I made myself not shudder and moan.
It was a week or so later that I cut myself when we were trimming the hedges. After shaving my fur, he cleaned and dressed the wound. He worked carefully and gently, telling me he had taken first aid courses and had once thought of being a nurse.
“Why didn’t you?” I asked, watching his face. I also hoped the longer we talked in the bathroom, the longer he would keep touching me.
“I’m not good at school. There, all done,” he said and stroked the fur on my leg. I knew then I had fallen in love with him. I couldn’t tell him, of course. I prayed the touching meant he had at least fallen into like with me.
* * * *
Seven weeks to the day after he had knocked on the front door, I knew I could no longer choke back the question that the curse compelled me to
