But you don't, won't, can't stop as you rip at my shirt. I roll on top of you for balance. You pull the bottom of my shirt over my face, but then let ...t go. I feel heat envelope my head and the taste of cotton as you wrap your body round me. Your legs hook the backs of my thighs and I grunt with pleasure as you grind against me.My feet find the floor and I pull myself away. Your hands grab my shirt as I move backwards and you pull it over my head., tossing it back against the window.I try to. Besides, I was convinced even then, even in my confusion and anxiety, that Paul had not stopped loving me. Something else was going on, I was sure, something that had nothing to do with me. Paul’s withdrawal was not a sign of lack of love, but of some interior struggle that I could not understand without some kind of information from him, and he was simply not talking. I think it was the long stays away from home that convinced me more than anything else that I had very little to do with what. More

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