Pillow talk

“And all my friends hate you, because they think you’re going to break my heart.”
“I am going to!” he laughs.
“No, I’ll break yours,” she tells him.  “Want to know how?”
He nods.
“Because one day, ten or twenty or thirty years from now, you’re going to wake up in the middle of the night, screaming.  And you’ll not be able to get back to sleep through that night, or maybe not even for the next one, or the next one too.”  She props herself up on one elbow, lightly kisses him, warming to her theme.  “And the thought that will have you howling into the dawn will be that deep down, past the black rock that is your heart…”  He makes an attempt to interrupt but she puts up a long finger to his lips, the red of her nail looking black in the half-light.
“Deeper than that, right down in your guts, you will know that you threw me away when I was the only woman in the world that could have made you happy.  Good night, angel.”
She leans up to kiss him again, rolls over and is lost in sleep.

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