Not Your Side Chick

He lifts me and places me on his lap, forcing me to straddle him, then holds me tightly, also forcing me to hug him. I don't resist the contact or pull away. I hug him back. I've missed him. He's the medicine I need to recover right now.

When he places a kiss on my forehead and mumbles how glad he is to find me alive, I ask, "What about your girlfriend? Did you break up with her?"

"No," he answers