I almost asked.
The question hovered on my tongue, dangerous and tempting.
But I swallowed it back.
Names meant attachment.
Names meant a future.
Names meant the possibility of disappointment when this perfect stranger turned out to be just another man who would find me wanting in the end.
"Does it matter?" he asked quietly.
I shook my head.
"No. I prefer it this way."
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "As do I."
He rose from the bed with that same unconscious grace, moving to the bathroom.
I heard water running, and then he returned with a warm washcloth.
Another unexpected kindness from this man of contradictions.
After we'd cleaned up, he surprised me by pulling me against him, my back to his chest, one arm draped over my waist. The position was achingly intimate—more tender than I'd expected from our encounter.
"Stay," I murmured, the word escaping before I could stop it.
His lips pressed against my shoulder. "Until morning."
I should have left it there.
Should have accepted the temporary comfort of his body wrapped around mine without asking for more.
But the strange safety of anonymity loosened my tongue.
"I've never felt like that before," I admitted, voice barely audible. "Like I was really there. Present. Not just performing what I thought someone wanted."
His arm tightened around me. "I know."
Of course he did. Somehow, this stranger had seen through me from the first moment—had recognized something in me that I barely acknowledged to myself.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, immediately regretting the question.
It violated our unspoken agreement, reached for a future we'd deliberately left undefined.
He was quiet for so long that I thought he might not answer. Then, "Would you want to?"
The honest answer was yes.
Yes, I wanted to see him again.
Wanted to explore this strange connection that had sparked between us. Wanted to feel again the peculiar freedom of being truly seen.
But I'd learned enough about myself in therapy to recognize a pattern forming.
The beginning of another attachment to another unavailable man. Another cycle of seeking validation from someone who couldn't or wouldn't give me what I needed.
