Crying doesn’t make you less.

He pushes his way inside and I back up just enough to let me feel that I’m safe from being pulled into his arms.

“What’s this about?” he asks.

He looks worried and I try to smile. I want him to feel happy and not worried. I want him to feel I’m capable, but how can he when he saw.

“You saw me.”

“I do.”

I shake my head. “In the shower.”

His eyes darken and I see lust and also concern. He lusts after me… The thought surprises me. I’m no perfect picture. I know that my belly is more rounded than is fashionable, and that my thighs don’t have the sort after gap between them. They touch as I move, but he looks at me as though he could eat me.

“I did, and it took all my control not to go over and hold you.”

I look…