What could be going on? I thought. Quickly undressing, I wiped off my face and turned on our community shower, answering the door in a towel. It was M...ke, drunk. As he stumbled in, I headed back to the shower I had so falsely started earlier. Troubled by the lack of noise I turned around and there he stood, my panties hanging off of his fingers. I wanted to die right then and there until I noticed the bulge he had developed in his pants from watching me shower. He slipped his boxers off as I. I waited as he came to me and took me in his arms. ‘Angela, I want you to stay. You can leave any time you want, but I hope you won’t. I love you.’ Walt had often whispered his love when he thought I couldn’t hear him. He needed to express himself, but didn’t want to put pressure on me. He didn’t know it wasn’t pressure: it was an anchor, a lifeline to a dying heart. I turned and cried, ‘How can you live a whore? A dirty…cheap…whore?’ ‘I don’t love a whore,’ he whispered. ‘I love a deeply. More

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