Comfortable Touch

 

 

 

It's the only thing that's real, I think. Because love is such a sacrifice in itself. Because love is giving up oneself to the will and whim of another.

 

 

"She's late," I observed. "Traffic's been horrible lately."

"She's supposed to be walking," Janine pointed out.

"Is she?" Sometimes I forgot that we didn't own a car. It was one of the things that I didn't take out of the divorce, not wanting to push my luck when it came down to the final settlements. "Anyway, how's your coffee?"

"It's good," she answered, sticking her finger in the cup and swirling the liquid around.