“Patrick!” He looked at me, weary, unfocused. I stumbled around the table and slipped to my knees, grabbing his hand with both of mine. “Patrick... Please! This is killing us both. I’ll do anything to make it up to your! I swear his will never, ever happen again! Please!” My last plea was swallowed by a choked sob. I thought I saw a flicker of that compassionate love that had attracted me to him from the start in his eyes. But his jaw clenched. “I’m…” He looked away. “I’m not sure we can fix. “Okay, but I need somewhere to put my coat first.” – I reply. He smiles, and claims I can use the basement since no one ever goes down there. Once we go through the door, and down the stairs, I can see why. The basement is literally pure storage. The only safe haven is a small pocket of space on the other side of the room, which is barely lit and secluded via a few walls and boxes. The dim light-bulb barely lights the way as he pulls me toward the open space. We maneuver over boxes and. More

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