He did belong in their bed, where she wouldn’t mind being now, curled against him in the after glow of sex. He belonged here; with a baby in his arm..., cradling a delicate head as he looked on in wonder at the life they had created.The vision came to her unbidden and caught her by surprise. She tried to stifle a cry as the pain of her barrenness plucked at her heartstrings in a vicious reminder that they had failed to produce a child. This was really the whole reason for her melancholy, not the. When this happens, my facebrightens and my step lightens, and I turn into the shop as if I?m planning tobuy something, as if I have nothing better to do than a little junk shoppingthis fine morning.?? I stride into the placeas if I routinely take old broken floorlamps oranonymous Korean-brand remote controls home with me, as if these things areimportant to me.? The store is alwaysempty save for the junkshop girl, and jaunty old me.The junkshop girl used to ignore me, as I'm sure she ignored all. . I wanted to kiss her…. Right there.. Was continuously staring at her… I didn’t want to do anything that could upset her.. I didn’t want to cross the limits… I wanted her to give me a small green signal… was waiting for that.. We had meal in the room and at 6 we went for the sunset point…. She was looking at the sun… I was standing beside her.. Staring at her…. We came back to your room at 7… we were talking.. Then she asked me what I meant by my husband is lucky.. I wish…..I tried to ignore. “Oh, the world is full of more shades of gray and blackest black and purest white than I have words for,” Rael chuckled softly into her ear in that deep, rumbling tone his voice took when he spoke quietly, for her ears only. “But in the end, in matters of battle and survival, so much of the grays and shades between can be filtered down to two very simple absolutes. The blackest black, and the whitest white. Die, or live. Death, or life. “I choose life,” he explained somberly. “For both of us.”.