Or darker times, when it seemed as if the book were closed, and he could not read even one word, no matter how hard he tried. Occasionally, it was alm...st as if he could see an iron lock around the book, the word ‘Private’ stamped across the cover in letters of purple, like an old bruise that made him physically wince when he looked at her. He often wished, during these times, that he could simply lay open his heart and let her take what she needed until she would let him back in. Over the. My dick pulses every few seconds, twitching from my physical gratification, and she shivers. We don't bother cleaning up, or even moving, other than to lay down. Neither of us say anything either as we curl up on the bed, trying to catch our breath. "Ethan?" Chanel mumbles after a while, almost asleep. "Mm?" I hum, right there with her. "I don't think you should mourn," she whispers, and it takes me a second to realize she's referring to what I said earlier about getting divorced. "What do. More

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