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"Statistically," Beatrice cups Ava's cheek with her palm, "Our meeting was improbable, but God's will deemed it so that in order for our lives to intertwine everything, in a sense, had to go wrong." The light in Ava's eyes dim. That wasn't the answer she was looking for. Her smile turns into a playful pout, "So you wouldn't love me if I were a worm."
Beatrice's heart melts fondly remembering a cold rainy June morning in New Zealand when Ava woke her from a dead sleep with a question on her lips. She held her almost the same as she does now, kissed her the way she did before, and quelled her fears, "Of course I would, darling. I would provide you the proper nutrients and cultivate-"
"Ava?!"