Chapter Twenty-Five
We spend the rest of the day making love. I have had plenty of s*x in my life—the passionate kind, the animalistic kind. The paid kind. There has been s*x in my life but never love.
Which is why I force myself to leave the bed while she sleeps, to dress quietly, to write a note explaining that the deed will be hers. For such a large property it will require a visit to the lawyer to finalize the transfer, but I make it clear—it will be hers, outright. She owes me nothing. In fact, she most likely won’t ever see me again.
Perhaps I could have been gone. I should have been.
Instead I find myself digging through the pantry for a can of tuna. I open it for the cat, who gobbles it almost faster than seems healthy, swallowing whole chunks of fish.
“Where are you going?” B
