“He said you wouldn’t want to touch me again. Is that true? That you don’t want to touch me?” Henry’s heavy gaze lifts to meet my eyes. “No. That’s not true,” he says evenly. I swallow my doubt. “Then do it. Touch me. Please. I need to erase those other memories.” He opens his mouth, but hesitates. “Are you sure?” “Yes. I need you to touch me.”
