Your nearly insatiable sexual appetite which so closely matches mine. Your hugs, which I never want to end. Your love of music, and sharing music with you, both creating and listening. Your love of your mother, and the relationship you had with her. Your love of your children, and of Sarah.

It was too much. I was going to let Biddy down, let everyone down. Breathe.

Your beautiful body, your beautiful face. The taste of your mouth, the smell of your skin, the sensation of your body wrapped around mine in a thousand different ways.

Get your head between your legs, Chris, right down at your knees – breathe, Chris, breathe.

* * *

I lay in bed eight nights later, waiting for Sarah to close the bathroom door and have her shower. An early Friday night in bed together meant … sleeping, most likely. Holding Sarah, smelling her, reversethrusting my pelvis so my boner wouldn’t cause an argument. Her slow breathing, jittery muscles, drifting away.

Almost certainly that would be the case – but only almost certainly. The knife-edge of doubt could be deadly with Sarah. I’d spent nearly all of my thirties trying to fall asleep, wondering if I’d misread the signals, that Sarah actually did want to have sex but was waiting for me to initiate, only to feel her body twitching, her brain checking out.

She was still in the kitchen, pottering. I turned on the bed, kicked my legs out.

From Biddy: Where are you!?

From Zac: Dude, we need you here!

It was after ten. I’d agreed to meet them at seven-thirty in the CBD before making the fatal mistake of heading home to get changed. They were out with Biddy’s friend Kelly; Biddy and Kelly were going to Tasmania to trek the following morning.

To Biddy: Sorry, I’m really pooped!

From Biddy: But Zac’s here. He thought you were coming!

From Zac: Dude, don’t abandon me! I’ve already got issues on that front, as you know :)

To Zac: Man, it’s just that –

The bathroom door closed, the shower started. I reached over for Sarah’s phone, typed her passcode.

From Assi: I think about you smell all day

You smell. Ha. But my sense of superiority as a native speaker paled against the thought of his face between Sarah’s legs.

From Sarah, in reply: There’s plenty more of that, honey, if you can show me you deserve it.

Kudos.

I put the phone back on her bedside table as she came out of the bathroom, through the hallway, reappeared, a towel on her head, another round her waist and chest.

‘So, am I ever going to meet him?’ I said.

‘Assi? You spoke to him at the club.’

‘Yeah, but my vision was all over the place.’

‘I can show you a photo.’ She walked round the bed, reached for her phone.