8 AM on a Friday. "Do you want to see them again", he asks, I tell him that I do. He sits down with me on his way out, I'm wide awake but still in bed. His scent is Bleu de Chanel and morning air, my hair a train wreck on the pillow.
"What are you
afraid of", he asks. I lie and tell him spiders, he smiles politely and
puts his hand on my knee underneath the covers. I ask him the same
thing, his warm hand on my thigh, fractions of an inch away. "I always
wanted more from life" he says, "I wanted to have everything". He looks
me straight in the eye, his fingers inside me. "I'm afraid of what will
happen if I already do."