Chapter 123 Ambrose

• How many times have I pictured this? How many times have I closed my eyes and taken myself in hand and thought of Gardenia like this, splayed back across my therapist's couch, her lips parted and her eyes wide?
• Too many to count. And every time I thought of it, I was filled with shame. I hated myself for my weakness, my inability to resist my beautiful young patient.
• I'm not filled with shame now. As I drop to my knees, I feel only hunger. It's sharp and urgent, twisting inside me, and I blow out a steadying breath as I place one hand on her sneaker.