Chapter 27

I call after him, “Baby, don’t you walk away from me. You can’t—”

He laughs—there’s nothing warm or caring in the sound. “Use your hand. You might as well. I can’t get it up anymore.”

For one heart-wrenching moment, I think maybe it’s me. Maybe I’mthe reason he can’t get it up, the one making this difficult on him. Maybe he can’t deal with me.I watch him disappear into the bathroom and, before he can close the door, I ask in a tiny voice, “Aaron, is it me?”

The door stops before it shuts completely, and I hear him breathing. “Tell me.” I need to know. “If it’s me, tell me and I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make you happy. Please.”