But it was extraordinary what seemingly irrelevant things could restore her to the thought of Capes again. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. Doctors constantly admonished and offered weak consolation that most would have been hurt much worse from the type of fall he took. I promise not to do it again. The whole incident was so unexpected that neither Courtlaw nor Brendon were awaiting.
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