“Well, that seems understandable.”

“It’s not, really. You’ve got to be careful what you wish for.” Glory looked at East, ashamed of what she may have wished for her ex-husband. “Anyway, I’m just here for some closure. I just want to say goodbye to him in my own way—not as his sad ex-wife at some big public service—but just … privately.” Glory started to fall into another deep sadness.

And East tried to catch her fall by hugging her again.

And when he did, he felt that strange lightness fill up his insides again.

And Glory felt it, too, and she pulled away from East as soon as she did. Because it scared her, that lightness. Because it made her feel like it might make her do things she didn’t normally do—like kiss a man she hardly knew.

Like East.

Which she suddenly did.

And then, as suddenly as she was kissing him, she wasn’t.

And East had the brown paper bag in his possession again—and was suddenly kissing Glory back. And then pulling away from her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Don’t be, thought Glory. And she kissed him again.

And then pulled away again.

And then gasped, “I’m sorry.”

And East said, “Don’t be! I love you!”

“Well—don’t do that!” Glory groaned, wincing, because East couldn’t possibly love her; he had just met her.

“Well, I can’t help it!” said the quiet stoic, who was suddenly getting loud and emotional.

“Well…” Glory saw that East had the brown paper bag again, and she grabbed it from him. “Help it!” she commanded.

“Why?” demanded East.

“Because! I won’t be able to love you back! I have a heart that can pump my blood and that’s all! The one that did the other stuff is broken! It doesn’t work anymore!” This was an inaccurate series of statements, because Glory was clearly feeling all the things that hearts make people feel. So either her artificial heart was doing more than just pumping her blood, or the one she had been carrying around was doing all the “other stuff” it used to do. Whatever the case, one of her hearts had moved Glory to kiss East again.

And when Glory pulled away from East, East had her heart again.

And Glory grabbed it right back.

And then East kissed Glory again.

And pulled away again.

And East had her heart again.

And Glory grabbed it back again.

And East grabbed it right back and pleaded, “Let me have this!”

“No!” Glory lunged and tried to get her heart back again, but East kept it away from her, which wasn’t very difficult, because he was tall, and she was not.

Glory lunged again—but failed to retrieve her heart.

East was impressed that someone with an artificial heart was so spry and strong. Modern medicine is a wonder, he thought.

And then Glory lunged again, without success.

And this went on for some time—Glory repeatedly lunging for her heart, East repeatedly keeping it just out of reach.