Yielding

I resisted as long as I could, but I’ve never been good at resisting. I could feel the press of her intent months back, before I left (before I came back), like an overwarm hand on the back of my neck. I kicked off my shoes in her bedroom that night resolving, ‘I will not have sex with her tonight, I will not’ –

That came back to me, hours later, when I left her flat in the early morning laughing, aching, loose-limbed. I waited for regret to come, prickling my heart, but it never did. I began to wonder instead why I’d wasted so much time refusing.