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She’s right about that.
“Besides,” she continues, “You were worried about a boring-ever-after with Adam. This solves that problem. You’ve got a free pass to get all the kinky sex you want. Bright side?”
I just about choke on my tongue as I shoot her my best effort at an evil eye.
The fact that I bitched about our sex life being repetitive and vanilla one time, not long after we got engaged, feels like forever ago. Things were so much simpler then.
“I certainly did not refer to my relationship as a boring ever after.”
“It’s what you meant, though,” she says, then takes a long sip.
I’ve just spewed a long monologue at her with all my feelings about Adam’s hall pass idea, including telling her about the vibrator incident and the crying myself to sleep, and him turning his head away when I tried to slip him the tongue. How I can’t even make a dirty joke around him these days. How I feel like a sexual deviant. How he barely even looks at me and when he does, I know he doesn’t see me. I told her I look at him sometimes and get a big burst of affection, but I’m afraid to show it to him and get rejected. I’m feeling like the maid more than the fiancée.
As mortifying as it was to spill all that, I feel a little lighter, like I needed to get it out. Alannah has always been here for me, but I’ve been clammed up about life in general since the last several months have been so overwhelming.
“And it’ll let him know if he can handle it, too,” she adds.
“Yep. If I actually did go through with it, which I’m still not sure I could ever… it might be okay with me, but it might not actually be okay with him after all.”
“Mm,” she agrees, taking a sip.
“I mean… I don’t even think I can,” I whisper. “That’s not me. A hall pass. An unemotional hookup. Like… what?” I laugh.
She doesn’t laugh. “This could be a good place to sample your potential future,” she jerks her chin toward the space at large.
I scrunch up my nose.
She wiggles her blonde eyebrows.
“Not tonight,” I say.
“Tonight,” she corrects. “It’s perfect. He’s not expecting you home tonight, so…”
I scoff. “As if I can go from planning a lifetime of commitment to one man, a man who had his whole life blown apart, to fucking a stranger I meet in a bar just like that?” I snap my fingers. “I know it’s too much to ask that he factor intimacy into our relationship with all he’s gone through, but I can’t help but wish–”
“That he’d still wanna rock your world? Of course. And it’s not too much to ask, Chlo. This didn’t just happen. It’s been over half a year.”
“I don’t just need mind-blowing orgasms, Lan. I can get by for now with hand-holding and cuddling. Forehead kisses and for him to look at me like… like I’m more than his caregiver. He’s needed my help so much that I know it’s changed the way he looks at me.”
“You poor thing. Hate to say this, but Chloe… maybe it’s better if you do this and he decides he can’t live with it. Or if you do this and you decide it’s time to move on. On your own.”
“Don’t say that,” I breathe. “I love him. He didn’t deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve me abandoning him. Seven months isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things.”
“Babe.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “No, he didn’t deserve to lose the use of his legs. But, you’re loyal to a fault. Not a lot of girls would even hesitate before taking him up on his offer. In fact, a lot of girls might not have stuck around. I don’t know if I could’ve.”
“He’s Adam,” I say, feeling protective over him. “Everyone loves him.”
He’s a good guy. He’s the first person to help someone in a crisis. He’s funny and fun to be around. He’s competitive in a sporty way and the type to encourage others to do their best. A cheerleader and motivator. He was a good boyfriend before all this pulled the rug out from under him. He didn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of it. I’m about to choke up. I push it away.
“And,” I add, “His penis isn’t a sex organ anymore. He has to catheterize multiple times a day. He doesn’t have any sensation in it, doesn’t have any urges whatsoever. He does a daily routine to train his bowels to empty at the same time every day, but he has to wear an adult diaper, Alannah, just in case.”
She winces. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
Everything below the waist is a chore for him. Moving his body without controlling his lower extremities. He even had to deal with colostomy bags in the early days of recovery.
“I’ve been feeling so guilty for the past three weeks about pulling out that vibrator. I’m such an asshole.”
“You’re not,” she tells me, jiggling my hand. “It’s been hundreds of days, Chlo. Your life has been on hold. You’ve lived and breathed for him for all this time. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting handholding and forehead kisses and to be told your ass looks great today, which it does.”
