Yesterday's incident was one of my many follies about John. And I didn't want there to be another version of it. Unfortunately, I didn't know what demon was inside me, but I nodded and took the next step with my fingers clasped together.
He led me back to the house, which still felt the same when I looked around every corner. Nothing had changed except the night was no longer quiet. For the first time, John consciously allowed me to sleep in the same room as him. Even what we were doing now made me so intoxicated.
His touch was no longer the result of alcohol or simply wanting an escape when he was bored with Hell or when the two of them got into trouble. This time, it was probably more similar to what we did in the hospital—full of love.
Could I be naive this time by believing we had love even though John didn't say a word? I didn't have the guts to ask, so I let things go as they were.
