She'd have suggested the shooting rage, but she had a feeling that that wasn't the same as punching something and would be nowhere near as therapeutic for Goliath. They'd just have to cope.

Shakespeare? She guessed the name of the writer of that particular poem, before smiling despite herself. It was almost funny. It was as if someone had tried to make it easier for them to be together, but had managed to get mixed up on some very important details. I know what you mean. I don't want remoteness, just a bit of space.