I would have said: sadness, pity, fear. Nothing good. But the underlying feeling was one of kindness, gentleness.
He was sad and afraid for me, but he wouldn’t hurt me, and didn’t have the slightest desire to do so. I took some comfort in that.
Look, we won’t talk about it anymore, OK? I just wanted to say that...
if anything comes back to you... in counseling or whatever...
I might be able to give you some answers, you know? But only if you want them,” he added quickly.
I thought about this. I began to feel the vague inklings of irritation.
“Raymond,” I said, “I really don’t think it’s appropriate for you to try to direct me toward this, not before I’m ready.
I’m making perfectly good progress on my own, you know,” I told him. Be patient, Marianne. I’m coming.
I looked at his face, which was even paler now than when he first sat down.
His mouth hung open very slightly and his eyes were glassy and tired. It wasn’t an attractive look.
You’re not the only person who knows how to use a search engine, you know.
It’s my life, and when I’m good and ready, I’m more than capable”—I treated him to one of my more direct looks
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