He was devastated. Numb. After she’d been dead for three months, I was growing impatient. We’d only had sex twice since her death, and he hadn’t even kissed me with tongue either time. It’s like he was disconnected from me, using me to get off, to feel better, to get a quick rush of something other than agony. I wanted more than that. I wanted the old Jeremy back. I tried one night. I rolled over and put my hand on his dick while he was asleep. I rubbed my hand up and down, waiting for it to grow hard. It didn’t. Instead, he brushed my hand away and said, “It’s okay, Verity. You don’t have
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WTH
