Love Isn’t Rent
I had not.
In two years, it had never once crossed my mind.
“Because I was frightened of her,” Renee said.
“She was twenty-two and I was twenty-five and I was already frightened of her, and I have been ever since, and that is the actual reason there was one card a year and it went to a man I barely knew.”
I stood at a gas pump in southern Indiana and could not say anything.
“She stayed,” Renee said.