“Before I speak any further, why don’t you go change while I order something for you?” He pointed towards his wardrobe that has his second set of clothes.

“Are you going to charge this one too?” I joked, reminiscing his demand to pay for the clothes he bought.

“Consider this my investment,” he countered.

Once I changed into his shirt and ate a sandwich that no doubt one of his possums provided, I asked relaxing on the couch, “so, what do you want to talk about?”

“Do you love me?”

“Just go to the jugular, why don’t you? You don’t have the right to ask that question. I’m not here...