He could see her pulling away, feel her pulling away. She was with him physically, she would still talk to him, still lay by his side at night when sh... slept, still laugh at his jokes, still hold his one of his fingers when she could. But she wasn’t with him mentally. She didn’t tell him her fears anymore, she wouldn’t tell him her problems, or when she wanted to do something dangerous. She wouldn’t tell him her worries. She would talk with him but not about anything really important or about. She smeared it around with a look of rapt curiosity."I suppose this is kind of disgusting, though," she chuckled, squeamishly poking at the goo pooling at her navel, watching it stretch out a slippery strand attached to her finger. Her voice reminded me of her mom's at that moment. Slightly deeper. Full of lust.Denise apparently heard echoes of the same thing, because she immediately contributed: "You don't SOUND disgusted."Lissa laughed openly, then. Not a giggle or a chuckle but a full-bodied. More

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