Free Never a Hero by Marie Sexton

of yourself.” This was a sound of comfort. Of compassion. It was a sound that meant, “I understand.”
    And then he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms.
    Relief swept through me like a drug in my veins. It made me limp, and I clung to him. I breathed in his smell, part disinfectant, part soap, a hint of the animals he worked and lived with every day. I let the comfort of his apartment and his presence wash over me. My heart slowed. The anger and resentment my mother had stirred in me faded into the background.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “My m-mother called. They’re coming to visit in December.”
    “Oh, hun. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry she upsets you like this.”
    “I’m fine.” And I was. Standing there in his arms, I felt good. I relaxed against him, and he continued to hold me. He ran his hands up and down my back. He rocked me a little, almost as if we were dancing. I felt at peace. I felt whole and healthy and right. I felt . . .
    Well, I was beginning to feel more than a little aroused, and if the growing bulge against my hip was any indication, I wasn’t the only one.
    This was what I wanted. Not just Nick, with his strong arms and gentle hands. Not just the comfort of being with him, but the feeling of normalcy that came with desire, and with feeling desired.
    I pulled away enough to meet his eyes. “Will you kiss me?”
    He smiled, a sad, sweet smile. He put his hand behind my neck and pulled me close again. He did kiss me, but not as I’d hoped. Not on the lips. He kissed my cheek, and the sensitive spot in front of my ear. “You have no idea how much I’d like to.”
    “But you won’t.”
    “I’m afraid if I open that door, I’ll never be able to close it again.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I know.”
    He brushed his lips over my neck, and I tipped my head back so he could do it more. He sighed, almost a moan. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, but if I did what you want—what I want—you’d hate me for it. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s true.”
    I was disappointed, but not terribly. Yes, I wanted him, but what mattered to me most was being with him. Feeling like I could be myself.
    “Want to watch the rest of the game with me?” he asked
    “Sure.” We settled on the couch together, and he let me snuggle up next to him, curled into his warmth. “Will you hold me a bit more?”
    “You bet,” he said, putting his arms around me. “That I can do.”

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?”
    It was October 29, and I was sitting next to Nick on his couch, eating the blandest popcorn I’d ever tasted. No salt. No butter. It was like eating packing peanuts. “No. And if this has anything to do with June’s conjoined twins idea, the answer is ‘hell no.’”
    He laughed. “Nothing like that, I promise. I wondered if you’d like to come to my office with me and help hand out candy?”
    “You’re open on Halloween night?”
    “Well, not really. But the Light District does this safe Halloween event every year where the kids trick-or-treat at the businesses. I thought it might be fun to have some company.”
    I didn’t have anything better to do, so two nights later, I climbed into the passenger seat of Nick’s Tahoe and rode downtown to his veterinary clinic, which sat right on the edge of the Light District. Down the street, I could see a strangely luminescent glow from behind the buildings.
    “Wow. Is that the lights?”
    “Yeah. Haven’t you been down here?”
    “Not often. Not ever for a holiday.”
    “We’ll have to go see it all later.” Nick unlocked the door to his office and I followed him inside. I’d expected the waiting room to be as bland and sterile as most doctors’ offices. In some ways, it was. The walls were covered with the usual posters, detailing healthy diet and weight for both dogs and cats, but they were hard to see through the dozens of paper witches and ghosts that hung from the