I feel the working day is left behind, too. As I come downstairs and walk to the kitchen, I smell cardamom, and I feel another little shock of what I suppose is contentment. I pour myself a cup and savour the first sip.

"Now," I say, and I take Tez's face in my hands. "Now I am home." And I kiss him.

Date: 2010-09-15 08:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"Hopefully not literally. Everyone in yoru department is quite unattractive."

Give him the finger idly and watch him go up the stairs, head back into the kitchen and sip my coffee. Started putting more sugar in it recently. Been craving sweet things more, since I came off the booze.

Always a bit startling to see him when he's changed. Getting more used to him dressed like this, but there's always a moment of shock. That loose thing has its advantages, though, and I smile to myself. And then he's kissing me, and his mouth tastes of cardamom, foreign and newly familiar together.

"Now. Now I am home."

Rest my cheek against his for a moment, feel the rasp of stubble against stubble. "Good. I haven't eaten, by the way." Hungrier, too, without the booze. He doesn't seem to be in the habit of keeping food in the place.

Date: 2010-09-15 08:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
Tez always looks faintly surprised when I wear Iranian clothes, but I like to wear something other than a suit in the evening, and I am hardly going to put on sweatpants to relax. He will get used to it. I am sure years of working in a police force saturated with an obsession with domestic terrorism hardly helps, but my nationality is not exactly the greatest hurdle in our relationship he has managed to overcome.

"Good. I haven't eaten, by the way."

"We can call for something," I say. "How do you feel about Japanese?" I slip an arm around his waist. "I should really start keeping the kitchen stocked," I say. "This was never intended as somewhere I would spend more than a night or two at a time, but it seems a shame not to use the kitchen." I stroke the small of his back. "I would like to cook for you," I say. It is strange, the satisfaction I am taking in these everyday things. "But takeout will have to do tonight. And what did you want to do after that?" I am sure I can think of something if he cannot.



Date: 2010-09-15 08:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"How do you feel about Japanese?"

"No sushi," I say - bad food poisoning experience put me off - "but noodles and stuff're good."

"I would like to cook for you," he says, and I smile - though I'm thinking of Danika, mac and cheese, and it makes me feel sad for her again - "And what did you want to do after that?"

"Cold shower and a prayer meeting," I say absently, moving automatically to tuck my fingers into his waistband and finding it's not there. Remember something, and add, "Do you have a TV?" Trying to imagine kicking back and watching a movie with him. Strange fucking thought.

Date: 2010-09-15 08:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"Cold shower and a prayer meeting," Tez says, and I grin.

"If you want to get wet and then on your knees that is quite alright with me," I say serenely. "And yes, I have a television. Two, in fact," I say, going to the control panel on the wall. I do not think Tez has really mastered this yet - he spent some time swearing over how to turn the lights on. I flick a couple of switches, and a screen descends in front of my cross trainer on the other side of the apartment, and a larger screen on the wall near the sofa.

"I do not watch very much television," I say, picking up the phone to call for food. "CNN or Bloomberg when I work out, sometimes. Which makes me think of another thing - I should have more gym equipment. I only have a couple of pieces here. Let me know if you want anything." I call a local restaurant and ask them to deliver. When I hang up I turn back to Tez. "Films, sometimes." Usually things Lily would not want to watch. "Or porn, occasionally." I grin at him. "Although I am rather picky when it comes to that."

I come back across the room and kiss him. With Tez nearby, I am reminded of that poem of John Donne's - If they be two, they are two so / As stiff twin compasses are two; / Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show / To move, but doth, if th' other do.

Date: 2010-09-15 09:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"If you want to get wet and then on your knees that is quite alright with me." Bit of a tug in my groin at that. Damn you, Al.

...Of course his tv's incredibly hightech. Of course. And who the fuck watches CNN while they work out?

Same person who offers to buy me gym equipment, just like that. "How would you survive," I say drily, "with only a couple of pieces of clang and bump hardware? Got a list of exercises from the physio - I'll give it to you and you can figure out what you want to get."

"Or porn," he says, putting the phone down, "though I am rather picky when it comes to that."

He kisses me, and I grin. "Really? Never been particularly picky myself. Though I always had a few - favourites." Never let most people know what, of course. "Sure you can imagine the sort of thing."

Look at him speculatively. "So - you got porn here?" Hard to imagine Al jerking off to porn.

Date: 2010-09-15 10:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"How would you survive with only a couple of pieces of clang and bump hardware? Got a list of exercises from the physio - I'll give it to you and you can figure out what you want to get."

I smile at him.

"I have assumed you like the way I look," I say, pressing into him a little. "And feel. I do not stay like this without some effort."

"Really? Never been particularly picky myself. Though I always had a few - favourites. Sure you can imagine the sort of thing."

"No," I say, giving him an innocent look, "I cannot guess at all. I would like you to tell me."

"So - you got porn here?"

I shrug.

"Some. I do not tend to use porn to masturbate," I say. "At least, not since I was a teenager. Sometimes my guests have enjoyed watching it," I say, flashing him a grin. "Like having an aperitif, I suppose." I sit down on the sofa and draw him down with me. "Most porn," I say, "is a little mechanical for my tastes. Though I can appreciate technical precision."

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Date: 2010-09-17 08:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"Don't think your father would've appreciated me much at all. And not just cos I'm male."

I snort.

"He probably would have had something to say about me getting in bed with the law, yes."

He lets me undress him. There is nothing urgent about it, nothing even overwhelmingly sexual. It is strangely comforting, to shed our clothes together. I unfasten his belt.


"I didn't think I did. Until I went back. Then - it was the smells of the place, weirdly. Just...when I got back, it was like Excolo smelled wrong. Now...I think of it more. Don't think I'd go back."


"And your brother is dead," I say gently, unzipping his pants. I kneel down to pull them off, and I kiss the inside of his thigh. And so is my father, dead for years, but it is only now that I have begun to exorcise him. Perhaps we are ridding ourselves of our ghosts.

Date: 2010-09-17 12:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"And your brother is dead." Think of saying, thank you, Al, I was aware, but my heart's not in being bitchy. And I know what he means, anyway, so when he kneels and kisses me I rest my hand lightly in his hair, lifting my bad leg out of my pants leg.

"Yes," I say, simply. "He is." I look down at him kneeling there, and feel a kind of twinge around my heart. It's closer to pain than love, I think, this feeling, but it's not a bad sort. More like the pain when something's healing than when it's rotting, for once.

"I hate that we wouldn't have this, if he wasn't." I didn't mean to say that - just came out of its own accord. Suppose I have to run with it, then, and I sigh. Not what I wanted to be discussing. "That I - gave him that much power." I brush Al's hair back, trace his hairline with a finger.

For all that my voice's calm enough my heart's going fast. Only discussed this once, ever, with him, and never sober.

Date: 2010-09-17 12:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"I hate that we wouldn't have this, if he wasn't. That I - gave him that much power."

I look up at him. His hand is very gentle on my hair.

"I hate him," I say flatly. "I hate him the way I hate Gabe. Maybe more," I say, and is that not a thought? "Because he hurt you, not me." I stroke the inside of his leg and stand up. "Our families fucked us up quite well," I observe, drawing him to me, bare skin against skin. "But we can leave that behind."

Date: 2010-09-17 12:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"I hate him the way I hate Gabe. Maybe more." Feel my throat close up at that, so that I can't speak until he's pulled me in against him. "Our families fucked us up quite well. But we can leave that behind."

I put my arms round him. His gentleness always amazes me, when he shows it. I know that I'd kill Gabe, if I could. Find the knowledge sitting in me, just like that. I think I'd enjoy it.

I should feel wrong about that, but I can't, holding him like that. Just think about the youth he must've been, how he was broken. I'd do it, Al. Thought makes me press against him a bit more firmly.

"We can leave it all behind." I drop my head and kiss the place where his neck joins his shoulder, very gently. I remember him saying he'd kill anyone who stood in our way, and think how the muzzle of his gun pressed up against my jaw. My hand brushes down to his ass, rests there lightly.

Date: 2010-09-17 12:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
He presses against me. Love.

"We can leave it all behind."

"Yes," I say as he puts his mouth against my neck. "Oh, yes." I shiver lightly as he strokes my ass. "It is lucky Quet killed himself," I say, tone quite cold. "Because you know I would do it. A gun would not be enough, not for that." It has been a very long time since I got my hands dirty. But this - I would cut his heart out. I almost wish he were still alive, so I could have that satisfaction. So I could show Tez what I would do for him.

"How," I say, "do you want to fuck?" I want to give him what he wants, and I put my hand between us, get my hand lightly round his cock.

Date: 2010-09-17 01:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"It is lucky that Quet killed himself. Because you know I would do it. A gun would not be enough, not for that."

The name, on his lips, makes my muscles tense. But what he says - yes. No one has ever - the difference in that, from when - my parents - My hand closes on his ass, harder than I meant. His voice was so very hard. "No one," I say, "has ever wanted to do anything like that for me." I know he would do it. It's not just words. I wish -

"I wish I had done it myself." My voice clenches down, a tight crouching thing. "I should have." I think I'd do it now.

But then his hand's on my cock, just gently, and he asks me, "How do you want to fuck?" I breathe out hard, let it go. He's dead, and we're here. We're here.

"I worry about the day I won't be creative enough for you," I say lightly. It's an anxiety, true, but not a very deep one. I don't think it'll be a problem. "I just want to suck your cock, Al." Still feel awkward saying that, embarrassed, but it's easier than it was. "In bed, comfortably, for a long time." Grin at him and squeeze his ass, deliberately this time. "Feel free to read a book or something. I'll keep myself entertained."

The joking eases the tension in me. "If you want to do something more energetic after, sure. But let me do that, first. You don't even have to come." I just want to be comfortable in bed with him, my mouth gentle, exploring him yet again. I don't get tired of that.

Date: 2010-09-17 11:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"No one," I say, "has ever wanted to do anything like that for me."

"You have not been loved enough," I say, tight fierce tone matching his. I kiss him firmly, closed hard lips.

"I wish I had done it myself."

What can I say to that? So I say nothing, but as I touch him I feel him relax.

"I worry about the day I won't be creative enough for you. I just want to suck your cock, Al. In bed, comfortably, for a long time. Feel free to read a book or something. I'll keep myself entertained. If you want to do something more energetic after, sure. But let me do that, first. You don't even have to come."

"Oh, yes, I shall catch up on back issues of the New Yorker as you give me a blow job," I say laconically, and then I grin at him. I am sure he can feel how his words have really made me feel, given he is holding me against him. "I very much doubt I will grow bored of our sex life," I add, in case it is something he is truly concerned about. "I love our crazy fucking," I say. "But the reason having sex with you is so good is because it is you." It is a sentimental note, but I have found myself not minding striking those with Tez. "Come," I say, holding my hand out to him. "Let us go upstairs."

Date: 2010-09-18 05:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"Oh, yes, I shall catch up on back issues of the New Yorker as you give me a blow job."

"Damn," I tell him, "it was the financial papers, in my fantasy." Don't think the New Yorker would make him hard like that. Hope it wouldn't, anyway. Difficult to be sure, with Al.

"I very much doubt I will grow bored of our sex life. I love our crazy fucking. But the reason having sex with you is so good is because it is you." My grin softens. Fuck it, Al, you'll get me all emotional. "Come. Let us go upstairs."

I have to drop his hand to get myself up the stairs - even with my new leg, they're narrow enough. But I take it again when we're up, and tug him over to the bed, push him gently down with his back against the pillows.

"I've been wanting to do this," I say, getting on the bed with him, "all fucking day." Normally I'd stay beside him, bend over him like that, but instead I push his legs apart and get between them.

Hell of a nice view.

Grin up at him - "You sure you don't want a magazine?" - and lick very lightly at the underside of his cock. The smell of him actually makes saliva start up in my mouth. This is for me, as much as him. Could almost laugh, if my mouth wasn't busy, thinking about how we talked about porn. How I used to watch it, sweaty and guilty, two men or more together; how when I'd start off I was imagining lips wrapped around my dick, but how somehow at the end, when my hand was moving fast and I was stifling sounds in my throat and my thoughts weren't under my control any more - how then it would somehow be me on my knees. Afterwards I'd feel sick and shaken, of course, and try to forget, but it was there.

I should tell him about that, I think, and how the same thing happened with images of fucking. I think that he'd enjoy that.

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Date: 2010-09-21 10:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
My legs tremble as I come down, panting hard. I feel loose-limbed, relaxed, but Tez's muscles are still tense around me. I let go of his hair, shift the arm around his chest so I can hold him better, and put my sweat-damp hand on his cock. He is so very hard. I feel my cock give a final twitch inside him at the feel of his hardness, the heat of him, and I jerk his prick roughly, quickly.

"Come on, love," I say. "I want to feel you come."

Date: 2010-09-21 12:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"Come on, love. I want to feel you come."

Thank fuck.

There's nothing gentle about his hand, and that's good, because I don't have the patience now. I let my head hang forward, breathing hard, and when I come it's hard relief that leaves me gasping. Feels more like an afterthought than anything, something physical I needed to get out of the way so I could relax with him; the real climax was that point he was so deep inside me.

"Fuck," and my voice is raw, exhausted. "I love you. Lie down with me now."

Date: 2010-09-21 12:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
He comes hard, panting, and I shudder a little in sympathy behind him.

"I love you. Lie down with me now."

I withdraw, easing out gently, and I help him down onto the bed because I know his knees will have seized up. I lie with my chest against his back, and I kiss his shoulder.

"I love being inside you," I say. "Really, I do not know why I do anything else. Work, eating..." I smile against his shoulder, and I let out a satisfied sigh.

I stroke his hip for a while, almost drifting to sleep.

"I wonder if she will look like you," I say. "Your daughter, I mean." I am not sure why it comes to mind now. "I was jealous, when I first learned that Danika was pregnant. I am not, now. I think I am ... glad."

Date: 2010-09-21 07:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
I can't move, but he helps me without me asking. His arm over me is comforting, his lips against my shoulder. "I love being inside you. Really, I do not know why I do anything else. Work, eating..."

"Eating gives you the energy to fuck," I say lazily. "Can stop working, if you want."

I'm pretty much asleep by the time he speaks again. "I wonder if she will look like you." What? "Your daughter, I mean." Oh. Why's he - "I was jealous, when I first learned that Danika was pregnant. I am not, now. I think I am ... glad."

Interesting. Turn over to look at him. "Took a bit of getting used to, I've got to say. But - I want this, Al. A kid, I mean. I think I'll make a shitty father," fucking terrified I will, "but...yeah."

I brush his hair back from his face. "Why were you jealous, love?" He wasn't jealous of the fucking, I think. I remember what happened, when I told him about the baby. Remember it very well, and I smile a bit.

Date: 2010-09-21 08:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"Took a bit of getting used to, I've got to say. But - I want this, Al. A kid, I mean. I think I'll make a shitty father, but...yeah."

"You will not," I say seriously, "be a bad father. I think you know enough about bad fatherhood to avoid those mistakes. And you will love her, and that will help." I sometimes wonder if my father ever loved me; not in a maudln way, but from genuine curiosity.

"Why were you jealous, love?"

He is smiling a little, and I feel almost self-conscious.

"I suppose," I say, "it seemed like you could have - a normal sort of life, you and Danika and the baby, and I should not have begrudged you that, since I had it for myself -" I notice the past tense as I say it, and I wonder what it is I have now, marriage slowly slipping away and I have not the heart to hold onto it - "but." I touch his face. "I told you that I think I realised then that I loved you, even if I did not acknowledge it. I thought I would lose you. And it is not as if I could give you a family, which I knew you had always wanted." I stroke my hand along his cheek. "I myself wanted it so much that it overthrew years of natural inclination, at least for a while. I never thought I would love a woman, and I did, and I think a lot of it was because she had my child. After my childhood, after - everything, the thought of that... It was perfect. Or so I thought."

Date: 2010-09-22 12:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
"You will not be a bad father. I think you know enough about bad fatherhood to avoid those mistakes. And you will love her, and that will help."

Think about my own father - how my uncle got drunk at our apartment once and told me about how their father used to thrash them when they were boys, with the buckle end of his belt or a metal coathanger. I remember my grandfather as a grim, rigidly controlling sort of man, and could believe it. My father didn't make his mistakes, and yet.

But Al sounds so certain, and it's easy to trust Al. And he's raising his own kid, and loves her. He's got to know. "I worry," is all I say, quite simply. Did my father ever worry about that? Maybe he spent all his worry on Quet.

"It seemed like you could have - a normal sort of life, you and Danika and the baby, and I should not have begrudged you that, since I had it for myself - but." He's touching me as he talks, his fingers light, and I lean into it a little. "I told you that I think I realised then that I loved you, even if I did not acknowledge it. I thought I would lose you. And it is not as if I could give you a family, which I knew you had always wanted."

...That was what he had in the back of his mind, that night? How much I wanted a family, and how he thought he couldn't give me that? I catch his fingers and kiss them, my mouth very gentle. "You're my family," I say, and I mean it. The home of my heart, but that sounds too sentimental, when we're not fucking. "And - Danika's your niece. So there's...a bit of you in the kid, really." It's a strange sort of thought, and a pleasant one. Wonder what the kid'll look like, fair like him and Danika or dark like me.

But he's talking about his own family, now. After his childhood, yes, and after Gabe. I understand that. But that or so I thought makes my heart hurt. I could almost wish it'd been perfect, so he'd have that. Almost.

"Al," I say, and I'm still holding his fingers. I'm not sure how to say this. "I was thinking - Fiona - " Fold my hand around his. "What're you going to do?" It'll kill him to lose her, surely. But what the fuck are we going to do with a kid? Don't know the first thing about raising them. Figured I'd learn, with Danika.

Would I do that, for him? Take his kid in with us here? Fuck, I want to make him happy, but the thought of someone else, something else breaking in on us, disrupting what's seeming pretty close to perfect right now...I don't know. But I don't think I can say no to him, if it's what he wants.

Don't think I can ever say no to him, now.

Date: 2010-09-22 02:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] al-shairan.livejournal.com
"I worry," he says, and I touch my mouth to his.

"The worry will help," I say.

And then I tell him about my jealousy, and he kisses my fingertips. "You're my family," he says, and my throat closes up. "And - Danika's your niece. So there's...a bit of you in the kid, really."

"Yes," I say. "It makes for a fucked up family tree, but... I am glad."

"Al," he continues, and there is a hesitation in his voice that makes me think what he is about to say is important.

"I was thinking - Fiona - What're you going to do?"

I sigh.

"She should stay with her mother," I say. "I do not think, even with all my success in -" Tez would call it perverting the course of justice - "receiving favourable terms under the law, that any court would give me preference over Lily in a custody case." The mother is always preferred, even when the father is not in a homosexual relationship and has a history of mental illness. "And it would kill her," I say. "Lily, I mean." I do not think I am exaggerating. "No, Fiona - and the twins, when they come - will not live with me. I will just have to hope that Lily will agree to a joint custody settlement that will allow me plenty of access, but if she is angry, she will probably want to fight." And she is bound to be angry.

I squeeze his fingers. "It is not ideal," I say. "I suppose I can take heart in knowing half of Fiona's classmates are raised by divorced parents, and most of them turn out well enough." I doubt I sound altogether convinced. "When I think of Fiona," I say, "I fear that the choices I am making now are entirely selfish. But there is no peace for me outside this," I say, touching my hand to his chest. "I cannot go back."

Date: 2010-09-23 12:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com
I'm fucking glad when he says the kid - kids - won't be living with us. Feel bad for that, knowing how missing his kid'll hurt him.

He squeezes my fingers, and I wrap my hand briefly round his. "When I think of Fiona, I fear the choices I am making now are enirely selfish. But there is no peace for me outside this. I cannot go back."

My heart twinges where he touches my chest: love and triumph and guilt. "Would it be better," I say quietly, thinking of everything he's told me, "if you - pushed yourself to do that, and pushed too hard?" Don't think a mad father would do her any good, if he cracked again.

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