"Tom, thoughtful, "Viable", then brash: "like a bitch is a bitch is a bitch that I can't seem to shake." "Ummm?" "Crazy, but then what's sex got to do with it; or not?" Steps closer, suggesting; "So real", embracing her, "too real for me to let go" testing her lips; "darling?" Resisting, Cassandra slips out of his arms; and then moving away. "You've made a fool out of me but no matter, I've loved you Tom, still do, no matter your selfish needs or abuse, I've been laying awake at night hoping, wishing, that you were close to me; but no, and where, so I'd think of all the logical answers; frustrating to try and rationalize a passion when lonely; or to sleep with a dreamy heart beating desperately to unravel this mixed-up love: It's my soul Tom, that wants your child: I love you; will you marry me?" "No."