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real. He closed his eyes, and
brought two shivering hands to his face.
What did he remember of what had taught him? What would say?
What would *he* say upon seeing her? Would still want him? And,
if did, what . . . what would teach him now? He rubbed at
one fist with his palm, and a flood of memories ran over him, washing
at his feet. The unity. The electric warmth and acceptance. The
gentle discipline. He shook once, and his back tingled with the
awakened memories of the spots of candlewax against his skin, the
tingling of 's blows.
The ungentle discipline.
A glance at his schedule confirmed that it would be a busy day -- two
prenatals, six physicals, and seven returned test results from the
lab. At least he wouldn't be left by himself, like he had been the
last time, wondering what was going to happen. He smoothed his
uniform nervously, and licked his lips. His face felt cool, and his
hand went to his upper lip; he was sweating.
She's here, he told himself, almost not believing it. She's almost
here. He would never be able to eat anything for breakfast; his
stomach was in knots.
What if has forgotten me? he asked himself, the question that
threatened to
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