katie angermeier

Rise Awake

I yawned, stretched, and exited the master bath, thinking: It’s so nice to be able to keep the bathroom door open around a woman, and my ex-wife was flying above our bed. Technically, legally, it’s just my bed now except for twenty-nine minutes last night when we revisited well-explored territories. We knew it was wrong and confusing—discussed that openly while I sucked each one of her toes, ran the backs of my fingers along the insides of her thighs.