Without a word, Henry led you to bed. He turned to you, and began to undress you. He ran his fingers through your blonde hair, then gently caressed your face. “You have quite an American nose,” he told you with a little smile.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he said. And then with his hands slowing down as they reached lower, he unbuttoned your red flannel shirt and began to unbuckle your belt.
“Let’s turn off the lights,” you said, your voice much softer than you needed it to be. What am I doing? you thought—but not with a trace of panic. What there was instead was curiosity, even amusement, the sheer mad acknowledgment that you were flinging yourself into the void of not knowing where you were headed, trusting only the grace of the unknown.
“No,” Henry said, in a slight tone of pos
