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I revisit the earlier conversation that almost derailed great sex. I brush her hair from her face.
“If one of us changes our mind on anything, the instant there’s an inkling of resentment or a shift in attitude or allegiance, we say something.”
“Simple as that?”
My hands on her hips, I pull our naked bodies together.
“Simple as that. If we’re always honest and hide nothing, we’ll avoid guilt trips, martyrdom, or pitfalls. Equal footing. If we feel differently, we say something.”
“With that settled, let’s get all dressed up. I made a reservation at a fancy place.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“I thought it was time for another.” She smiles.
“You know what happens on like date number four or five, right?”
“How much more can we do?” She walks out of the room, and I call after her fantastic ass.
“You’re creative, I’m creative, surely we can come up with something.”
“You get dressed over there and pick me up in half an hour.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
41
Tess
I shove heavenly chilaquiles in my mouth. Much needed after a night of heavy drinking, sex, and little sleep. “You said you didn’t want to be trapped like your dad.”
He nods. “Little heavy for a hungover morning, but I’ll play. I won’t be. No one should give up their entire life, essence, and self to be with someone else.” I see his point, but I’m not sure I totally agree. “My dad has a small life instead of a big one. He worships my mom, but she wanted a small suburban life. She grew up in the public spotlight. Her father was in the House of Lords.”
“Both of your parents are political refugees. You had no hope.”
He says, “I guess not. I can’t imagine compromising for what I believe is my path. Can you imagine completely altering your life, your job for—”
“For you?” I laugh at him.
“Well, for lack of a better example, yes. Look at Ari and Mikey. They haven’t compromised their careers, and they’re incredibly happy.”
“I get the notion Ari’s a bit lonely, and Mikey’s tired of flying cross-continental.”
He says, “Did they say something?” Mikey did. I won’t break his trust.
“Just a feeling. I couldn’t give up writing to live their life instead of my own.”
“But…” He kisses my hand.
“But.”
He smiles, and his voice gets vulnerable, “To find someone on their own path to move forward together.” He kisses my hand.
We have yet to define us, but he’s talking parallel lives intersecting for the good stuff. I don’t hate it. I’m still nervous, what’s on the other side of this vacation. His schedule slows. Mine does not. We have no plan beyond tomorrow. Do I fly back to LA to see him when I have breaks? Before, it was finding a free moment to be together, and now, we’re choosing time. A busboy glances at my chest, Alex growls at him, and I laugh.
“Did you write growing up?”
“No. I started when my mom got sick. A shrink told me to take out my anxiety, fear, and hope on paper. Whenever I felt overwhelmed or lonely, I should write.”
