"I can't see you any more," said Theora over the cordless phone. It was two days later. Theora was on the phone with Mike, an on-again, off-again lover.
"WHAT?" Mike exclaimed.
"This whole experience ... with the Russian Mob. It's left me … shaken to the core."
"It's Edison Carter, isn't it?" Mike interrogated. "You're sleeping with Edison Carter!"
"I'm not sleeping with Edison Carter. I'm not sleeping with ANYONE," Theora shot back. "I need something … you can't provide."
"What do you want?" Mike asked. "Name it."
"I want something … more than sex," said Theora.
"I'm your man, baby," said Mike. "Whatever you want, I've got it."
"I don't KNOW what I want," said Theora.
"What does he have that I don't?" Mike whined. "The fancy car? The bulging credit account?"
"You think you can just BUY your way into my life?" Theora snapped, now visibly angry. "What I want, you can't buy in a store."
"What DO you want?" Mike shot back.
"For the first time in my life, I've met a man … who makes me feel good about myself," Theora explained. "I realize now that there's a lot … that I've been missing.
"I want something … more than physical. Something more than sex."
"Are you sure you should be doing this?" Mike asked. "You know, they say you shouldn't make any major decisions so soon after a traumatic event."
"I told you, I realize now that I need something ... more than sex," Theora replied. "I want to ... feel something.
"I want ... intimacy."
"We're not INTIMATE enough?"
"I guess what I want is ... emotional intimacy."
Mike let out a sigh on the other end of the line. "Good-bye, Theora."
Click. Dial tone.
Theora shut off the cordless phone and stared off into space. I sure hope I'm doing the right thing.