I ask him. At home we sip our coffees on the couch and I run my fingers through his thinning hair. Let's get married tomorrow at city hall. The coffee is hot and good and goes well with the moment and the windows are all frosty. Millions of people out there.
People fall in love all the time.
That night we have the best sex we've ever had while it snows outside and Christmas is only two weeks away. Don't Make Me Hate You .