But that was over.She wouldn't dress up in public again. No, it wouldn't happen again. It couldn'thappen again. It was over. She was safe. She clung t... that. She was safe. She built an island of stability for herselfaround that point. She was safe. After a few nights, she had recovered herselfenough to return to some of her comforting rituals, her life settling backinto her old groove. She didn't masturbate, of course, she didn't dare confrontthat. There was an urge, but it intimidated her,. Guess what I was thinking about?I kept re-running my best recollection of Tess' initial overtures: The conditions she had set out when we had first gotten together as lovers. What, exactly, was supposed to be our 'understanding?' It was easy enough to remember her "no commitments' spiel.I knew I could never really fault her for misleading me about The Big Picture. It was the nuances, though, where The Deal, for me at least, had come apart at the seams. Sure, I had understood that in September,. More

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