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The week that followed my wild escapade in a downtown Chicago hotel was the longest I had ever encountered. Or so it seemed. Every minute seemed like an hour, every hour like a day and by the time the end of the weekend came, I wasn't even certain I would recognize Elizabeth if I was to accidentally bump into her on the street.

I have replayed the entire incident in my head a thousand times. I wished I had been more assertive, appearing more confident, not like an awkward little boy who doesn't know what to do with his hands. I wanted to know things about her; just trivial things, nothing too important. But I hadn't had a chance to ask her any questions. Whenever I did try to get something out of her, she would slam me down with words or ignore me. It bothered me a lot. Even though all we did was have a quick, uninhibited fuck, I still wanted a bit more out of it than the simple carnal pleasure I received.

When I thought about her and that first Wednesday, I would get aroused instantly. The coldness that she radiated heated me up more than I could believe. She was like a challenge to me now, and although I realized that I had thought about this whole business much more than I should have, I couldn't stop myself from doing it. I would think about her constantly. I'd think of Elizabeth in the car on the way to work and then back home, at work, nostalgically glancing at the clock when it neared the noontime. I thought about her at home, while playing tennis and even when I was helping my kids with their homework. ...

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