I felt such joy for a moment. But unlike the movie in my head, she did not run into my arms.“I had to go away to think,” she explained, “then I needed to tell you in person. I’m going to marry John. I’m sorry.”There was not much more to say. I quietly closed the door, unable to bear watching her walk away again.Ending 3I didn’t get much sleep Tuesday night. I couldn’t even jerk off to make myself drowsy. In the morning, I thought I might have dreamed the whole thing. The trash had a used condom. I was sure that was Kristin’s scent on my sheets. The leftover Chinese food seemed to prove it really happened.At first, I thought I had imagined the soft knocking. My heart was pounding when I heard it again as I walked toward the door. This better not be the landlord I thought as I swung it open. It was Kristin, her eyes red, her cheeks wet with tears.Her smile told me what I wanted to know. She ran into my arms, and I held her tightly. “I want great,” she said.I called in sick for the rest. Explicit? What a useless word. The trouble is, I can tell you about what we read or where we went, but I don’t know how to describe Jane as a physical person: the bitten fingernails that told of distress behind her poise, the way that a hug of greeting would somehow convey the small urgent softness of breast, the curve of her back, the hard lump of the suspender clip, the strangely silky smoothness of thigh. I can not put this into words, any more than I can describe the lift in my heart when we met, the pride I had in being with her. The incredible truth that she wanted to be with me. The strut this put into my step. Walk on up the road from the university to the traffic lights and you’re opposite another coffee shop, the Silver Slipper, in the old streetcar station at the entrance to the Botanic Gardens. We would not linger there, though, even for the background of Beatles music. It was too close to the building across on the other side of the highway where I had a small apartment.
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