The worst part about it, Tanya thought, is they would never be able to fuck again.
As Tom adjusted himself in the passenger seat, she watched an old lady with an oxygen tank totter to an empty Cadillac. Tom was unaccustomed to riding shotgun, and made a big production of clicking the seatbelt securely into place.
No, the worst part wasn’t that they would never be able to fuck again, she decided. The worst part was that it would always be her fault.
Tom’s wheelchair rattled loudly in the trunk the entire twenty-miles to their apartment.