She was never afraid, or so she thought, at least not of men. She hadbeen scared of the cancer but never of men. She could take care of herself, wasst...ong and assertive and knew who she was. In fact, she had made a statement inan interview, publicizing her book, that went word for word, "...and that's for someone who is," she pauses andadds, with a haughty laugh, "nasty. I'm a nasty person. I'm a strongperson. You know what I'm saying? I've got a lot that defines me. I've got afull, wonderful. “What’s the matter?” I asked her. I kept the pressure of my hand at her shoulder, not pulling her into me any tighter, but not letting her move away either.“I’m sorry!” She said, her voice hoarse. “We just can’t.”I stroked her skin softly with the hand holding her in place. She shivered.“We need to stop.” She said, a note of entreaty in her voice. “This shouldn’t have happened. This can’t happen.”“It did happen though.” I said mildly. I wanted to see how this would go. On one hand she was. More

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