I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, not feeling entirely cleansed. Carrie was on her bed reading Knut Hamsun, and like our roving sight gag, my hard-on in the shower went unmentioned, but there was no denying a change had taken place. She looked different to me, or maybe I was just reminded of my impressions of when we first met. I felt a familiar rumble start to rise again beneath my towel, which I sensed was not going unnoticed. I sat beside her on the bed, took the book from her hands, and kissed her. It all made sense in the moment, and we both understood that everything we were
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