He saw her and it was obvious that he was not trying to rush to her. She noticed that he seemed eager to see her, eager to meet her. She felt hersel... tremble and then willed it to stop, but it all failed. He reached her. "Cheyenne?" he asked. All she could do was nod. She could not swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She hated the fact that the first words that wanted to escape from here lips were, "Can I touch you?" She kept silent. "I'm Dave," he announced and offered his. A big part of her had been over the whole thing, but still that small part that wanted vindication, that wanted him to know how unsympathetic and heartless he was, was still there. What a fool she felt like begging after him. How the whole ordeal made her mistrust herself and everyone around her. That part of her wanted him to pay and cry. Cry at least half as much as she did. And it was ready to seize its chance to be heard. “Did you even really care that you did that to me? That it hurt me. More

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