The moment those words, “I love you,” left my mouth, it felt as though I had done something forbidden and something exhilarating at the same time. Even I didn’t know how or why I said it at that point, when it wasn’t as though we were having sex for the first time. We’ve had it countless times, but somehow I just felt like saying it then.His muscles locked under my touch, or perhaps it was just a fragment of my own imagination from the dread I felt after saying “I love you” to someone who was already mated to another woman. I bolted upright, dragging the blanket over my chest and sliding to the far edge of the mattress.“I didn’t, I didn’t mean it. I mean, you should ignore me. I wasn’t thinking straight.”His eyes remained on me, lids heavy and unfocused in the post-sex haze, or whatever it was that made him look more frail than usual.“You shouldn’t apologize,” he said, curling his fingers around my hand and tracing a slow circle over my knuckles with his thumb. “I don’t mind it.”
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