My sexual Addiction
But the image of his jaw tightening, his voice flattening, kept me from doing it.
Instead, I sat by my apartment window, phone in hand, watching the rain smear the city lights into watercolor blurs.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Miss me?
My stomach dropped.
Another buzz, this time, a photo.
Grainy, old, Black and white.
Lane, younger, maybe late twenties. Standing beside a girl who looked disturbingly like me same build, same hair, same shy tilt of the chin.