Maybe later
Wrapped in the towel I made my way to the bedroom. Hair still dripping wet I reached for one of David's tank tops and a pair of his boxers. He would be home late, again. And somehow it comforted me, to smell him, even if it was just his clothes, around me. The shirt was too big, but I did not care. I missed him, his touch, the way he used to fuck me. He had been there, in the hospital. He had held my hand, as the doctor had told me about my injuries, the things they had done, to safe my...