Paul was oh so thankful that the only obnoxious piece of his anatomy intruding her sanctum was his stupid, fat head.  Which was bad enough in its own right.  But if she was okay with it being there, then that was good enough for him.<br/><br/>He could also tell that she was still struggling with her emotions, though unsure as to whether or not she’d been crying.  Yet again, he was reminded of the tests turning up negative, although she also admitted to being unsure about motherhood at this time.<br/><br/>Charlette wavered about his offer to take her out to dinner, which he totally understood.  When she finally declined, saying she still wasn’t feeling so great, Paul appreciated her honesty.  After all, she coulda easily gone through the motions of scoring a free meal.<br/><br/>Figuring it was best to leave her be for a while, he had one more thing to say to her prior to doing so.  “Well, I have everything I need to make us some spaghetti with meatballs, even an awesome, crusty rustic bread, too.  Take all the time you need.  I’ll be out in the living room,” he concluded.  Paul had originally found her door partly open, and that’s just the way he left it.<br/><br/><i>You’re getting it all wrong, Old Man.  The saying is, “The path to a <u>man’s</u> heart is through his stomach.”  That shit don’t work for women.  Might be diamonds.  Hahahahaha. . . .</i><br/><br/>Yeah, like you’d know, Paul thought, wondering if there was anything worth watching on TV.  He eyed his Xbox controller as an alternative.  Still, the recliner felt tremendous after all the yard work he’d done.