Sometimes I think he knows…” He shakes his head. “I think he knows and he wants to torment me with it...sometimes I think he’s using it against me in some way I don’t understand yet. I think he’s got a plan.”I sigh. “I wish I knew more... I wish I could tell you…but he and I, as you know…”“He loves you.” He says to me suddenly. It flies off his lips effortlessly, almost as if he was already inebriated. I shake my head. “If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. He would have kicked you out ages ago. But no. He sent that poor woman who was carrying his baby into exile, all because you asked him to. He’d never do a thing like that for anybody else. You’re special.”“Do you hate me for it, John?”“Hate you? Not anymore. I did. But not anymore.”“Why did you?”“Because…” he shakes his head.“You can tell me. We’re friends-- family now.”He looks me in the eye. I see his heart sewn back together millions of times by thin thread from every break in every direction. I see him just hanging on. Just like me. Just barely hanging on.“Because you know him in a way that I will never know him. And he loves you in a way he’ll never love me.” Of course. Of course. Of course.