I’m desperate for some air, some space to get myself under control before I do something insanely stupid. Like crying right in front of him. Or telling him I want more. Or do the worst thing possible. Because those three words are right there, on the tip of my naughty tongue. Somehow, I manage to swallow them down, nearly choking on the acidic taste of deceit. But I know it’s for the best. It’s always for the best, keeping emotions separate from sex. That’s what he said, right?
