‘I’m not uncomfortable,’ I hasten to reassure her. ‘I just feel guilty. It’s shitty for you. We’ve only been together for a few weeks—you didn’t sign up for this. And you’re missing work. I look like shit, and I’m all sweaty and snotty and revolting. You should beat a hasty retreat and come back when I’m my usual, sexy self again.’ I wink at her, but she doesn’t rise.
