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And then I’m suddenly rifling through everything every piece of clothing in front of me, quickly shaking them out so I can read the sizes on the tags and then hastily dropping them to the ground al my feel. And as I pick up my twentieth item, I realize that everything here is my size, and that absolutely none of it matches Fiona’s taste. That, instead, it’s all precisely what I would wear. Or, precisely what Kent might like to see me wearing.

“Oh my god,” I say, looking around at the pile of clothes around me. “This is all for me…”

And then I sink down into the pile, looking around at it. When the hell had Kent stocked his closet for me?

I stay there on the floor of Kent’s closet for a long time, staring around at all of the stuff, thinking deeply about the significance. of all of this. What did it mean that Kent made space for me in his room? What did it mean…that he left me here, with free reign, lo explore? I could, if I wanted, take all of those diamond watches and make a run for it. Run to the garage. take a car – go anywhere I wanted.

apparent

there’s nowhere else I want

mind flicks suddenly to Ivan,

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asks me, unbidden. Is

air, dismissing the thought, not letting myself go there. Because honestly, in this moment? It

myself, realizing that it feels right to me to be sitting, in just a bra, on Kent’s closet carpet. And so I pull myself up and start to put the clothes away as neatly as I can, keeping the pink sweatsuit out for

the corner. Thin, shallow drawers, the sort of drawer that

silk stockings. I blush as I consider it, thinking about what I’d look like with it on.

he comes back? I move through the rest of the drawers quickly then

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