Chapter Ten
I walk out on a Sunday afternoon, seeing daylight for the first time in ten days, having to squint in order to withstand the intensity of this summer sun. The fire on my skin makes it crawl with need—as though I need that lash on me. Do I dare wonder if I’m missing its effect?
Nothing in my life is worse off for my absence. Work breezed by without me. Seems I was hardly missed. The messages from my favorite clients were sweet but brief.
Alan—I was all geared up for something special—try you again when you’re home.
Rico—that’s the shits spending your vacation with a sick relative. Kisses.
Joseph—I hope Nan’s better. We’re still on for the 29th. Call me when you get back.
And then one heartfelt message from Henry, personally spoken to my replacement delivery person, Randy,
