She stops. Her hands on his shoulders. "I'll help you with the shirt too" now she's whispering. She slowly drags her hands down on his upper chest and...takes the first bottom in her black nails. She looks in his eyes and opens it slowly. "It's ok, I just want you to feel a little more comfortable and relaxed. You have a t-shirt underneath anyhow..." Then she pulls the lower part of the shirt from his pants. And keeps opening the buttons very slowly. Slow torture. She's so close, he feels the. “You really mean that? You believe me now?” I nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, tears welling up yet again as I thought of what I’d done to him. “I’ve been completely unfair to you, haven’t I?” “It was my fault too,” he said. “I should never have said that in the first place.” He took a breath, his hand running through my hair. “I spent all this week, after you wouldn’t talk to me on Sunday, trying to convince myself that I’d misjudged you, that I was wrong about you. I’m so. More

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