But most of all, I thought about Connor. I’ve replayed that weekend so many times that the mental tape is worn from use. I can still hear his voice in my ear whispering how good it was. Can still feel his keen attention while I talked, can feel him moving in me, gripping my hips hard, biting at my neck. I can see that mischievous smile and those honey eyes, immortalized in my memory and also in the Polaroids we took, which are lovingly tucked into an old romance book. I miss him in a way I never, ever missed Ben.
