Heather tugged at her swimsuit, and one of her breasts got stuck in the fabric. She’d had a mastectomy on her left side, so that half of the bathing suit always slipped on easily, leaving the right breast behind. She told me once she forgot there was still a boob there. How could you forget about a boob? I guess if there was only one to think about, it might be easier to lose just the one, but I think she just got distracted.“I messed up,” I admitted, for the first time since it had happened. “I slept with my ex again.”“Well, was it worth it?” Heather asked, tugging at the fabric of her suit. I watched out of my peripheral vision as her skin stretched and finally gave in. Halleluiah, she was clothed. “I hope you knew what you were doing.”“I did,” I said. Then, “At least I thought I did. But then I went out with the band guy again.”“Ah,” Heather winked. “Slept with him, too?”“No.” I’d thought about it plenty, but that didn’t quite fulfill the same need.
