Not a punch had been thrown earlier, but I still felt sore deep down inside. I forgot to push number three when I stepped onto the elevator. I watched the numbers light up to six, felt a slight chest pound as I imagined Leroy stepping into the car. I always hoped to run into him outside the apartment, where I could have at least spent time with him without worrying about holding down my skirt. He wouldn’t have dared touch me in the elevator, but we could have talked a bit at least. I would have ridden all the way down to one with him, maybe even walked outside in the sun. Suddenly I realized I had never stood out in the sunlight next to my love, never even walked with him on a street. Never seen him that much, really, outside his apartment. Once, at the beginning of one of my shifts, he was going to make a run to McDonald’s for dinner while Renelle was still home; he had asked me to ride with him, but then Renelle suddenly decided to leave early and so I was stuck in their apartment with the children. Almost as if she knew he had his eyes on me. A woman who had a claim on a man could always sniff out another woman who had his nose open.

But still, I wondered what it would be like to make love with someone I could also make a public display with. I saw them all the time, kids my age leaning against each other while they waited for the bus, holding hands on the train amid a crowd of friends, French-kissing in between counting out change on the counters of cheap Chinese food and chicken joints. I was both jealous and pleasured by watching those who couldn’t control their lust, though it caused me to doubt my own state of mind. I shut off feelings for my old man when I shut the door to his home. I was sure he did the same, if not sooner. But when I watched others in love, I noticed it was hard for them to control their affectionate gestures. I had recently learned a vocabulary word—smitten—and needed to know if it applied to me. Leroy’s wife and children complicated matters, of course, but if he really wanted to see me all the time (like he claimed he did) I worried that he could control his desire so well. That if I myself was able to contain it, suppress it, summon and command it, block it out when out of the moment, then was it even really love for me?