“Doc seemed to gather himself to say something important, and spoke as firmly as he could, though his voice was somewhere between a whisper and a whine. "Wyatt, I cannot make you another denture. No more fights. You get that mad again, shoot the bastard. Promise me.”

“He gathered me closer, kissed my neck, then spoke in a low voice next to my ear. “I figure, see, if you find yourself getting more attached to the two of us than you planned, maybe you won’t think about picking up and leaving to start another life somewhere else.”

“Yes. Da,' I corrected.'Say it again.''What?"'His voice grew husky as he repeated his request. 'Say yes—in Russian—again.'I blushed. 'Da,' I whispered. 'Will you teach me more Russian, Pietr?''Mmm, only the important words,' he promised.I bit back my request for the three most important words to me. 'What words would you teach me?''Pocelujte menyah.''What's that mean?'He groaned. 'Repeat it tonight and perhaps I will show you.”

“You could make me say it again," he whispered. "Make me say it always. Make me say it so often that you never have cause to doubt. I love you.”

“Kent?" I say, and my voice seems to have to rise from inside the fog, taking forever to get from my brain to my mouth."Yeah?""Promise you'll stay here with me?" I say."I promise," he whispers.”

“From somewhere, back in my youth, heard Prof say, 'Manuel, when faced with a problem you do not understand, do any part of it you do understand, then look at it again.' He had been teaching me something he himself did not understand very well—something in math—but had taught me something far more important, a basic principle.”