My legs are still trembling and wobbly from the way Gabe made me feel, but I force myself to my door as fast as I can. I don’t want him to follow me. I don’t want him to walk me to my door. And I can’t handle a kiss good night.

I can’t believe I cried like that, it’s embarrassing.

The key clicks in my door, I fling it open and flick on my lights.

When I step inside, the first thing I see is the rose Gabe brought me. The sight of it makes me break down in tears again.

I hate that I’m crying like this, especially because I don’t understand why I’m crying.

Flicking off the lights, I fumble to my bedroom, shedding my dress as I walk. I don’t bother taking off my makeup, and collapse on my bed.

Ripples of the last orgasm are still pulsing through me, and I close my eyes, embracing them. I had no idea anything could possibly feel so good.

Gabe did what he promised he would, he blew my mind.

Now what?

Do I let him do it again? Can I have a purely sexual arrangement with a man? I’m not sure how they even work.

The dinner and pool playing was fun, but that seems like a normal relationship.

Gabe thinks he felt something more between us, but I’m sure it was only because it was my first time having an orgasm. It was such a big, monumental and, yes, mind-blowing moment in my life that of course I was emotional.

I flip over, and pull the comforter up to my chin.

My mother loved Chet. He was a clean-cut, all-American boy who played football in college and got a good job in the executive trainee program at Kodak.

She would have a heart attack if I brought Gabe home for dinner. And my father, no doubt, would lecture me about the time he had a rebellious phase.

I was always too scared to try anything in college for fear of my parents’ disapproval. Even when all my college friends were going over the border to Canada for the weekends to take advantage of the younger drinking age, I’d make excuses and stay home.

They’re the most wonderful, loving and supportive parents anyone could ever ask for. I definitely lucked out in the parents department. Because of their love, I’ve always trusted and respected their guidance in life. I’ve definitely walked the straight and narrow path of sensibleness.

I can only hope to find a husband as wonderful as my father. Maybe I should start hanging around Sophie and find myself a doctor.

Just thinking about the idea of another man makes my body scream at me. It wants Gabe.

I flip onto my belly, pull the pillow over my head. I try not to think about how much fun we had tonight, even before he touched me.

My mind spins until eventually I fall asleep.

In the morning, gentle waves are still washing through me. Gabe’s magic touch is still with me.

I can’t imagine not ever feeling this way again.

The alarm on my phone goes off and I groan. It’s time to get ready for work. Somehow I think this is going to be a long day. And tomorrow is probably going to be the longest Friday ever.

“Hey, Marcy,” I say, as I arrive at work.

“Eloise, you’re glowing this morning. Why?”

My cheeks burn. I hate that I turn red so easily.

“Dunno, maybe it’s the new moisturizer I bought.”

She looks at me suspiciously but I ignore her and make my way to my room. I put my backpack in the cupboard and prepare the room for the day.

There’s a tap at the door, and my mother pokes her head in.

“Good morning, sweetie. How are you today?” she asks.

I smile, my lips a tight line as I fight turning red.

“Good, Mom. How are you?”

“You know, same as always but today’s going to be a great day.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it’s my wedding anniversary, sweetie!”

“Of course it is! This weekend is Memorial Day. I can’t believe it slipped my mind.” They have the easiest anniversary to remember because it’s always just before Memorial Day, and somehow I forgot. Because my mind is too full of Gabe.

She laughs and says, “As long as your father doesn’t forget.”

“There is no chance of that happening,” I say, knowing my father would never forget.

“I’m going to make a special dinner this Saturday, I hope you can make it.”

“Of course, Mom. There’s still no man in my life.”

“You will meet a nice boy, don’t you worry. One who’s even better than Chet was. Maybe you can find yourself a nice surgeon.”

I smile and nod, my lips an even tighter line than before. Of course she’d bring up Chet. And surgeon now? Before it was always simply a doctor.

“I have to get ready for my first appointment,” I say holding up a blue file folder.

“Talk to you later,” she says, and closes the door.

I drape myself over the desk. What do I do? My body craves Gabe, but a relationship with him would be impossible. Maybe I should do like my mother says, and focus my energy on finding a nice guy who’s husband material. Before I even finish the thought, the feel of Gabe’s arms around me as he held me when I cried takes over.

He was so concerned about me, and surprisingly caring. Chet never held me like that.

And I made Gabe rush me home. My chest grows heavy with guilt. I pick up my phone and type out a text to him.

Sorry for the way last night ended. I was overwhelmed.

I hit send before I can second guess myself.

My first patient arrives. It’s a man who snapped his Achilles tendon playing racquetball, and he just got the all-clear from his surgeon to start physiotherapy.

He smells like cheese, and winces and whimpers far too much. The thirty-minute appointment can’t go fast enough.

The second he’s out the door, I pick up my phone.

Nothing.

I don’t know what I expected. Perhaps I thought Gabe would send me a text saying how everything was okay, and that I wasn’t rude.

I’m not sure why I care so much anyway. Maybe it’s cleaner if things end this way. Except it has only been thirty minutes. For all I know, he’s still in bed, asleep.

I see two more patients, a painful hip impingement and a sore neck. I barely notice what the women look like, and don’t think I’ll recognize their faces when I see them again. My mind is stuck on Gabe.

Before sore neck has even shut the door behind her, I pick up my phone. Still nothing from him. I type out a message.

It would be nice to see you again.

As soon as I hit send, I realize that’s open to interpretation. Though I’m not sure how I even interpret it. I quickly type out another text and send it before I drive myself crazy with overthinking everything.

…for meaningless sex.

Marcy hasn’t given me the files for the rest of my appointments. Sometimes she really annoys me. It’s funny how she perfectly organizes everyone else in this practice except me. I’m sure she does it on purpose. I don’t know what her problem is.

I march into the reception area, determined to give her a piece of my mind.

As I round the corner, I freeze. Gabe is sitting in the waiting area, holding his phone. His eyes flick between me and the screen, smirking.

Naturally I turn the color of a fire engine.

“Your next appointment has arrived,” Marcy says from behind her desk.

I force myself to drag my eyes from Gabe, and look at her. She passes me the files, although she’s staring at Gabe.

Narrowing my eyes, I say, “You need to give me the files in the morning.”

“I wasn’t sure your ten o’clock was coming back today, since he was here yesterday.”

“Oh, okay, I guess.”

She mouths, “I think he came back to see me.”

I ignore her, and turn to find Gabe. He’s already halfway down the hall to my room. I hurry after him.

When I reach him, he winks, and says, “Got your text.”