EZRA
I don’t take her back to my place.
I can’t.
Not when I know I won’t be able to control myself if she stays.
So I take her home.
Her real home.
The one she doesn’t tell me about, but I know it. I’ve always known it. I know when she called for a place near H&V after her divorce, I know how she decorated the place with furniture she didn't really like just so it wouldn't remind her how she decorated her ex husbanld’s. The second bulb on her porch that flickers when it rains. The way she keeps her every-day shoes in a straight line just outside her door like order is the only thing holding her together.
I carry her inside, her body limp in my arms, her skin warm and flushed, the smell of her and blood still clinging to her like a second skin.
God, her scent.
It punches me right i
