She still hadn’t answered my one question. “But the distance won’t be an issue much longer,” I continued as I leaned down to kiss one of her pale, pink nipples. As someone who spent most of her time indoors reading and maintaining a rigorous skincare routine, she was almost translucent with a flawless complexion that probably needed to be studied by some kind of scientific organization. I’ve met your family for Christ’s sake.”
I waited for her to say something—anything—but she didn’t even look at me or acknowledge anything I was saying. I developed a pretty good life here. I’ve met your family for Christ’s sake.”
I waited for her to say something—anything—but she didn’t even look at me or acknowledge anything I was saying. “The same goes for you.”
“I know. “I can’t be here,” I said. “Isn’t she supposed to go to the airport in a couple of hours? “Why?” I repeated the question, attaching a completely different meaning to the word. Our distance had been the biggest issue between us, and it had been a little over a month since we’d seen each other. Take it. I grew up in middle-class, upstate New York as one of four children to an architect mother and a musician father—well, step-father. “Pack your shit and leave.”
The plan was to have lunch before taking her to
