Gentle caresses on the head combined with a soft-toned question about my well-being was enough for me to assume that Noah mightn’t hate me as much as I had thought. Unbothered by my nakedness and my condition, I answered him while looking at him with a hunger that suggested a yearning to be loved.
Without ridiculing me about my desire, he continued to shower me with gentleness. There, however, was another question that came my way. Appearing more disappointed than hurt, he wondered why I gave up on something as beautiful as our relationship, claiming there was no way I would find a love like that again.
“I didn’t,” I responded, appearing just as displeased with our current situation. “I have only ever loved you.”
“What am I supposed to make of the pictures I received and your rendezv
