She found something to order from the menu, ate as much of it as she could manage when it arrived. She listened to him talk about work, books, chatter...on, and she drank in his words, being a natural listener. Here and there she interjected and told her own stories, and the flow of the conversation eased their postures until they both sat in a relaxed slight-slouch, leaning forward, mirroring one another’s movements subconsciously. All classically good signs, but she missed them because she was. Everything about the place seemed so bohemian and liberated. The seemingly endless nudes on the walls, the photographic magazines on the tables that all seemed to feature naked women on the front cover and even the clay model sculptures of female nudes on shelves around the walls.Jonas proceeded to explain – as best he could – what he was trying to achieve with his paintings. It was obvious that Lyn didn’t care what he was trying to achieve. She’d seen his work, she knew what it was all about. “No, I left because there wasn't anything here for me. You were here with them, with Gloria, and I had to go.”“We were only twenty minutes away from each other.”"No, Candy, there was no we. You were here with them, and it was just me. It was lonely without you."“But, ah, you and Bobby, I thought you were mad because I wanted to keep my baby, and I needed help . . . needed Sandra's help.”“I know, and she helped you,” Sally said. “That was smart, it was, but I missed you. We shared a room, slept. In fact he nearly didn’t even get out of bed, he felt so bad. But he had to get up or his mother would tell everybody and that would make everything even worse. He kept replaying his imam’s words in his head: ‘Learn from being used’; ‘Why did she do it’?Being used was certainly the worst feeling ever. It made him feel like ... worthless. But what was there to learn? She’d done it because he’d accidentally scared Grace and she wanted Grace for herself. Also she was an unbeliever and resented the.
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