Memory of a gay lover

I once slept with a gay man. He hadn't come out yet. I think that I was some sort of experiment. It was the only time I'd been with a man who never came. Odd. Many years, maybe 20 years, I saw him at a Thai restaurant. He was fussy about the table they seated him at, in that fussy way that older gay bachelors can be. I did not say hello. He begrudgingly loaned me his prize book about Alice in Wonderland (a clue?) and I never returned it. So, when I think of John, I think of my shame in keeping his book. Now my exhusband probably has it somewhere. He's a great collector of all things material.