A.J. Nuest

You asked what my intentions are, Mrs. Brenner, and I would like to answer your question._ Dibs opened his mouth as if preparing to argue and she glared at him from across the table. Did he really think not to let her state her case in front of his family? He snapped his mouth shut and briskly rubbed a palm across his forehead before tossing that same hand in the air. __y intentions are these._ She gathered her thoughts, folding her hands in her lap. __hen David is sad, I intend to make him happy. When he is ill, I intend to make him well. When he is angry or upset, I intend to listen and find the words to make him feel better. When he is depressed, I intend to bring him joy, and when he is hurt, I intend to find the source of his pain and take it away from him._ She bridged the distance to Dibs__ devoted gaze, and radiant love crested the last barricade surrounding her heart. __ou see, Mr. and Mrs. Brenner, I__ in love with your son. But I don__ want anything from him. You don__ need to worry because my only intention is to give to him. That__ the way it__ supposed to be when you love someone, isn__ it? To think only of their needs, instead of your own?_ She broke off from Dibs and faced his mother. __hose are my intentions, Mrs. Brenner. I hope you find them satisfactory.