"Thank you... you don't have to do that," I mumbled, trying to mask the pain and the exhaustion from my voice. Our last meeting had left a sour taste in my mouth and I felt a little ashamed that I'd slapped him. He had no right to kiss me when his wife had probably been upstairs waiting for him. I kind of lost control then, acted impulsively. His short but intense kiss was his weapon. It had pulled me back to my apartment and our night together.
Mack picked up all my shopping bags without saying anything. He looked awesome in a black coat and a red scarf around his neck. I felt worse, knowing that he was never going to be mine, that I had to keep away from him for the sake of his marriage.
"What happened to your hand?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I grimaced when I moved my hand. I wasn't used to this kind of pain. My skin felt like it was literally on fire. "I had a little accident today in the kitchen at work."