We could go back, he said. In the dome light of the car, his face looked hard as stone. We could go back to your house. I can stay with you always. We can know each other's bodies in every way, night after night. I could love you. His nostrils flared, and he looked suddenly proud. I could work. You would not be poor. I would help you. Sounds like a marriage, I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. But my voice was too shaky. Yes, he said.