I'm sorry. I know we have a good thing together, but it would end up tearing us to pieces, and I don't want that."Forgive me. I just don't think – w...ll, I know – this is not me. And I don't want it to become me. I don't want to be defined by any of this, or worry about how you will be damaged by something I did, or said, or what designer made my dress. I'm not cut out to be any nearer the center than the fringe, and that's where I'm happy."Now, before I cry, kiss me really good, and tell me. Emma watched, hands clasped behind her back, a slight smile on her lips. Beads of sweat clung to her soft, tanned skin."Do you like my bikini?" she asked, suddenly, standing legs slightly apart, hands on hips.I looked her up and down. "It's very nice I said." then, without thinking, "A little small though."She frowned. "You saying I'm fat?"I shook my head rapidly. "No," I stammered, "No. You have a lovely figure, its just that that bikini doesn't leave much to the imagination."She took a step. More

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