Now can you please just listen to me.” “Okay,” He sighed, sitting down on the leather couch that was adjacent to the desk. “What the hell is ...o important?” “We can’t ever have sex again,” she told him quickly. She needed to get this done and over with as soon as possible. “In fact, we can’t even mention that we had sex. Ever. To no one. Or, or ... I’ll kill you.” “What the fuck?” He cried out, pushing himself off the couch and walking over to her. “Why?” “I love him, Brian,” she cried, this. Usually, he is a good communicator, but when he becomes really upset, he withdraws. As his wife, I need to figure out what he needs. I quietly study him for a while. His fists tighten and then release. His eyes stare at the television, but I can tell his mind is elsewhere. Dark circles line his usually bright eyes. He looks like he aged today. His mood - brooding. What does he need? Sex comes to mind. Should I just climb onto his lap, easing his recliner back, and unzipping his pants? He is so. More

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