Baby Girl

  Everything happens for a reason, and this was no exception.

  I lay in bed, trying to make us both comfortable and I thought of the jar on the refrigerator. The receipts. The souvenirs. She had, from the beginning, kept everything that reminded her of us.

  Everything that was some form of proof that we existed as a couple.

  I thought of the text that she sent me the other day. I remembered it word for word.

  Part of me has been missing my entire life. I have lived with a void in my soul. You fill that void, and you fill it perfectly. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. Life without you in it is not living. I need you in my life to survive.

  To survive.

  This poor girl had no idea what she was signing on for. Although I was a man’s worst nightmare if crossed, I was, to women, kind, considerate, articulate, caring, and even romantic. Sexually, I was a demanding prick. She had only seen a portion of what I expected or wanted from her sexually. She is eager if she’s nothing else.

  I wondered about her ability to be sexually compatible with me. She had no idea what was in store for her.

  She lay beside me, her breathing becoming shallow. Poor girl. She had a rough day. Her knees bandaged from the concrete parking lot. Her hair wet from crying. Her muscles were certainly sore from crying and being tense for an hour and a half on the couch.

  I thought of my mother, and the box I found in the closet, and her love for me. Love that I never really knew existed until I found that box. I thought again of the jar, and the similarities of the two.

  I moved closer to Kelli. My hips against her ass, my chest tight to her back. Her left leg was straight, and her right bent at the knee. I bent my right leg, and pressed it lightly against hers. I pressed my left leg to hers. I reached over her with my right arm, and cupped her left breast in my hand lightly. I slid my left hand between her head and the pillow, allowing her to rest her head on my extended forearm.

  I laid my hand flat on the pillow. It felt cool on my hand. I flattened out my hand, feeling the cool fabric of the pillow.

  Her breathing became shallow, and she twitched. Good, she was going to sleep. I held her a little closer. She twitched again, and moved her right arm toward the pillow. Her hand rested beside mine on the pillow. I held her close.

  As her breathing became shallow again, she twitched.

  Her hand slid to mine, and she slowly formed the palm of her hand around my index finger. She closed her hand and softly squeezed my finger in the palm of her hand.

  And she fell asleep.