My ex-husband wasn't much for tenderness, but my kids love to cuddle just like me."And I missed falling asleep with you," he said evenly.I missed maki...g love with you, I thought, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth.As we lay there, I wondered how long he had been watching me sleep. His blue eyes were hypnotic. I could have very easily lost myself in them.Finally, I turned and looked over at the clock. It was after ten. I never sleep in that late!"What time do you have to go?" he asked. Something new. Something scary. I began to crave her touch, that sense of mothering closeness, that feeling of my skin on hers. I became a junkie for the perfumed aroma of her clothes, the soft texture of her nylon stockings against my leg, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she held me close, her whispered words. I began to make excuses to visit her, prolonging the outward appearance of agony long after the memory of why I was hurting in the first place had faded. I offered to do yard. More

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