Love, that curve ball out of nowhere, bops me on the head: Sheila the bar vixen, who I used like a rag doll, suddenly comes to life and now I'm left with a bloody heart; Sheila, who connived drunken me into calling Jeane. It doesn't feel like a bullet has entered my chest, it feels as though a heart-shaped metal plug has been yanked out and, yes, I
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