Chapter 14Steve stays for an hour, but our six feet of separation exacerbates me as I sip tea and dream of us together as a couple.
He sits in a chair in his damp raincoat. The dining table is an obstacle between us, and our distance stretches into infinite loneliness. “Thanks for staying,” I say, shifting on the edge of the bed, struggling to hold the tea cup. I am just glad he is in my presence.
“I have to get going soon,” he says.
I place the hot tea on top of the side table stained with coffee rings. I feel old, lost, desperate as I turn to Steve. “I want to talk.”
“I’ve got work in a few hours.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
He crosses and uncrosses his legs. “You know what you need to do.”
“I’m talking to you right now.”
“You need to talk with a professional.”
A pestering pain
