“Are you angry?” Andrew asks, smiling rakishly and gazing deep into her eyes.
Andrea wants to give him another slap, but he calmly grabs her hand midair. He gently places it on his face and uses it to caress his cheek.
“Your hand will get hurt if you slap my face, and that will heart my heart,” he says.
“You don’t deserve that heart,” Andrea says. “Your heart attack was divine retribution. Your old heart couldn’t survive in such a disgusting man’s body. It must have given up.” She shoves his hand away and walks out of the store. She can hear Andrew rushing behind her.
“Early onset heart disease obviously wasn’t enough, so God sent you to punish me,” he jokes.
“If I really wanted to punish you, you’d be dead,” Andrea says without looking over her shoulder.
“Do you have to mention the
