That night, we lie in bed. He faces me, stares deep into my eyes, and we breathe in rhythm on my sheets.

He takes my face in his hands.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you for taking me.”

He presses his torso against my body and our ribcages touch, the heat of our skins greeting.

Our mouths finally meet and it’s a stunner, that kiss, it’s like a fireworks finale or a big celebration or a parade and we move our bodies even closer together and our tongues meet and his hands are on my skin and it’s so beautiful that I stop thinking about lower halves and checks, and I kiss him back deeply, my man, and I move even closer and I hold the half of him. I hold what’s mine.

IN THE MORNING, THE SUN IS STUCK behind gray clouds, a hazy quiet to the rhythm of the world.

I make my way to work. Bleary eyed, I stop for coffee in the shop on the corner. Inside, the walls are done in a dark wood and deep green paint. The coffee seller is cheerful.

“Well, good morning there! What can we get you started today?”

“Just a large black coffee,” I say.

“Two coins please.”

I slide them across the counter.

“Thank you and you have a great day now, you hear?”

I pour cream into the coffee, two sugars, stir it until it is the right sweet. I lift it to my lips to take a sip and the knot contracts, seizes, cripples my limbs.

I WAKE ON THE FLOOR, THE FACE OF THE concerned coffee seller sliding into my view, the ceiling light creating a dizzying halo behind her head.

“Oh my god, are you OK? Are you OK? Do you want me to call someone?”

I shake my head and slowly wrench my body up from the floor.

The coffee is all over me, my black dress soaked, my head throbbing.

I make it through work, then take my body home, collapse into the sheets, sleep deep.

THE NEXT DAY, MY HEAD IS SORE, POUNDing. Instead of work, I go to the doctor.

“What seems to be the problem?”

The doctor has black hair, brown eyes, a small mouth.

“Well, I’ve been falling.”

“Falling?”

“My knot starts aching and then I black out wherever I am.”

“Knot? What knot?”

“I have a... well, I’ll just show you.” I stand up and lift my dress. The knot of my torso sits before us in the strange light of his office.

“Well, wow, OK, yes, I see, OK.”

“OK?”

“Well, this... this isn’t something I see every day, but I have read about it. You and your mother and your mother’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“I saw your baby pictures in the journals. You know, there has been progress with this.”

“Progress?”

“Well, it’s not anything established yet, but there’s a doctor here who can remove it. The knot.”