She shuffled, kicked her coat. She bent to get it, but stood back up instead. ‘Then why did you ask me to stay?’ ‘I thought we might sex.’ And...it don’t snow in Boston, Mass., in the wintertime. ‘Then why are you telling me to go? Edward, tell me the truth! At least give me that!’ She knew. She must, something, somehow. ‘I always wanted sex with you. I wanted your ass. I wanted it the very first time I saw you, before we ever talked.’ I stopped for a breath. Let me try some truth, the whole. 'How do you know my husband', I asked, he looked at me and said, 'Met him down the boozer', he looked me up and down again, his thin lips dry with expectation, and he drew his tongue across them in expectation''Told me a lot about you', he added, I said nothing, just staring back, knowing fine well how my husband would be describing me.'Did he tell you I would like to be in their with them', I said, pointing to the pigs, 'As a matter of fact he did', he said, his voice changing as the thought. More

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