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“There’s no reason to miss this, Harvey.” I clear my throat. “You can have this; you can havemeany time you want. Inanyway.”
He nods as I massage his head, wishing for my message to sink in. For him to remember this moment tomorrow.
“I love you, Harv.”
“I love you too.” This time when his lips find mine, he removes my cami and pulls off my bra. A shiver runs through me when he kneads my tits and traces my collarbone with his thumb.
“You’re so fucking hot, babe.”
I lean in and whisper in his ear, “So are you. You look so fuckable. I can’t even tell you how much.” I bite on his earlobe and tug on his hair, earning a low moan out of him.
He stills when my fingers reach for his jeans. “We’ll just see what feels good.” I whisper, hoping to relieve the tension.
He nods, so I unzip him and reach my hand inside his jeans, touching his cock. He skips boxers; it makes things easier in the restroom. I take my time, stroking him for a while until I notice him gritting his jaw.
“Stop—it’s not working.”
I pull back, giving him a second, knowing his lack of erection will wound him.
“Alright. Let’s—”
“No. You don’tget it. I’m so fucking horny in here”—he shoves his finger against his temple—“but my dick won’t fucking get hard.”
“Look at me.” I grab his neck with my hands. “We’ll relearn each other’s bodies. For now, we focus on what feels nice, and kissing and touching. What do you say?”
I know he’s done for the night; whatever progress we made is well and gone. But I need him to know for the future that there’s so much to explore besides sex.
“This sucks.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, and by God, do I feel for him. I wish every day that I could suffer his pain for him. “You gotta be fuckingkidding me!”
Right when I’m about to ask what’s wrong, I notice a darker spot on his jeans. I turn away when he opens his eyes, pretending I don’t see, saving his pride.
“Leave, Gemma. Now!”
He finally breaks when I close the door behind me. I hear something being tossed and thrown again the wall.
I don’t stop him.
He needs this: to break before he can heal and accept this new life so he can be happy. I look up, holding back the tears as I hear a scream coming out of him, one powerful enough to reopen the fissures of my heart.
I should’ve reminded him to go pee before fooling around. He drank, he smoked, he hadn’t relieved himself in a while.
I’m so stupid. This could’ve been prevented.
The next day he avoids me despite my efforts. The only reason we talk during the week is because his nurse is here.
Maybe he meant his promise of not shutting me out. But he never delivers upon it since there are no more talks about our future, no more shared dreams, no more kisses, no more sex.
I persist.
I try to steal touches and kisses, begging him to go slow—we don’t need to have penetrative sex. I only want to make him feel good, yet all conversations lead to him being angrier, more distant with me.
As if he prays I’ll leave him. As if he believes I’ll be better off without him.
But I’ll never leave him.
Ever.
“Hey Dad.”
