"I'm not sure if he wants power, or if he just wants to be immortal--he's an older man--he's thirty-five."
I sat back just a little, partly to keep from smiling, remembering my own twenties when thirty-five had seemed impossibly old to me, while now, in my late forties, it seems impossibly young. Scratch that, I happened to be dating--well, sleeping with--a thirty-five-year-old man, so I couldn’t call it impossibly young.
"His name is Henry Roy," Mina said, happy to say his name.
It became very hard to breathe in my office at that moment because Henry Roy was the name of my own thirty-five-year-old lover, though everyone called him Hal.
"Everyone calls him Hal," Mina said.
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