Kate knows. It's not about sex. She can lie to herself and make herself believe it started that way, but what's the point? It never has been. If it had, they'd fuck until they were done and then they'd be done.

She's worried, knots in her stomach, sick-worried, about what happens if she can't. If it always feels like too much. Talking about it's just going to make it worse, though, and asking how long he'll wait is too pathetic for words.

"I am 'making a go of it' with you, British," she finally says. "I'm not giving up sex with you for my health."