DON’T STOP
“Sure, I can. I mean, I’m keeping the secret between us pretty well, aren’t I?”
He laughed softly—a quiet, tired sound that made my chest ache in a strange way. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling again. The hole stared back at us, small and dark and silent.
“When I married Delaney,” he started, “it was during the first year that I noticed I couldn’t get it up. Something was definitely wrong with my sexual life. I had to visit the hospital, but it seemed like there was nothing they could do. I spent a lot of money and tried a lot of things, but nothing positive came out of it.”