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He took me gently in his arms, smiling, basking in the afterglow of our intercourse.
“I love you.” he said, though he wasn’t looking at me. There was no need for me to say anything, I knew it wouldn’t be welcome.
These words of love spoken softly in the dark were nothing new. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened fairly often. It was a bittersweet thing, but I took what I could, even if it wasn’t directed at me. Beggars can’t be choosers.
I took their money and a bit of their unrequited affection. They knew I wouldn’t reject them. That was all I’d ever be good for.