M has a contract with a publisher and an editor to work with. I have my thoughts.
M has been given the red light to rewrite it in the first person not in the third person.
I met M a month ago. She arrived in my life seemingly out of nowhere
but clearly she knew what she wanted to do with me. She gave me two months to see things her way and then she moved on. She simulated love and had me
saying I love you when we were intimate. I love you I said. I love you. I love you.
She started it with the I love you. I ended it. As soon as I started saying it she ceased
saying it.
M looked like a failed artist I knew who was an accomplished family man.
I was not successful and I had lost my family to my acrimonious wife.
M was a child of hippie parents. She has what sounds like a choking cough and half joyful laughter laugh.
I saw four faces of Mercy:the lovers face, the reasonable face, the face of a man I used to know and the face of the lover.
I want to have a baby with you M said. We were both naked in bed.
I can say what I want she said.
I didn’t say anything.
M  criticized my writing. She was the novelist. I have published my writing on line
but I don’t have a book.
It’s fantasy M said. Fantasy is also real. My urge to have a baby is an ancient desire that has been around forever.
I want your baby she said. I want you baby. I want your baby.
I knew another woman I was dating and who then abruptly broke up with me only to resurface months later and demand that I give her a baby if I want to be with her.
I didn’t want to answer to M or to anyone about my thoughts.
M was generous with her body and love. I had to be careful. She had the potential to be seriously problematic. There was the chance she could burn out from her work as a cornea recoverer and lapse into drinking. She has only been sober for half a year and she hasn’t finalized her divorce. It seems like her husband is booby trapping the divorce papers to trip her up. He would like nothing more than to have her back to take care of their daughter and to do the housework, like every husband he is at a loss without his wife.
M has three silver dollar size red marks from the sun on her arms. It looks like a bad case of psoriasis.
I wasn’t scared of M. I felt there would be time that I would be.
I  grabbed M’s throat when I made love to her. She moved her head and neck where I wanted them. I put my hand over her mouth. I was careful not to force her. It had to come from her how she wanted to be handled. I didn’t trust her to do with her as I pleased. I think she would have used it against me, even though it would have given her immense pleasure. I wanted to give myself to her completely. I love you she said. Only in the moment.I didn’t want to meet the husband M had ridiculed often when she was with him.
I pitied the man who had insurmountable problems and had a wife who said that he had raped women in his sleep. It scared me to think what his wife and his in-laws said about me. I was happy not to have to cope with my inane in laws. One day I would have to thank my wife for separating me from them.
my wife counted on what she saw as my inability to cope with pressure to get an advantage and she most certainly had gained it, going as far as to say to me after the ordeal that she thought that I thrived under pressure.
My wife has been wearing her ovoid sun glasses indoors and recently doesn’t even enter my domicile when she picks up our daughter.
I felt M wanted me to live with her eventually and to pay more attention to
her and her daughter than to my daughter. I was going to make sure that
even though M had bewitched me I was not going to ejaculate near her vagina.
M called me a misogynist. It was the beginning of the end that didn’t have much of a middle.
M changed her mind to write her novel in the first person.
I love you, M said. I love you. I love you. I want to set up house with you.
I wanted to see who she would end up with and for how long because it certainly wasn’t going to be me. It would have been possible had she deferred to my rules. It was the only way she was far too unstable,

M said that she mistrusted women. She was someone who was capable of not  believing in anything, even motherhood. It wasn’t that I hated M. It was that she reminded me of myself and I hated myself here and there. She was dependent on AA and I was dependent on pharmaceuticals.
I grabbed M by the neck. I wasn’t able to fuck her unless I owned my fear.
Do you want to hurt me, M said. You can hurt me. You can’t hurt me for real.
Her husband had raped her in her sleep.

M placed ice on her boobs and neck, the heat was overbearing.