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When I felt the tension in his arm over me lessen, I shot out from under the covers and streaked down the hall. I skidded to a stop at the kitchen island where a blackened ham sat in my mom's heirloom roasting pan-which had also turned crusty-black inside. For thirteen months, my true feelings about Jolie and Dirk had simmered just under the surface.
More deliberate with his movements. Pausing then digging in deeper before pulling back and repeating. I was so close.
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It's okay. " Chris eased out of me and rolled me onto my back.
This one had knocked me flat on my back, and I couldn't find the strength to get back up again. I fell asleep with tears drying on my face and my heart feeling crushed. The next morning, I found cans of chicken noodle soup and clear juice stocked in the kitchen; tissues and pain relievers in the bathroom; and bedding folded on the ottoman.
But there was no sign of Chris.