Despite this, she came straight to me. "D'you mind if I sit here?"On auto-pilot my mouth functioned without my conscious decision. Ingrained politenes..., perhaps. "Not at all – please do."I watched as she placed her mug on the table, pulled out the chair, and sat. Her face – round, with a peach-like complexion – was flushed with the chill of a windy, wet, summer's day. Warm, brown eyes looked consideringly back at me, and full lips quirked a smile."Tim Broadbent?" That's me..." Jack says you're. "The stairs were more than I anticipated, and this apartment is not going to cut it with my weakness. I've decided to check into the Marriott and find somewhere to live tomorrow, when I feel better."I saw a look of near panic cross Constance's face and wondered what was wrong. She didn't keep me waiting, but dialed a number and had a hushed, but intense conversation with someone who she seemed to take orders from.Once she was off the phone, she gave me a frightened smile and said, "Kevin. We. “I’m so sorry,” he cried.“Where the hell you’ve been? I needed you!”“I’m sorry,” he cried again.“Why have you been avoiding me?” I screamed. His weakness was only pissing me off more.“I’m so sorry.”“Sorry, sorry! Screw you. I needed you this week and you hid from me.”“Sorry,” he muttered.“Is that all you can say. Do you hate me? Do I disgust you?”“Uhh.”“Answer me! Do you hate me because a monster attacked me? Because it took its pleasure from me. Do you hate me because I enjoyed it?” Where did. The fact that I’m describing my feelings in such rough, crude language reflects level of my cravings. There was no romance involved, just a raw, primitive animal NEED!But did Laurie want what I wanted? I had no way of knowing if she was even interested in finishing what she started. She was so unpredictable, so limited in attention span that, for all I knew, the whole scrabble incident might have been just a passing whim. It might have been a mere hint of an idea that popped into her brain.