He placed his bag and folders on the kitchen bench and came to join me on the couch. “Why are you watching a blank screen?” “What? Oh, uh, the s...ow just finished and I was about to go make something to eat, hey Nate,” I smiled at him. “How was work?” “Oh the usual, I got a few essays done, had to bring most of them home though,” he frowned at the work he would have to do over the weekend. “Apart from that, a slow, normal boring day,” he laughed. That laugh. Please fuck me. “What about you,. Then we moved to the kitchen and she still held my hand.So that's how it started. There were no passionate kisses or falling into bed. That night I received a chaste kiss on the cheek as I departed. But it was enough to confirm I was interested, but that interest was tempered by ghosts of Christmas past. Or I should say Christmas present – in the haunting of my soul by infidelity and treachery. But somehow, every time I looked into Teresa's eyes the life I'd fled in Chicago seemed many years. More

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