Chapter 18

Honestly, I wasn’t surprised that the bulky black man had e-mailed that he had wanted to conclude something between us that hardly even started. Our fling, as we both labeled our affair, was only about naked and beefy bodies rubbing together. We weren’t good for each other as romantic companions. Our short-term relationship had been pornographic and only about the sex.

Our meetings were always unclothed and always about getting each other off. We never had a conversation about our private lives, which could have easily consisted of family issues, personal stories from our pasts, and getting to know each other. Communication entailed physical events only. Dialogue with James Coffler was out of the question. When we came together, chatter was unnecessary. But none of that mattered since he had ditched me in his e-mail. Coffler was gone. History. See ya.

* * * *

His e-mail was pretty clear cut. I read it numerous times:

Shane—