I was on a high for the next two days. Adam didn't show, but the endorphins from the weekend continued. Belinda met me at work. We decided to eat there, and then we went to the cinema in Russell Street.

It was close to eleven o'clock before I got home. I showered and crawled into bed. By Wednesday, my high faded. I wanted to stay positive. On the way to work on the train, I kicked myself for not forcing my phone number on Adam and asking for his. For some reason, this kept happening, and it wasn't until after he left that I realised I hadn't given him my number.

The houses behind high walls and fences whipped by as the train sped towards the city. The roofs varied in colour and height, and the fences were decorated with graffiti. I focused on the pictures to take my mind off Adam. Some of the art was wonderful. I read that the government had developed a program that commissioned graffiti artists to work on real projects. The idea was to stop them from doing it illegally. I couldn't imagine it worked because another street artist would take their place.

By the time I got to squash that night, I was on the way down. My squash game was disastrous. I needed to win, so my team became the overall winners and climbed the leaderboard. I lost. Even though the girls put on a brave face and said it was okay, I knew they were disappointed. Emma dropped me off at the corner. I walked along the road and prayed Adam would be waiting for me in the stairwell. He wasn't.

Percy caught me as I was opening my door. "Hello, Jasmine. I am sorry to disturb but can I borrow some milk?"

"Yeah sure, Percy. Just a minute." I filled a cup.

"I will buy you some more tomorrow. I finished work late and forgot to get some."

"That's okay, Percy. Don't worry about it." I smiled. "I'll probably need to borrow some back one day."

Percy hesitated and shuffled before saying, "So...you have a boyfriend now. He was very good to help me; you must thank him for me once more."

"I will." I grinned and raised my eyebrows in question. "And what about you? Do you have a girlfriend now? Macy said you met someone at the party she took you to."

He beamed. "Nigella. She is very, very nice. Percy likes her very much." His smile faded as he said, "She is from Pakistan and... I am Indian. There will be trouble with our parents. Nigella says we must be strong."

Percy continued to tell me about the racial differences. I'm a bit thick that way. If you like someone, race shouldn't come into it. He talked for another half an hour. I showered and crawled into bed.

Thursday dragged on. By the end of the day, I was edgy about how to spend the evening and any hope of seeing Adam died. I wondered if men ever experience the trauma of love like women. You know? If they sat at home, desperate to see their girlfriends. Somehow, I don't think they do. In my experience, it's the woman waiting on the man. If the woman decided to take matters into her own hands, she'd be considered a "Fatal Attraction".

I watched TV and then lay in the darkness thinking about Adam and why he hadn't come around. Had I done something to turn him off? I decided I hadn't. Perhaps the weeknights weren't good for him, and I'd only see him on the weekends. I considered this and concluded that if I spent every weekend with him, was like the last, I'd be able to make it through each week.

I must have fallen asleep because I was woken by someone knocking on the door. It took me a moment to register what was going on. Dazed, I checked the clock. 1.37 am. The knock came again. Panic surged through me. It had to be the police, and something had happened to one of my family. I struggled to get out of bed and found my dressing gown. "Who is it?"

"Adam."

I dropped the dressing gown on the floor when I heard his quiet, subdued voice and hoped he wasn't drunk.

"Hey, sorry I woke you."

I couldn't see his face but his voice quavered. He grabbed me; his chest heaved.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

He didn't answer but buried his face in my hair as he carried me inside and kicked the door closed. Adam lay with me. He held me so tight that he nearly broke me in half.

I fought hard to suppress my panic, sure that he was in trouble. I didn't ask. I sensed he didn't want to talk but needed to hold me. I cradled his head against my breasts and ran my fingers through his hair as he shuddered against me.

It astounded me that he was crying. My heart melted. To know he was comfortable enough to let me see him at his weakest filled me with pride. I sensed the urgency of his sorrow subside as he loosened his grip on me. I didn't speak. I wanted to be there for him and decided he would talk to me when he was ready. I felt empowered. Something within me had changed. My questioning self remained silent, and the real strength of my womanhood had surfaced.

Adam's lips found mine in the darkness. I kissed him. He responded and touched my face with his fingers. I left my hand in his hair and continued to caress his scalp, my lips on his, so my warm breath caressed his skin.

I began again taking his lip with me in this deliberate sequence. Adam exhaled and ran his hand along my leg. He gripped my backside and drew me towards him, his breathing racing with exigency.

He pressed his body to mine and ran his tongue over my nipple. The sensation made me draw in air. My swollen core responded to his now familiar hands. Adam caressed me; he was inside of me again, driving himself exactly as I wanted him to. I gulped for breath as the sensations his body caused cascaded over me.

We lay in each other's arms and fell asleep.  

OMG, something terrible must have happened to Adam. 

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