“He was thinking how much he loved my skin, the way it felt against his. He loved the way I was so independent. He loved that about me, but he also loved that I accepted his help, like a hand up from a bench when he offered it. He wanted someone who could stand on her own two feet, but would admit she needed help if she did, in fact, need it. And he wanted me to need it sometimes because he was going to need me sometimes. He wanted us to need each other. I.”
