But our moral codes were entirely different. He keeled over, like he was having an ulcer right then and there. And he actually might have been. He had never done anything like this, never even been tempted.

“It’s only because it’s you. Anyone else I’d be able to resist.”

This was meant as a great compliment, but it felt impersonal to me, like he’d been caught in the snare of my work. Whereas my feelings for him were totally pure, I’d simply been drawn to him.

“To my pretty face,” he said glumly. We each worried that the other one adored something that wasn’t really us. [...]