Page 66 of The Unraveling

His lips curl. “I couldn’t… you know.”

“You mean physically?”

“Yeah, I mean physically. Do I have to spell it out? Do you need me to say I couldn’t get my dick hard?”

I blink a few times. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I wasn’t sure if you meant you couldn’t go through with it mentally or physically. We’ve talked a lot about the pent-up guilt you have, so I thought perhaps…”

He blows out two cheeks full of air and hangs his head. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m just frustrated. And talking about it is embarrass-ing.”

“Okay. I understand. But why don’t we back things up a bit? Because while this may have manifested itself as a physical problem, this type of issue often stems from anxiety and stress. Our minds are almost always in control of our bodies. How about you tell me about the woman you went out with? Is she someone you’ve known for a while or someone you’ve recently met?”

“Recently met.”

“How did you meet?”

“Dating app.”

My lips flatten to a grim line. “What does she look like?”

He lifts his head up to face me and squints. “Why does that matter?”

Shit. It doesn’t. Other than to feed my morbid curiosity. I can’t help but wonder about all the little blondes he flitted around with at different restaurants. It makes me wonder if all those women were dates, too.

Thankfully, I’ve grown adept at covering my missteps. “Perhaps she resembled your wife and it brought up a lot of mixed emotions.”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with her.” His eyes bounce back and forth between mine for a long time, like he’s contemplating something, then come into focus and lock with my gaze. “There’s another woman.”

It hits like a blow, a gut punch to a soft belly when you’re least ex-pecting it.

I swallow. “Go on…”

Gabriel rakes a hand through his hair once again. “I’m consumed by her. I can’t stop thinking about her. The only time I seem to be able to, you know, get hard is when I think about her.”

My heart has been racing since Gabriel walked in, but now it feels like it’s trying to batter its way out of my chest. There’s not one woman but two. “Tell me about the other woman. Is this someone you’ve gone out with previously?”

He shakes his head. “She’s off-limits.”

“Is she… a student?”

“No.” His jaw clenches.

I think back to when I was following him, to the woman at the Italian restaurant. The young blonde with the boisterous laugh. Is it her? Or maybe it’s the woman he sometimes walks between buildings with after class? Another blonde. That one is older. Is a work colleague off-limits? Maybe she’s his chairperson? That would make things sticky…

“Have you had these feelings for the other woman for a while?”

He looks away, seeming lost in thought, then meets my eyes. “Why is sex so much better when you have it with someone you shouldn’t?”

“I suppose it’s the forbidden-fruit effect. It’s a thrill to think about being in a sexual or romantic relationship with someone we’re not allowed to have. It heightens all of the senses. For some people, though, thoughts of being with someone—even someone as taboo as a priest or your boss’s spouse—also provides a sense of safety.”

“Or maybe…” Gabriel swallows. “Your doctor.”

The air ignites, crackling dangerously around us.

I grip the armrest of my chair. “The safety comes in because while you can fantasize about the off-limits person, the reality is that it can’t ever happen. If we fantasize about a person who is attainable, it’s not as safe, since the reality of it is an actual possibility.”

Gabriel leans in, inches closer from his seat. “What if the person who’s off-limits isn’t really as off-limits as we think? Then does it become dangerous?”

I open my mouth to respond—with what, I have no idea—but nothing comes out. Gabriel’s eyes gleam, almost like he’s enjoying my squirming. But it can’t be that, can it?

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