But I do now. Camille lets her fingers slip out and even that action ratchets up my arousal. She starts circling her clit again, only for a few rounds, then brings her fingers back inside. My breathing is ragged and my clit throbs against my fingertip. I increase my rhythm and I can feel myself slipping over the edge. My eyes are glued to the screen, to the image of Camille’s fingers inside herself—an image so arresting I will remember it forever. Then I experience another first. I come while staring at a laptop screen, while engaging in Internet sex with my long-distance lover. The climax is quick but intense and exhilarating because of its surprise factor.

I see Camille’s body jerking a little on the screen. Seeing me come has pushed her over her very own edge as well. Her hands lie limp between her legs and I hear a chuckle burst through the speaker.

When we’ve repositioned our laptops and can see each other’s faces properly again, Camille has a triumphant smirk on her face.

“Did you like that?” she asks coyly. Clearly, she already knows the answer.

But I’m in no mood to be coy myself. I’m engulfed by passion and love, still reeling from that unexpected bout of horniness and delight running through me at the mere sight of her. “It was wonderful,” I say, my voice sweet as honey.

“Same time next week?” she asks, the grin wiped off her face.

“Oh yes.” We lie naked on our beds chatting for two hours after.

Chapter Seventeen

Weeks pass and even though my life is tinted by the shiny new gloss of falling in love, I fail to find my groove. In between work, of which the hours seem to extend as the season draws nearer to its close, composing emails to Camille, skyping with Camille at often ungodly hours, and keeping a semblance of a social life, I fail to make any decisions about putting the house on the market and starting the process of moving to Darlinghurst. It seems as though, subconsciously, something is stopping me from taking the next step away from my former life. It’s not because of Rebecca, with whom I’ll never be friends even though our interactions have grown more civilized. Rebecca is not the type of person to push me on the house. She’s not waiting for the money from the sale. And she has already moved on.