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Sonny could have grabbed the sun with his own two hands and pulled it ten
million miles closer to Earth, but that would not have warmed up Natalie.
“You know how much I hate the cold, and you know how fragile I am. The last
time I was here, you promised me that you would always turn on the heat before
you picked me up, so that your apartment would be nice and warm by the time we
walked into it.”
She went on to tell him that this was just another example of how
inconsiderate he was. He tried to tell her that he had simply forgotten. “You
know how bad my memory is,” he said. But she pointed out that his memory seemed
to work very well whenever it didn’t involve her. When it came to remembering
what others—including total strangers—liked or disliked, Sonny had a great
memory. Maybe his memory failed only when it came to Natalie’s needs because he
could care less about Natalie and her feelings.
Oh no, here we go again, Sonny thought. But Natalie was through. “Take me
home,” she demanded. But what about his haircut, he asked. “Who cares about your
stupid haircut? Your hair will be around your ankles before I touch you or your
hair clippers again!” |
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