Was it not good? I said.

Can we talk?

You used to like it, didn't you?

Can I ask you something? he said. Do you want me to leave her?

I looked at him then. He looked tired, and I could see that he hated everything I was doing to him. My body felt completely disposable, like a placeholder for something more valuable. I fantasized about taking it apart and lining my limbs up side by side to compare them.

No, I said. I don't want that.

I don't know what to do. I've been feeling fucking awful about it. You seem so upset with me and I don't know how I can make you happy.

Well, maybe we shouldn't see each other any more.

Yeah, he said. Okay. I guess you're probably right.