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He stared at my chest for a moment before reaching into the box again. After a light clatter of items moving around, he pulled out a bundle of jute rope.
He just kept staring into my eyes. So I stared back, studying the blue depths that grew brighter again in the light from the bedside lamp.
I spilled what had happened last year at the Halloween party.
His lips were so warm when they brushed mine.
Tried to shrink away from him but found nowhere to go.
Why did I always get so embarrassed when he paid me a compliment.
More that Chris didn't know about. My trip to the doctor three days ago had been two-fold: I'd wanted to check out the consistent rasp in my breathing; and I was scheduled to have my first ultrasound.