“Over here," he said, gesturing to the workbench.

She took a long, Long look. "Oh," she said in a tiny voice.

“Josh, it's...it's..."

Magnificent. He will be my Michelangelo.~

“Wonderful. The growth from tiny baby to skillful lover." She caressed the bronze of the fourth piece, her fingers Lingering on the cold metal of his arched back. She paused and leaned forward, her eyes caught by a faint, almost subliminal pattern. She squinted, wishing she had worn her reading glasses, then rocked back, letting loose with an outraged laugh.

“Fluffy bunnies? You put fluffy bunnies on the bedspread?""

“Hey," Josh protested. "I spent a lot of time on top of that bedspread."

“You mean you spent a lot of time on top of me.”

“Under you, too,”

“Well, what were you paying more attention to? Me, or the bunnies?"

“You, my black-haired Venus," he whispered.

“Always, forever, you."

Sniffing slightly, she turned back to the two figures. God, were we ever that young? Their entwined bodies reminded her uncomfortably of their own children. She blinked, wondering, then bent closer. No. The telltale ring was not visible at the base of Josh's bronze rod. And for someone as detail-oriented as he was, that would not be a mistake, but rather, a clear message to her.

“This is a specific night, isn't it?" she asked.

“The night we made

Alex."

They had been so happy and horny that evening. They had gone out to campustown, neither of them even old enough to drink. That hadn't stopped them, though. In a dive bar on Green Street named O'Malley's, they had gotten tipsy, danced till their Legs hurt, sang “American Pie” at midnight, and walked back to Josh's apartment on Locust. There, they had begun to make love, only to find out they were out of condoms.

"To hell with it," Rachel had said, lying on her back. Her hands cradled her breasts, offering them to him. "Come on, Josh. I need you inside me. Please, baby, fuck me!"

"Yes, Venus," he whispered, hugging her close. "It is."

Suddenly she found herself crying, unstrung by his love and his old nickname for her and by the beautiful message in his art. By the emotion and the stress of the past week. "I'm sorry," she said into his shirt, racked by wrenching sobs.