Teach Me How to Love You
Alan let me spiral, not interrupting, just letting it run its course.
When I finally wound down, he said, quietly, "Give yourself some grace."
"I hate that he was my first." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "My first love, my first... everything. Now I don't even know if I'll ever feel that way about anyone again."
Alan looked at me, something working behind his eyes. A knock at the door cut whatever it was short.
"Come in," he called.
The door opened and a woman breezed in. Early forties, maybe, though you'd never guess it from how she looked or moved. Stylish head to toe, with a bright, easy energy that filled the room the second she walked through it.