"It's the weekend. Our time together. Don't let outsiders ruin the mood."
For as long as I could remember, my feelings for Melanie had been both physical and emotional. A complete, consuming kind of love.
All she ever needed was the slightest touch, and my resolve would crumble.
But after more than six months of this, I felt nothing. Not a ripple. Not a stir.
Only something close to revulsion.
Before I could turn her down, Boyd's agonized groan echoed from down the hall.
"Melanie, come help me..."
One second.
That was all it took. Melanie shoved me aside, sprang to her feet, and bolted out of the study.
"Boyd, if you need the bathroom, just call me! You don't have to do it yourself."
"Look at you, falling like that."
Her voice carried through the walls, loud and frantic, overflowing with concern.
I remembered last month. I'd stepped out of the shower, slipped on the wet tile, and cracked my knee open. Blood ran down my shin.
I called for Melanie several times. She never answered.
Later, she'd looked me up and down and sneered, "You're a grown man who can't even walk without tripping. Embarrassing."