We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog to bring you some harsh reality. Ok, so perhaps there was no regularly scheduled blog because there wasn’t an update in a long while. I was notified that my little dalliances were a bit too close for comfort and I got a bit self-conscious. But anyhow…let me ask you a question, those few that were very out there, what is better: to be loved, to be trusted, or to be respected? If you could pick just one thing, which would you want of those three? I guess I would just prefer to get any one of them. I wouldn’t mind which one.

It’s said that people put such stock in each other and they use and abuse each other. I guess that’s why I’m so enamored with the Asian cultures. I see how community oriented they are, how family oriented. In this day and age, most people will say “I’ll do anything for my brother” but they will be thinking, “As long as it isn’t too much trouble.” Me, for myself, I would really do anything for my family and those precious few that I consider my friends. So many times I would be willing to go two to two with the world to stand beside me friends. I give them the respect, compassion, and courtesy that I wish they would give me. So often I have been let down by these same very people. They haven’t done this on purpose, however. I will allow that they are only human and humanity (how sad) can only be what humanity is. Selfish and greedy. But then, doesn’t that make me the same way??? Hell, at least I can say I try and a lot of times I agonize over decisions that might put another person out. What can I say about my friends?

Here’s what I say: I had one friend, we had been friends for a long time. Close, laughed together and cried together. Shared secrets and humiliations. He was my first love and I would gladly announce that to anyone that would listen. I would shout it from the rooftops. Whenever he talked he would mention how he missed me and wanted to be with me. He agreed that he loved me. I would joke about him dating other women and he all but assured me that there was no one but me. I wouldn’t begrudge him if there were. He was my love and I’m sure that someone else would have seen the same charms that I had. Surely they would…And they did. I found out from a mutual friend that he was expecting a baby. And it wasn’t divine conception either. He couldn’t even tell me. He had to let me hear from someone else. When he finally did get around to telling me he mentioned how he was going to do the right thing and marry her. Did he love her? No, but he was doing the right thing. I asked him how was it right to marry a girl out of obligation and not love? I am still awaiting that answer.

I had one friend, we were dating. I had been hurt before, physically and emotionally. My head was never in the right place and I was scared and scarred. I didn’t want to go to fast or too far. I wanted things to be right, to be lasting. I wanted to make sure that this relationship wasn’t just a fly by night thing. I paced things, I nurtured them. I didn’t want blind devotion or sexual fire. I just wanted love, respect, admiration. He told me things weren’t going fast enough for him. He wanted more…time, more cuddles, more kisses. I tried to explain that I had been hurt and it was hard for me to trust. He needed to outlast my fears. Couldn’t he do that if he really liked me as he said he did? Apparently he couldn’t. He’s also going to be a dad and he’s marrying her because he doesn’t want his kid to grow up with a broken family. Does anyone ever marry for love anymore? Or is that blasé?

I had another friend who felt times immortal clock ticking. We emailed constantly and he advised that he met a girl on Match.com and “she was as good as any”. He married her after six months and while on vacation. He stopped emailing me after I told him that I didn’t think marrying someone because “you didn’t think you were going to find someone else” was a really good reason to tie the knot. Blunt but true. Because I owe my friends honesty.

I have another friend that’s so afraid of losing his past that he won’t submit to the future.

I have another friend that keeps me around for an occasional good time.

I have another friend that bemoans his losses and whines for his misses.

I have a dog now and a hamster. My poor cat, Dora, is now deceased and I hope to God that the afterlife is full of green grass, sunny windows, and little balls with bells to roll around. These are my friends, the innocents whose motives are ruled not by their fears or their greed but by their devotion. You see, I know what motivates my Heavyn. She knows I will feed her, I will keep her safe, I will clean her and care for her. And she loves me for that simple reason. The hamster? She knows that it’s my hand that brings the food, my hand that removes her to give her a daily romp outside of the acrylic confines. And she loves me for that. These are my friends. The rest of you can screw off!

I stared, disheartened, at the laptop lying on the bedside table. Through the small crack left between the lid and the keyboard I could see a faint luminescence and it’s fan’s hummed. I had no idea how I was going to reconcile things with Robert. Not only had I left his “invitation” hanging but I had disappeared to boot. I had had enough good sense to put myself in invisible mode before dashing out the door and I could perhaps play it as having connectivity problems. I didn’t have much hope that saying that I wasn’t able to get back online would be an adequate excuse however.

Carefully I eased into bed and pulled the warm laptop onto my lap. I had taken a shower and tried to steel myself for the mental battle ahead. My decorum with Robert had been shameful to say the least. And even though I continued to “blow him off” in numerous ways I still held some interest for him. I didn’t want to break things off with him, especially not now. I didn’t want to resolve anything right now. I just wanted all the problems in my life to just stay still for a moment. Not intensify and surely not dissipate (because in dissipating it would mean that a resolution had been reached and I was sure that resolution would be to my detriment). Just sort of stagnate for a while.

I pulled open the lid. Robert was still online, although he was idle now. It was nearly 11:30 and it was not normal for him to still be online at this time unless he was chatting with someone. But he was idle. Was he waiting on my return? Perhaps he had gone to sleep and simply left the computer on. But for as long as I had known him, he had never been online all night, idle or not. He was as methodical and dependable as an old workhorse. Before bed he always at least logged out of Yahoo. But here he was, idle and waiting sinisterly for my return.

I have GOT to stop thinking along these lines! At this rate, I won’t have to worry about the discomforts of old age. I’ll jump off a steep bridge and end it all before that happens.

Mustering inner fortitude, I switched myself to available…and waited. Five minutes inched by excruciatingly slow. Then ten minutes…Around twelve minutes the suspense finally ate away what patience I had stored up and I typed in a hurried message, “Hello?”

For several minutes I watched the screen intently, waiting for a reply. I hoped there would be one. I hoped there would be none. I hoped the ceiling would come crashing down on me and offer some plausible excuse for me being so damned shady.

The only thing afforded me was a response from Robert, a rather cool, “Welcome back.”

The chill in those words was evident through the screen. It was as if I heard him speak them personally. Welcome back, you charlatan!

“Hey, sorry about the abrupt log off. My PC froze for a while and I had to restart. When I went to log back into Yahoo I couldn’t log on. I figured the service was having a hiccup or something.” I tried to impose a lightness into the weightiness of the conversation.

“Was it your Internet service?” He asked. His words still seemed taught, stretched across a thin veneer of calm. 

“It’s possible. Although all the lights on the modem were blinking like normal. Lately my wireless router has been acting up. I think that might be the culprit.” As long as we were discussing the innocuous topic of Internet connectivity, I was safe. This was a nice safe topic.

“Hmm…what kind do you have?” His inquiry seemed bored to me, like he was just asking out of duty or to be polite.

“A Linksys I think. It was a cheap model. I bought it on the spur of the moment. I guess you get what you pay for in routers, huh?”

“Linksys is a good company. So you were just able to get back online?” There! A hint of suspicion! Things were about to turn dicey, I just knew it.

“Well I’m unsure. I tried to reconnect several times and when I couldn’t I decided to wait a few minutes to see if the service would just reconnect on its on. I fell asleep while I was waiting.” My plan here was to offer some innocent excuse for not attempting to get back online sooner. Oh see, dear! I just fell asleep while waiting on the nasty old Internet to right itself. Heaven’s NO! I WASN’T avoiding you!

“Hmm.” Was his response. It was cold and unconvincing. He wasn’t convinced. And he believed that I had been avoiding him. Damn, this wasn’t going to end well, was it?

“Hmm? Something the matter?” I asked, still trying to portray that innocent victim.

There was a long pause and then a flurry of typing. After a while, the following message appeared: “Well it just seems like I asked if you wanted to hang out and then you disappeared without a word. You say you couldn’t connect and then you fell asleep and I guess I have to believe you because I don’t see why you would lie about it. But you know my number. You could have called. Instead you just fell asleep and left me sort of hanging, although I could tell you weren’t interested in getting together. The least you could have done was called.”

I didn’t know immediately what to say to that. If I was painting the picture of an innocent, clueless, victim then he was playing the part of the love-struck devotee. He was looking better in this picture. And the wings of innocence on my back were turning into horns and a trident.

“I know, I’m sorry! I thought for sure the service would just pop back on after a little while. It’s happened before. I just laid down for a little bit and closed my eyes. Before I  knew it, it was like 11:00! I was going to call you right when I woke up but I decided to see if I could log on again and I could. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be so callous!” I was throwing myself on his mercy. Robert was, at heart, a good and noble guy. Surely he wouldn’t eviscerate me after I seemed so innocent!

“Yea, I  know…but there’s always an excuse with you. Yes, they are good excuses but they are excuses all the same. It just makes me think that you aren’t interested.”

His words were probably meant to instill some more guilt in me. Perhaps force me to say something more loving and more pleading. And in an ordinary girl, that probably would have worked. In me, however, it had the opposite effect. Instead of reducing me to the place of a groveling penitent, it lit the fuse of a smoldering powder keg.

How dare he question my motives behind not wanting to get together with him?!? Wasn’t he aware of just how difficult it was being a girl in my position? Wasn’t he aware that I was a busy girl that had to juggle friends, a job, and not to mention three guys with dating a man nearly an hour and a half away???? No, he isn’t aware of that. How could he be, if you haven’t told him? Shut up, rational! I don’t want to hear any of your reasonable excuses today! And I didn’t hear any either. Even though I knew that my anger was unjustified, I let it boil in me. Without a moment to compose myself, I let my fingers fly over the keys.

“Unfortunately, life isn’t exactly moving according to the script that I have written up over here. It seems that the ‘shit’ is actually happening as they often say and I have been obliged to cancel a few of our dates. It has been regrettable but unforeseeable. If that hasn’t meshed well with you I shall certainly contact whomever it is making up the ‘Life Script’ and chastise him well for being so flighty!” Before I had even reread my words I stabbed the “Enter” key and sent the message flying across cyberspace to hit Robert like a virtual slap in the face.

As soon as the message popped up on the screen I was aware that it was a bit too confrontational and totally unreasonable. But I couldn’t take it back now. Instead I switched my availability to “Invisible” and sat back to wait for his response. It came within moments after my apparent departure.

“I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. I just wanted to show you how it felt, you know? I really do want to spend some time with you and I get frustrated when I don’t get that time.”

After he sent the message Yahoo would have undoubtedly informed him that I was no longer. I was equally sure that he would realize that I was either pretending to be offline or that I had left in a huff of anger. Either way, he was aware that this absence certainly had nothing to do with connectivity problems.

I waited for him to say something else. Surely he knew that I was just sitting here while the last impotent vapors of anger dissipated?

Instead of another chat message, the phone rang in the other room. The sound was preternaturally loud in the quiet of the apartment. I went out and glanced at the caller ID. Yep, it was Robert. He wasn’t going to wait for my anger to blow over and was going for the more personal approach of calling. I debated just ignoring the call but instead I answered it with a cool, “Hello?”

“Hello. I figured you were angry and probably wouldn’t log on again tonight so I had better at least call and try to pull my foot out of my mouth.” He said.

“Mm-hmm.” I answered, still frosty although my anger was quickly dying away.

“I don’t know if you saw what I wrote before you went offline but I just wanted to say that I really like you and I hope to spend time with you, a lot of time. I get frustrated when we can’t spend time because I want to get to know you better. I want our relationship to grow…you know?”

I sighed. Robert was a good guy and he deserved so much better than me. In the wake of my anger was a tidal wave of shame. What was this guy doing tied up with the likes of me???

“Robert, I know. I like you too and I wish that we could spend more time together. It’s just that the only times we can spend together have been the weekends and as it happens some major life events have transpired to keep us apart.” Readily I remembered the dates I had broken due to “the flu” and “family emergencies” and “dog difficulties”. I had used nearly every excuse except the death of my grandmother and obscure religious holiday’s precluding travel.

“I know, long distance things are tough but I think if both parties are willing to work at it they can work. But there has to be equal amounts of willingness. Are you willing?”

That was the twenty million-dollar question. Are you willing? It translated into ‘are you interested?’ What was my answer? I forced myself to ignore the stigma of awkward silences and to think hard and long…ARE YOU INTERESTED???

I awoke a short time later. I thought I had been asleep for quite a while and I panicked at the thought. I couldn’t see the clock from where I was lying. I glanced over at Cole. He was sleeping soundly. For a moment I was indecisive. Should I just roll back over and go to sleep? James would be wondering where I was. Depending on the time he might have already left for work. Where was my cell phone? I had left it in my coat pocket but when Cole had “gingerly” undressed me he had thrown my removed articles of clothing to the floor and I worried that the phone may have slipped from the pocket. Where were my car keys? Where were my pants???

Softly I slid from the bed. Cole sighed deeply and rolled over. I was silent for a while, wondering if he would awaken. I would have welcomed it as I would have some help locating my errant clothing. But it was apparent that my leaving the bed had had little effect on his sleep as he slumbered on soundly. Blindly I rummaged around the floor, locating first my pants (with panties still stuck in them, thank goodness for small miracles) and slipped them on. I also found my shirt. I navigated around the bed blindly, my hands outstretched before me. I located my coat and was briefly reassured when I felt the familiar heft of the car keys in one of the pockets. My cell phone, however, was missing. I groped along the edge of the carpet, assuming it had slipped out somewhere. After five minutes I was unable to locate it and was uncertain of my next step. I didn’t want to just leave it here and come back for it at another time. My contact with Cole was sporadic, at best, and I wasn’t too certain when I would get another opportunity to come back. Then again, I also didn’t want to wake him. I stood over him for a moment, waffling back and forth. Finally I leaned over and gently touched his back.

“Cole?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice gentle and low.
“Huh…wha?” His head raised and he glanced over at me.
“Uh, do you know where my cell phone is?” I asked, a bit embarrassed. It seemed rather cheap of me. Hey, I’m about to cut out but I can’t find my bra, panties, or left sock. Can you help me out???

He mumbled and incredulously reached over and pulled the phone from the nightstand. He must have spotted it when he had left the room earlier to grab a glass of water and had set it on the nightstand. I accepted it gladly.

“Go back to sleep.” I gently urged and turned to leave.
“You leaving?” He asked.

For a moment I wondered if he wanted me to stay. Could I stay? Well I could stay but was that what was expected of me? I was hard pressed to put a title to the relationship Cole and I shared. Were we to that stage where I could stay overnight and have no “implications” attributed to it?

“Yea, I’m leaving.” I said softly. There were too many thoughts whirling through my mind. It was easier to just leave.

“Ok…” He rolled over and went to sleep. Simple enough. 

I made my way back to the car. It was surprisingly easy. I made barely a sound as I closed the door firmly behind me and started the car. The dashboard lights lit up and I discovered it was just past 11 p.m. James would have already left for work. As I waited for the car to warm a bit, I checked the cell phone’s LCD. Two missed calls and a text message. I was pretty sure they were both from James. I scrolled through the menu. Only one call was from James, however. The other was from Aaron. The text message was also from James. I didn’t check the message. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to hear his confusion over how it was that he had awoken and his “girlfriend” was no where to be found. Would there be any confusion? Was I his girlfriend???

Whatever calm my night with Cole had afforded me was fast eroding as the problems I faced crowded back in. I threw the car in gear and backed from the drive dangerously fast. It was as if I were trying to escape the thoughts that dogged at the heals of my mind. I tried not to dwell on those damning thoughts as I drove home but the fact that one of the missed calls was from Aaron troubled me. What would I say to him? I had to call him back, right? Or did I? I could elect to ignore him, say I didn’t get the call or whatever. But wouldn’t it seem like bad form that after I had spent that one heated night with him I then neglect to call and even offer a goodbye before he left town? It would smack of avoidance. And I didn’t want him to feel that I was avoiding him. I didn’t want my guilt to spill over into my love for him…although I feared it had already done just that.

I was home all too soon without a resolution to my dilemma over whether to call Aaron or not. The house was dark, James having locked the dog in her kennel before he left. She sniffed and wiggled excitedly as I moved over to let her out. She bounded at me as soon as the door was open, leaping excitedly at my feet and nipping at my hands. I shooed her away and moved into the living room. What did I do? I had to call him, that was obvious. And James too. Not to mention Robert…

I groaned. I didn’t want to deal with any of this. While my time with Cole had been therapeutic in some way it had not really solved the underlying problems of my guilt and how to go forth from now on. As I sat there, the cell phone turning over and over in my hands, the phone vibrated. I glanced down. Another text message from James. I clicked on the message. Dude, where are you? I didn’t attribute anything to the request. He wanted to know where I had gone and that was natural for even a roommate waking up and finding the other mysteriously gone. What do I tell him?

I hurriedly typed a message to James, I went over a friend’s for a little while. I’m home now. And sent it without thinking too much about it. One problem was abated, if not absolutely solved. Now on to Aaron. I had to handle the problems sequentially, one at a time, in order of their importance. I figured that I would play the matter by ear and dialed his number. My heart beat with trepidation as I waited for the call to connect and listened to the phone ring. My hope, my prayer, was that he wouldn’t answer. Normally he didn’t when I called.

Fate is cruel, did I mention that?

He answered on the third ring.

“Hey!” He sounded excited and happy. Oh damn! What the hell am I going to say to him??? “What are you up to?”

“Uh, I just got up from a nap.” Just a tiny white lie. I had, after all, been asleep.

“Yea, you needed a nap after last night!” he answered with a gruff chuckle. Reference to how much sex we had had? Was it really that bad?

“Haha…yea, right!” I forced a laugh and hoped it sounded natural. “So what are you doing?”

“We’re at the bar. Had the last seminar tonight. There’s nothing actually scheduled for tomorrow and we can do a bit of sightseeing before we leave tomorrow. Wanted to see what you wanted to do?”

“What I wanted to do?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Yea, you want to see me off?” He asked. He was still excited. Probably the drinking he was doing.

“Uh…yea, of course!” I said, although I didn’t hear any enthusiasm in my voice. I wonder if he heard it.

“Great! Hey, you wouldn’t want to come down now, would you? We’re just going to do some drinking but I would love it if you could come down.” He hadn’t heard how un-enthused I was about coming to “see him off”. And he wanted me to come back down there tonight???

“Oh…tonight?” Damn it! I didn’t want to go down there. Not only was the drive nearly half an hour in length and I just didn’t feel like undertaking it, I was still battling with that guilt. I was at a loss as to what to say.

“Yea, I didn’t think you wanted to make the trip. You said it was pretty far for you.” He answered for me. Relief washed through me.

“Well, not really long…”

“Yea, I know. It’s no big deal. So what time you want to meet up tomorrow? Our train doesn’t leave until 3. We have to be out of the hotel by 11. I thought we could grab some lunch and perhaps do some sightseeing?”

“Yea, that sounds good.” I could not, for the life of me, think of anything worthy of sightseeing in Milwaukee. Supposedly it was a historic city. What the hell was so historic about it?
“So you want to meet at say, 11? Justin will be with us, is that alright?”

“Sure, that sounds good. No problem. I’ll see you at about 11 then?”

“Ok. Give me a call when you’re here and we’ll just come right out. Well I’ll let you get back to sleep. If you are up a little later you can give me a call but you sound pretty out of it.” OH boy, you didn’t know the half of it!

“Yea, I’m pretty beat. It was an exciting night!”

“Yep! A good exciting! Well see you soon. Love you!”

“Uh…love you too.” The phone went dead and I was left sitting there with a rapidly beating heart and a ton of guilt bearing down on me. I didn’t want to go meet up with him tomorrow. I was afraid my guilt would make the meeting awkward and too regimented. I also was in no shape to talk to him about my feelings. I was afraid that he would be angry with me. I hadn’t really disclosed completely my relationship with James. I thought it was well implied but implications are often misread. Now, I desperately needed some way of getting out of it.

Add that problem to the end of the stack. Now on to Robert…

For a while, the cacophony in my head had let up as I finally settled on a resolution. It seemed obvious what I must do. I needed to talk to someone, to get everything out in the open. A reasonable and rational discussion with someone would be just what I needed to abate my guilt. I was unsure if that was what I would get from New Guy but he had been the one that had offered and I was too desperate to refuse it.

The drive to his home had settled me and I was reasonably calm as I stepped up to the side door and opened it. As always, his house was quiet and dim. I called out hesitantly and he appeared from another room, holding a beer, his face unreadable. He held the beer to me and I took it wordlessly, taking a deep swig of the sour brew. Moving behind me, he ushered me towards the bedroom and I obeyed passively. I wasn’t in the mood for sex but if this was the form of comfort he was offering then I would take it. I had few options left to me and the calm he exhibited was soothing my rattled nerves.

In the darkened bedroom, he took my coat and helped me remove my shoes. I was as pliant as a baby, clutching the beer like a baby’s bottle and taking tiny sips here and there. He took the beer from me, realizing that I wasn’t going to drink it, and set it on the dresser. He pulled down the comforter and ushered me beneath it, still dressed in my sweatshirt and pajamas. He was also dressed in his track pants and a T-shirt as he followed me under the coverlet. Firmly he pulled me towards him and encircled me in an embrace.

“Now, what’s the matter?” He finally asked. It was the first words he had spoken. They were firm and authoritive, like a father speaking to his distraught daughter. 

It took little coaxing for me to spill my guts regarding the entire affair with Aaron. I was finally able to relay those feelings of guilt and remorse. But also the love that I had felt and the sadness. I even mentioned, in few words, my fear of pregnancy but I didn’t give it much import. There were greater matters to discuss. And when I had finally finished I sat there, spent, deflated as if all that pent up emotion had been used and I was now just a shell collapsed against his solid body.

He had listened quietly, once in a while giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. At one part my eyes swelled and tears spilled from my eyes. He laid his head comfortingly against my back and waited patiently for my tears to subside and for me to continue. Now that I was done I awaited his response. And that response was anything then what I had expected. 

“I never knew that you had this…this…love!” He finally whispered. His tone was as if he were amazed, and sort of in awe.

“I’ve loved Aaron for years. Even while I was with other guys he was never far from my thoughts. Even though I am hundreds of miles away, my love for him endures. I had given up on having a life with him, though. And I was trying so damned hard to get over him. But I never completely have!”

 “And you won’t!” New Guy…Cole uttered. “You shouldn’t have to! You should try to make it work. Go back to Michigan!”

I laughed cynically, a bitter sound. “And do what?” I asked harshly. “There’s nothing for me there. No job, no home…” It was my guilt fueling these bitter words. 

“But there’s your family! And Aaron! I’m sure you’ll be able to work it out.” Cole continued, and his voice was so excited. As if he actually believed the words he was speaking.

His excitement was curious to me. He seemed almost happy for me. But I was unsure what there was to be so happy about. He was happy that I had this love, such a pure and innocent love (his words almost exactly) and he was certain that such a love would conquer all. 

“Cole!” I laughed, this time a bit softer. “I’m too old to believe in true love conquering all! There are too many obstacles! Perhaps I’m just a bit too naïve!”

No matter how much I longed for his words of the conquering powers of true love to be actual, I was too much a pessimist to believe them part and parcel. Especially since I had no proof of true love actually conquering anything. Bitterly I related my experiences with this “love” he was so excited about. I related tales of ex-boyfriends who had abused me. Of Ex-boyfriends who had cheated on me. I related tales of being hurt time and time again. Angrily I mentioned that I didn’t believe there was such a thing as true love and that all we ever got in this life was to settle. Settle for someone that wouldn’t drive you completely insane. 

But Cole kept shaking his head. “Oh no!” He said after I had finished my bitter diatribe. “You have it, with Aaron! All you have to do is work at it. Of course it won’t be easy, but what do they always say? Nothing worth having is easy!”

I am unsure why it was that I didn’t join in his excitement for me. Perhaps my guilt was too strong for me to rejoice in the “pure and innocent” love that I had for Aaron. Perhaps I was still thinking of my earlier moments with James. What happened to James if I pursued this true love with Aaron? What happened to our love then? But was it actual love that James and I had? So often I had debated that in my head. So often that I had finally just dropped the matter without an answer. I would never know if the stoic “I love you’s” that James handed out like a man on his way to the gallows were true or if they were given just to pacify me. 

Whatever the reason, I didn’t smile happily and clutch a pillow to my bosom in a drop dead swoon of excitement and hope like those sappy Hallmark Channel movies of love and hope. As fervently as he tried to convince me that my love with Aaron was something worth cherishing and fighting for I tried to debunk his claims. No! This wasn’t for me! This “love” was…it wasn’t what he made it out to be!

Eventually our conversation turned. He had the radio on and we sat and listened to sappy songs, each of them poignantly defining my damning state of mind. At one point a song came on that reminded him of a bygone love and we grew silent as I realized he was reminiscing, perhaps bitterly, of that love. As I sat quietly listening to the strains of the music, I pondered the strangeness of the conversation I was having with him. It was the most serious discussion he and I had ever had. We had been in bed for well over an hour and he had not once tried to fondle me. I mentioned it to him and he laughed saying, “no, that’s not what you need right now and I don’t really want it”. I sat and thought about him, about the real him, and not the façade that he portrayed through Yahoo and our sexual encounters. 

I started to see him as human and not just some sexually-starved creature. Remarkably I started to see him as…my friend. Yes, I had called him a friend many a time but I don’t think I ever really believed he actually was a friend. Friends did stuff with each other, besides under the blanket wrestling. Friends confided secrets to each other and helped each other through jams. That was something that I hadn’t done with him. Our conversations had never much strayed from sexually-themed topics. But perhaps that was not through his fault but mine as well. I never quite trusted him and I certainly never used him for more than just a sexual plaything.

I was ashamed. Because here he was, listening really well, a wealth of opinions and understanding and I had never really known that. In the years that I had known him I had never once inquired into his human-ness. I had never delved deeper into his psyche. Oftentimes I was too afraid to question him about his life outside of our sexual encounters. Too afraid that he wouldn’t want to talk about that with someone who was just a sex toy. Too afraid that my over-inquisitiveness might put him off. But also, I hadn’t really cared to ask. No matter how rotten that sounded, that was the honest truth. I had never really cared to find out more about him. I had “crushed” on him because he had been incredibly cute and extremely talented sexually but had not for one moment glanced beyond that physical package to see him.

 Oh what a lout I was! This man here, this man comforting me and trying to renew my hope in love was a good man. And I had only seen the most superficial parts of him.

And here was another brick to lay on the tower of guilt that had erected in my subconscious. Just stack it alongside the brick that was placed when I had unceremoniously cut out on my conversation with Robert earlier and beside my image of James reaching out for me. Yep, we shall call it the ‘I just realized that Cole is a really good guy’ brick. Slap it on down.

 “Oh!” I moaned as the figurative weight of that brick was placed.

“What?” He asked. Sometime during the night he had removed his shirt and my head was lying on his bare chest. I could hear his heartbeat so strong. His arm was around my shoulder, holding me close against him. I was so comfortable there with him. When had this happened? When had my unease and nervousness about him abated? How was it that I was sitting here in bed with him, so intimately, but not afraid that our embrace would turn sexual? To any casual observer, we would seem like two lovers embraced after a night of lovemaking but they would have been so far from the truth. The actuality was almost comic in its innocence. 

And our conversation! It was a conversation I had never had with a guy! Instead of scoffing at my love for Aaron, he had actually been overjoyed! He had reveled in it just as I would have (if I wasn’t so consumed by guilt, that is). He hadn’t given my thoughts of cheating on James one ounce of credence and instead concentrated on the matter of the most importance which was my tender love for Aaron. In short: the conversation had been the most inspired and the most tender I had had in a long while.

In that moment I was so attracted to him! It was crazy, here I was wracking my brain over the handling of a sordid love triangle and I could feel myself getting weak-kneed and moist between the legs for this guy who hadn’t made on sexual overture. He had been a perfect gentleman but oh man how I wanted him at that moment. Instead of showing any restraint, I rolled on top of him and kissed him. It was a hungry kiss, fueled by my attraction for him, my amazement at him, and also my frustration and anger with myself. 

He returned the kiss in kind, crushing my lithe body against his. It didn’t take much before we were pealing at each other’s clothes. I was nude beside him in a matter of moments as he traced an eager path down my sweaty body with his wandering hands. I tugged at his track pants. He had them tied at the waist and in the darkness I was unable to work the knot. He obliged me, however, undoing the pants and kicking them off.

Our lovemaking that night held a new fervor to me. It was hungry and insistent. It was as if we both were eager to satiate some part of our selves. We pulled and clung at each other. My nails traced a trail down his back as he rolled atop me and kissed me so eagerly that it nearly bruised my lips. He forced a knee between my legs, parting them effortlessly. I was unsure where this was going. I expected him to end the kiss and move down to place a kiss on the wet mound between my legs. I wouldn’t have been disappointed but at that time I just wanted him inside me and didn’t care if I was orally pleased or not.

But he didn’t end the kiss. He positioned himself atop me and pushed his throbbing penis inside me. It was such an unexpected move! I gasped as he plunged deep inside me. My hips rose to meet him voluntarily and I clung to him, daring him to go as deep as he could. He obliged, pushing hard, thrusting deep. He made love to me with abandon almost, different from the usual times where he would tease just at the entrance but never really probe deep within me. This time he explored, he delved deep. This time, we made love.

All too soon he pulled away, ripping out of me so cruelly that I feared something was wrong. He rolled away, leaving me gasping breathlessly and somewhat confused. He rolled to the other side of the bed and laughed huskily. 

“What?” I finally gasped. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry…” he whispered through his laughter. “I couldn’t hold it in this time!”

“What?” And I was genuinely confused. What was he saying? Couldn’t hold what in? My mind raced over the words. Couldn’t hold what in?

He laughed on his side of the bed. “Normally I can control it better but for some reason I just couldn’t hold it in!”

And then it clicked. He’d cum! I scooted up on one arm. In all our sexual exploits Cole had never actually had a release. He had claimed he had come close but never actually released. It was a fact that left me feeling a bit ashamed because I always got some sort of release while he was left wanting and horny. But tonight was different! He had cum! WHERE had he cum??? That thought sent me sitting bolt upright. Oh GODDESS! Please, PLEASE say he had been able to at least pull out before he had cum!

He laughed as he watched me and pulled me against him. My legs slid out beneath me and a toe caught the edge of a wet spot on the bed. Relief welled through me as I let my foot slide across the wetness. It was ejaculate, that I was certain of. The stain was too big to have just been my own sexual juices. He had been able to pull out in time to cum harmlessly on the bed sheets. Good! One panicked pregnancy scare was enough for one weekend!

I nestled against him and closed my eyes as I listened to his breathing subside. Eventually his breathing steadied to a smooth deep rhythm and I realized he had fallen asleep. I relaxed against him and was soon asleep as well.

I’m not sure how long I remained in such a state, reduced to a quivering, sniveling bundle of emotions. The dog had been awakened by my sudden flurry of movement and now sat raptly staring at me, her brown eyes registering something akin to concern. I pushed away her probing nose as she attempted to sniff and identify the tears coursing down my face. Eventually the tears subsided and I just sat there, in the dark, knees pulled up to my chin, and staring at the darkened walls of the room.

My head throbbed and I believed my new bout of waterworks had probably hindered whatever help my sleep and two pain relievers had afforded me. I didn’t care. The headache was the least of my worries at this point.

The sound of the phone ringing ripped me from the bed. Wildly I flew into the living room and snatched up the phone from the cradle. I didn’t want to awaken James. I didn’t want him to see me in the state I was in and then question what had brought me to that point. I realized only too late that by pulling the cordless device from its receiver, I had inadvertently answered the call. Disheartened and believing it to be Robert I glanced down at the caller ID as a tiny voice called from the phone, “Hello?”

The number and name were private and as such I couldn’t puzzle out who was on the other end. Aware that it was too late now to punch the disconnect button I hesitantly put the phone to my ear and retreated back into the bedroom.

“Hello?” I said suspiciously. My voice caught in my parched throat and the word came out as little more then a squawk.

“Hello? Evie…?” The caller, incredibly, wasn’t Robert (a good thing). It was New Guy!

It was the last person I had expected to get a phone call from. Having known each other for years we had at one time exchanged phone numbers but our sole method of communication had continued to be through chat messages (a point I had lamented on several occasions). I didn’t even know his phone number, having at one time or another deleted it from my cell phone and never having the guts to ask again. The fact that he remembered my number or had it saved somewhere was amazing.

“Evie?” He repeated and there was a strange note to his voice.
“Cole?” His name was so strange to my lips. I realized that I never really said his name much. When we talked I never specifically identified him and when I thought of him in my head I never put a name to his face. He was forever just ‘New Guy’ to me.

“Are you alright?” He asked and I identified the strange tone in his voice. Concern? Wait, let me think about it some more! His question had been calm and it hadn’t been very warm and endearing but never the less there was no denying that underlying tone. Was he concerned for me?

“Uh…” I couldn’t get a grasp on my thoughts. And without my thoughts I couldn’t form an intelligent response. Yes, we had known each other for a while and yes, there had to be something about me that must have endeared me to him or he wouldn’t have continued to put up with my flightiness. But even in the midst of my crushes for him, I never dreamed he actually cared for me. But wouldn’t concern be a logical response from someone that cared for you? Cared for me? Cared for me beyond just a piece of ass? Was that conceivable?

“Evie? Are you alright?” He asked again, and this time the tone was unmistakable.

“Why?” And I was genuinely incredulous. My mind leapt at his words and ripped them apart like a starving tiger being thrown a tiny tender morsel of meat.

“Why? Well all of a sudden we were chatting and then you were gone. Did I say something wrong?”

Wait, wait, WAIT! This wasn’t right! There had been tons of times when we had, the both of us, signed off Yahoo so abruptly without never a “fair the well” to the other. Times when we both just wandered away from the computer, often in mid-conversation with never a word of explanation. It was something that was regrettable but understandable of two supposedly busy people whose sole relationship subsisted on instant messages. So what had been different today?

“Uh…I’m…fine.” My words were faint. I was still trying to rationalize the call and was so preoccupied that I couldn’t actually participate in the conversation itself.

“You seem distant. What’s the matter?”

What’s the matter? Of all the people in the world…Robert, James, even Aaron…YOU are the last person I expected to be asking me “what’s the matter”! When the very fabric of my sanity was unraveling around me, New Guy…no Cole…was the last person I expected to toss me a life preserver. But here he was. Not Robert, not James, New…Cole calling me and asking me what was the matter.

I suppose the world really does offer surprises every day. Fancy that…

“Uh…it’s just…” And that was all I could say before the tears started again. Gods curse whoever decided that women should be so damned sentimental! Curse you! I didn’t want to cry on the phone with Cole of all people. This wasn’t a side I wanted to show to him. Me and Cole were, well we were buddies, like drinking buddies or poker buddies that you slept with. Not really Christmas card and Sunday Brunch close but chums, pals. And you didn’t open up and pour out heartfelt secrets to pals.

And yet it had been me earlier who had wanted to relay my heartfelt moments with Aaron to him. Yea, but that was different.

“Evie? What’s wrong? What’s the matter? Do you need to talk or something?” Now he was almost frantic. If I hadn’t been expecting his call he certainly was expecting me to be crying! Pull yourself together, damn it!

I tried to take a deep breath but it came as a shuddering sob. I knew he was on the other end of the line and perhaps wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. I climbed back into bed, the phone clutched to my ear and scooted into a corner, trying to hide even though he couldn’t actually see me. I tried to keep the heavy sobs inside but they came out in choked coughs.

“Evie…?”

“I don’t know. I guess everything is wrong!” I finally wailed. It didn’t make any sense but to hell with it! None of it really made any sense. I didn’t want to confide in him, I wasn’t sure of his motives but then again, he was the only person there. When you were losing your mind can you really question where salvation comes from?

“What do you mean? Do you want to talk about it? Do you want to come over?” There was still enough of the cynic in me to realize just how odd his request was. Normally he asked if I wanted to come over and give him a blow job, now he wants to lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on? What would be his reward for this act of chivalry?

But overwhelmingly I just wanted someone to hear me, to listen to me before it all exploded inside me. Truly I felt that the task of keeping all these thoughts in my head and all this emotions under wrap was going to undo me. I felt like a balloon with too much helium, like I was stretched to the seams and ready to pop. I wanted, no, I needed someone to save me from myself and if that happened to be my sexual playmate then I had no recourse but to accept his offer.

And oh goddess how I wanted to accept it!

“Evie…?”

“Yes!” I whispered fervently in the phone. “Oh god I just need to talk to someone or I’m going to explode! Please!”

“You know where I am and the doors always open. Come over.”

I hadn’t spoken to Robert for several days. By it self, that wasn’t unusual. But taken with my overwrought mind, his simple phone call was magnified in my mind. An icy finger of dread traced up my spine. The laptop was still propped against the wall by the back door in its bag. Before returning to the bedroom, I grabbed it and switched off the television. James slumbered on.

I didn’t turn on lights as I settled back into bed. The dog plopped beside me, nestling under the blankets and sighing contentedly as she returned to whatever doggy dream I had summoned her from. I only wished I could lie down so blissfully ignorant. My headache throbbed. I can’t remember a time when I had had a headache this fierce. I could only imagine it was my guilt that had amplified the symptoms.

I booted up the computer and waited as it hummed into life. The house was quiet. Outside the rest of the building groaned and life spun on, unaware of the moral factions at war in my mind. It was a wonder that everyone was so unaware. That the world could continue to spin and hearts continue to beat even amidst the drama that was tearing my mind apart. Of course, I wasn’t the center of the world and I was far too old to even believe that there was a remote possibility that the world’s events would take notice of me. But it would be nice if it did. At least the sky and the weather were muted, as if in recognition of my pain.

I logged into Yahoo and waited as the service booted up. Several names lit up, the friends that were online. Robert’s name was among them but beside his name was a little icon that signified that he was “idle”. Away from his computer. I stared at his name for a while, wondering what I should do and say. I should return his call but I was afraid that my traitorous voice would belie my words. It was easier to face him across the cold impersonal space of cyberspace. I waited, hoping the sound Yahoo made when a friend came online had alerted him to my presence. I waited…Nothing happened. I got no salutation and the sign beside his name continued to register him as idle. With a sigh, I typed a hurried, “Hey there.” It was unenthusiastic. I wondered if he would be able to infer that just from reading the words.

After several moments the idle sign vanished and Robert responded, “hey yourself. How are you?” I thought long and hard about my answer. If I answered that I was fine (the normal response of a person that had nothing substantially the matter) then he would continue the conversation along a line that I was unwilling to cross. I know what had fueled his earlier telephone call and my motives for answering him online had been to dispel any notions. Notions of what? The weekend was the only time me and Robert could really see each other. He lived nearly two hours away and the commute was a bit too hefty to make on the time constraints of a weekday. Our preferred times for going out were weekends, normally Saturday’s or Sunday’s. I imagine he had been online last night, probably looking for me so that he could ask me my plans for the weekend and inquire if there was room on my dance card for him.

There wasn’t. Especially now that my mind was in such a tizzy.

The Net silence continued on. I couldn’t answer that I was fine because when I turned him down for a date the reason wouldn’t be satisfactory. How could I NOT want to go out with him if everything was just fine??? And me saying that I would rather just stay in smacked of someone that wasn’t interested. Lately Robert had been vacillating back and forth between continuing our “relationship” and just cutting me lose. I didn’t want to add fuel to his fires of suspicion. So I should answer that I wasn’t fine. But that would invoke a conversation. What’s the matter? Are you sick??? I was unsure how I would stand up to that scrutiny. There was no way I could tell him the actual cause of my angst. That would surely send him running to the hills. Oh yes, I spent the night with an old flame that I have been in love with for years and now I’m torn between my love for him and the guilt I feel for abandoning the guy that’s been living with me for nearly two years and who just MIGHT actually be my boyfriend. LOL…It’s all really complicated!

Complicated was right. It was too complicated for him to understand. It was almost too complicated for ME to understand.

“Evie?” Robert queried. The silence had lingered on too long.
“Sorry…I’ve got a horrible headache.” I answered. I decided this little bit of honesty would be the best course. Now I knew that a headache was the oldest excuse in the book, used for everything from getting out of sex to getting out of Sunday school. But I was hoping that by not fabricating a more grandiose excuse, the simplicity of this truth would make an impact on him. All very, very complicated.
“Oh? Did you take something for it?” He asked. The normal response from a person learning that their friend had a headache. Grab an aspirin. Take something. And I had taken something. But a plan formed in my mind and I grabbed hold of it before it had fully taken root.

“No, I’m hoping it will just run its course. I grabbed a cup of tea earlier and I’m just sitting here. I’ve had it all day…” No, I hadn’t gotten any tea and the headache had only just materialized several hours earlier, not really all day but he didn’t have to know that.

“I get those too, sometimes. Those all day headaches. They can really knock you back. You should take some aspirin.” He answered. He was pushing the cure-all Tylenol play pretty heavy. But I had a counter!

“I can’t take aspirin. My heart condition…” Ahhh, the old heart condition stand by. I did actually have a heart condition, an arrhythmia that I had had since birth, the effect of a malformed heart valve that while malformed still did the job measurably well. Honestly, however, I didn’t let this little slight slow me down in the least. It had been months and nearly a year since I had taken any prescribed medications for the condition. And years since I had actually taken any advice from my doctors. There was a slew of things I was supposed to watch out for and not do…caffeine, cigarettes, aspirin, high caloric content…the majority of these I didn’t pay one bit of attention to.

But in a pinch, the ole’ heart condition defense ALWAYS panned out. Because it was just serious enough to give a person pause. And it did give him a pause…for about five seconds.

“So you can’t take anything?” He asked. Huh? Normally when hearing about my heart condition people stopped and looked rather uncomfortable. They saw me in a new light. They saw me as this frail little bird that wasn’t capable of sheltering herself from the cruel, cold, rigorous world. And they saw themselves as callous for having introduced me to any modicum of distress. Unable to easily alleviate their discomfort they often dropped whatever conversation that had led them to this distressing disclosure. It was my trump card. Normally people didn’t question my defense. I have a heart condition, I can’t take aspirin had worked on so many occasions and the normal response was that people would look at me with these “oh you poor dear” eyes and sigh sadly. NEVER did they question it.

“So you can’t take anything?”

The very question was ludicrous to me. I have a heart condition! Wasn’t that enough explanation???

Of course it wasn’t! The rational thing was for a person to wonder if there were other pain remedies I could imbibe if aspirin was off limits. His question was rational and reasonable. Unfortunately, no one had ever answered rationally and reasonably. Normally they just let the matter lie. So here I was, ill-equipped to answer that simple query.

“Well I can take Ibuprofen…” I stammered. Now I seemed petulant, even put out. At least, that’s how I felt. “But I sometimes feel that we over-medicate ourselves here in the US. Popping a pill every time we get a slight ache or pain.” I tried to salvage the excuse but my words seemed so lame to my eyes. My figurative ship was sinking.

“I agree with you there. But in cases where you have a real need, I don’t see it as a problem.”

Was he arguing with me? No, of course not. He was just pointing out a specific fact. It was perfectly normal for a person to take a few aspirin if they had a headache. Hell, I had taken a few aspirin for less then that. But the fact still remained that he was refuting my logic. And my logic was my excuse to get out of a date. He couldn’t refute that…could he? Oh this was ridiculous!

“Well I take enough medications without worrying about the effects of a painkiller on top of it.” There! Ok, so I didn’t take any medications but I was supposed to be taking them. Surely that had to count for something.

“So I guess you wouldn’t be up to some company today. Even if the company came bearing gifts of hot chocolate and a sappy old movie?” 

Here was the real test. The gauntlet had been thrown. I knew he was gearing up to ask if we could go out. I had been setting the stage to decline his invitation and even though I was expecting it, I was still rattled by it. I stared at that sentence intently. I picked apart the words and analyzed the man behind the screen that had typed them. The first part seemed rather cynical. So I guess you wouldn’t be up to some company today…it almost sounded as if he sneered when he wrote it. Probably thinking to himself, Yea, of course she isn’t up for a date. She’s blowing me off like normal. But that second part…even if the company came bearing gifts of hot chocolate and a sappy old movie…that part seemed hopeful. Like even through his pessimism he was trying to keep up hope.

If he had just responded with his cynical “so I guess you wouldn’t be up to some company today” I would have been fine. I didn’t respond well to cynicism. It was almost like a challenge to me. Oh yea? No, I’m NOT up to company so what you gonna do about it? But that sappy bit at the end, that slight flicker of hope, that’s what unraveled my convictions. Because while it may seem I’m heartless and unfeeling, that’s not the truth. And that hope that he showed made me feel bad. Oh how can I deny him a little hope when all he wants is to hang out with me? How can I be so heartless. It’s my fault that I’m feeling so abysmally. How can I take it out on him?

But the truth of the matter was I that I was feeling horribly. My head throbbed and my mind was so choked with moral issues and theoretical debates that I had no doubt I would be lousy company for Robert if I did relent and go out with him. And would a lousy date be better than no date? Wouldn’t I fare worse if I seemed moody and preoccupied rather then just begging off? Surely that was reasonable?

I had to stick to my convictions. I wouldn’t go out, I just wouldn’t…

As I argued seemingly endlessly, another name lit up on my Yahoo Friend’s list: New Guy. My heart took a leap but this time it was a good leap. I had wanted someone to converse with, I had wanted someone to confide my secret rendezvous with Aaron to and I had been hard-pressed for confidantes. New Guy, however, was always open to listening to my romantic achievements. He eagerly listened to juicy tidbits about my sex life. And while that was rather odd in my opinion I was desperate to get some of the guilt out and I fancied by relaying the tale to someone else it would abate somewhat.

Hastily I typed a message to him, “Hey, you got a moment?” And anxiously I awaited his response. It was quick. “For you, beautiful, anything. Let me grab a beer and I’ll be right back.”

Without wasting a moment my fingers raced over the keyboard. I typed out the bare bones fact of our encounter, aware of Yahoo’s limits on message size, and eager to get the most significant facts out first. When I finally pressed enter, the message filled the two-inch chat window completely.

It was as if I had run a marathon. My heart pounded and my breath came in ragged gasps as I waited. I imagined how long it would take for him to grab a beer, perhaps a glass (if he were fastidious), saunter back over to his chair, and peruse the message displayed before him. I imagined his eyes widening as he read the message. The chat window for Robert lit up as he sent me another message. I hadn’t responded to his question and at the moment I wasn’t caring. I just needed this moment, I needed to get this all out. I waited, the minutes seemed to stretch and time elongated. I glared at the screen, the image burned on my retinues. Everyone else forgotten as I waited for New Guy’s response.

Finally the screen lit up. Wow, he wrote. Did you get your fill? Capped off with a winky smiley face. Huh? I reread the response. It was a rational thing for him to ask. Here I was, relating a sexual escapade to him and it seemed for all the world that I was bragging. I reread my initial communiqué and that’s the impression I got from it. Hey, guess what? I spent one wild and crazy night with a guy I haven’t seen in nearly four years and we fucked nearly five times! It was wild, let me tell ya! I hadn’t had the space to relay my feelings of angst, I had planned on adding those in later after I got his initial response.

And I hadn’t communicated my guilt.

Yahoo’s really bad at conveying emotions properly. So while I had wanted to put a romantic spin on this one night with Aaron and perhaps get some romantic responses from New Guy, it had come off as a boast on my sexual prowess. Heh heh HEH…lookie what I just did! And his response only served to sully up the matter. He had responded in kind. Yea, you did! I hope you had fun, girl friend! And there, in the frame of mind I was in, that was all I really needed to tip the scales. Yes, the night HAD been tawdry. It had been sullied, I had been sullied. It had been adulterous and scandalous. Yes, I DID have a boyfriend here at home, one that had waited patiently for me to come home and had welcomed me with open arms and a chaste kiss. And here I was, plotting on how to ditch a date with another guy not to solidify my love for that same boyfriend but because I was trying to reconcile my guilt. I was the worst kind of low. I was an ADULTERER! I was a WHORE! I was SCUM!

I pushed the laptop away, violently slamming down the lid and scooting away from it like it were on fire. My head throbbed painfully. And in my mind, the words marched round and round. Adulterer, whore, scum…adulterer, whore, scum…adulterer, whore, scum…I imagined myself as a little girl, curled in a dark room in a ball as people that were impossibly tall marched around me, accusatory fingers pointed at me, chanting those words….adulterer, whore, scum…Some rational part of my mind tried to put an end to the torture. It tried to reason with me. Evie, it said, get a grip! Your overwrought and your emotions are running away with you! Calm down and think reasonably. But those damning words drowned out the reason. I could hear the chimes as chat messages went unanswered. I didn’t care. I clutched my head and tears sprang to my eyes.

Unfortunately, my shower did little to refresh and rejuvenate me. I stepped from the steaming tub with new resolve however. I wouldn’t live with this guilt. I would march up to James and tell him…something. That part I wasn’t all too sure about. All I knew was that I needed to alleviate some of this guilt before it consumed me body and soul. I toweled off and threw a bathrobe on.

James was lying on the couch. The remote in hand, he was flipping through the channels. As I stepped into the living room he dropped the remote on the couch beside him and held his hands out to me, beckoning me to come and sit with him. Immediately I was uncomfortable. I had been expecting him to be asleep or for him to at least ignore me but here he was, happily reaching to me like a blissfully unaware boyfriend. The thought was distasteful in my mind. Boyfriend? For months he had fought against that term. He hadn’t wanted it to be used because ‘boyfriend’ implied that our relationship had ,at some level, a seriousness of commitment. James didn’t want “commitment”. He wanted things to be at ease. He wanted relaxation and little responsibilities. He already had enough responsibilities with his mess of a relationship with Tony.

But here he was, reaching to me so eagerly….stop it! I was reading too much into this. I allowed myself to be pulled against him and he squeezed me again slightly.

“Missed you.” He said with a sigh.

Those were the two worst words he could have said. He could have said, “hate you” and I wouldn’t have thought him any worse. He could have said, “glad to see you” or “you smell good” or even “what’s with you” and I would have been prepared to deal with it. But miss you? What the hell was I supposed to say to that? All along I had been telling myself that James didn’t really care. That he didn’t have the feelings for me that I wanted and that I had harbored for him. But here he was, telling me he missed me and I had been only gone a day? That didn’t sit with my rational of a guy that had few feelings for me.

I sat rigidly against him as he did his best to snuggle up to me. He wasn’t much for snuggling and I could tell that my unresponsiveness wasn’t making his task any easier. No matter how much I wanted to relax and live in the moment, the guilt kept at me and I was unable to just be comfortable in his embrace. Finally he pulled away and glanced up at me.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, seeming hurt.
“Nothing.” I said, a bit too quickly. I kept my head averted, staring at the TV a bit too intently.
“Why don’t you want to cuddle with me?” He asked.

Ok…this was odd. James was not a snuggler and definitely not a cuddler. The fact that he was trying to meant one of two things: A) He had done something bad or possibly ruinous to my inner calm and he was trying to soften the blow before it fell or B) He had realized where I was last night, and with whom, and was actually scared of losing me. But it made no sense to me! If he had realized what I was doing last night, wouldn’t that elate him? Surely he must realize that if I found someone else to spend my time with, someone who would be willing to give me all those minor details that affected a serious relationship then he would be off the hook. Wasn’t that what he had wanted?

Or was it really what he wanted? I was forced to think about my assumptions (that James wanted me to dote on someone else) and examine where they had come from. There had been a conversation, so far back that I can’t recall the contexts of the conversation or why we were having it. I had been bemoaning the fact that he and I weren’t as close as most couples and he had said something to the affect that he hadn’t really wanted to be a couple and that he thought I should perhaps look for a guy that wanted what I wanted….or something to that effect. The words were all garbled in my mind and I couldn’t recall his exact words. But it HAD been something along the lines of “date someone else cause I don’t want a serious relationship right now”.

But as fervently as I wanted to believe this claim now, in the face of how sweet he was being, it just didn’t hold water. The guilt in my mind magnified his attempts at cuddling and turned them into a full-fledged sentimental moment. And if here he was, engrossed in a sentimental moment, then there I sat, engrossed in the guilt of being an ADULTER.

A shiver went through me as the word materialized in my mind. James drew back and scooted up on one elbow to stare at me.

“Are you cold?” he asked with a hint of concern.

I shook my head. No, I wasn’t cold. I was a whore! Oh Goddess! I was an ADULTERER! I was…cheating…on my boyfriend! No, he isn’t really your boyfriend, he doesn’t want to be! The tiny voice in my mind kept trying to pull me away from the guilt but it was too late, I was drowned in it. Over and over the word flashed in my mind like a gaudy neon sign outside a burlesque house. ADULTERER, adulterer, adulterer…! All the sadness at leaving Aaron was replaced now with this overbearing feeling of guilt.

I would much rather preferred the sorrow.

I sat rigid beside him, my hands clasping and unclasping in my lap, the strains of a headache pounding away in my head. The noises in the room were too loud, it was too warm, it was too bright. I wanted to escape. But it wasn’t the confines of the room that I wanted to get away from. It was my overactive mind.

“Why don’t you go and get in the bed?” I heard my mouth say before my mind had fully grasped the reasons behind the suggestion. I wanted him to leave so that the catalyst of my guilt would be removed. I wanted him gone.

“I’m alright. I actually got quite a bit of sleep at work last night so I’m not all that tired. So what’s up?” His tone was still casual but my heightened and over-reactive mind inserted the suspicions where there were none.

“Oh it’s nothing. I’m just tired. I think I’ll go and lie down for a while.” And I stood so quickly that his hand fell off my lap were it had been resting.

“I’ll come lie with you.” He grabbed at the remote to silence the TV.
“No, no! You finish watching…” and I glanced at the TV to see what he was watching. It was on commercial however and I wasn’t particular sure what it was that he had been watching. “…Whatever it was you were watching.”

I strode into the bedroom and flopped into the bed. My head ached but I didn’t want to risk going back into the other room to get an aspirin. I lay there, face down on the bedspread, listening to the blood rushing past my ears. The dog had followed me and she was standing above my head, sniffing at my prone body, perhaps wondering what game I was playing and how she could join. I batted her cold nose away from my ears and tried to push her away but she continued to sniff, my complaints only adding to the fun of the game. Finally I settled on grabbing a pillow and ducking my head under it to escape the dogs curiosity. Of course, this only made her more excited.

Under the pillow my thoughts could take center stage and they all revolved around the thought that I was cheating on James. I was a cold-hearted bitch of an adulterer. All I could think of was how sweet he had looked holding his hands out to me, asking me to cuddle with him. And here I was, fresh from a midnight rendezvous with some guy…

…No! Not some guy! It was Aaron. My Aaron. My rescue hero, my love…not just some guy. Charlatan! Harlot! Whore! Not even the sweet love that I had for Aaron could keep my brutal thoughts from branding me with the black badges of shame. My head throbbed and my ears burned as the blood rushed to my head.

Tears obscured my eyes as I drove. That damnable song refused to leave my head. It played in rounds, over and over, the words sometimes mish-mashing together to form a cacophony of sentimental prose. The drive was uneventful, with few cars on the road. I tried to keep my eyes clear, more in case other drivers glanced over and noticed me, then due to the driving hazard that tear-clouded eyes presented. By the time I pulled into the gravel-lined parking lot my eyes were dry but my head was pounding with a full-blown headache that had followed my descent into sorrow. Clutching my overnight bag, I trudged across the dew-wet lawn and entered the apartment through the back door.

The house was quiet. James had obviously worked the night before and was probably passed out trying desperately to catch up on the sleep he lost out on. As the door creaked open, a flash of white shot from the living room as my dog ran up to greet me, tail wagging and barking happily.

“Shhh!” I admonished her but she hadn’t seen me in over a day and her excitement was unrivaled. She leapt at me, pawing at my legs and trying to lick at my face. I pushed her off irritably and glanced over and towards the living room. A figure was sprawled on the couch. James shifted and glanced back with a tired smile.

“Hey!” He said with a yawn.

“Hey.” I answered, not enthused. I didn’t really want to talk to him and I hoped mightily that he would just go back to sleep. He didn’t. He pulled himself off the couch and padded barefoot over to me. He was dressed in a faded T-shirt and track pants, probably owing to the fact that he had been awakened by the dog more then once to take her outside.

I busied myself with hanging up my coat, trying to keep my reddened face hidden. He came up behind me and pressed my shoulders in some sort of pseudo-hug.

“I didn’t expect you home until later.” He said groggily, then padded over to use the toilet.

Within my chest my heartbeats sped up. A snake of guilt slithered through me. I had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, I tried to reassure myself. He had on numerous occasions bade me go out and find someone new, someone who would be what I wanted. My rendezvous with Aaron was nothing to be ashamed of. But as he began to prattle away about how the dog and cat had missed me, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart. Like Poe’s story, The Tell-Tale Heart, I felt he could hear each incriminating beat. With a start I realized that I hadn’t actually showered after me and Aaron’s last romp and I suddenly felt disgusted that I had come before him still sullied by another man’s touch.

It was ludicrous! I hammered into my head. James wouldn’t care. He wanted me to find someone else! He WANTED me to let him go! But had those been his actual words? Guilt ate away at me. I turned towards the shower, suddenly paranoid. I needed to get the smell of Aaron off of me. I needed to get the stink of guilt off. Had those actually been his words??? Had he actually said, “Go out and fuck someone else, I don’t give two shits”? No, those hadn’t been his words. Icy cold dread crept up my spine. Behind me James had stopped at the sink and was watching me curiously.

“Is something wrong?” He asked suddenly. The words shot through my revelries. I suddenly realized how odd I must appear to him, nervously moving from doorway to shower like some sneak with something to hide. I whirled around to face him, hoping the look on my face was that of tired but happy woman home from a night of feminine wiles.

“I’m just tired. You know how Mary is…a big ball of excitement. I got almost no sleep.” I said with a laugh. “I just need a nap.”

He watched me for a moment while the room filled with warm steam from the shower. I could feel the dampness of the water on my back and it mixed with the cold sweat of guilt and worry that was creeping down my neck.

“What did you guys do?” He asked and the question itself was innocent. His tone was innocent. But my mind was whirling and the guilt was gnawing at me like a dog at a rib bone. And while his question was seemingly innocent, my mind expanded it and turned it into a query of accusation. Yes, Evelyn…what DID you do?

“We watched some movies, had a few drinks, talked unendingly about men and how we hated them.” I said, trying so desperately to keep my tone light. I realized my hands had begun to wander, a sure sign of my nervousness, and I busied them with pinning up my hair.

James laughed as he gave me room at the sink to busy myself with my toiletries.

“So you had a good time?” he asked, looking at me through the mirror. I took a look at those honest, innocent gray eyes and I could feel my reserves of strength and fortitude (whatever that was left after the guilt had thoroughly ate away at it) crumble. I quickly looked down, feigning a search for a bobby pin that had fallen into the sink.

“Yea, I had a good time. Glad to be home though.” I said, and to my ears my voice seemed unnatural.

“Good.” James said with a note of finality. He planted a chaste kiss on my cheek before turning to return to the couch and his slumber. The dog slouched down on the bath rug before the tub to watch me.

I finished pinning my hair and turned towards the shower. I couldn’t say why I was feeling this way. I had never felt this much guilt, even with all my dalliances with New Guy. Yes, initially there had been some guilt but it had quickly dissipated under the solid reasoning that I wasn’t getting my needs fulfilled with James and even James was aware of that. Now here I was, fresh from a night with the one person in the world I would actually lay down my life for and I felt like nothing more then a cheap harlot home from a night of harlotry.

I stepped into the shower and let the hot water scald me, hoping to singe away the guilt that was tearing me up and turning my fond memories of my night with Aaron into lasciviousness. I didn’t want to feel guilt about this night with Aaron. I didn’t want to feel bad about it. I wanted to recall it with fond sadness and pull it around me like a warm security blanket. I wanted to recount it with my closest friend in the world and, together, delight in the wonderousness of actual true love. 

But James was my best friend and I just couldn’t impart this to him. I just…couldn’t. Although I knew he wouldn’t judge me (he was far too good a person for that) and he wouldn’t chide me or even raise his voice I somehow knew that the knowledge of what I had done would hurt. It would hurt more then knowledge of my flings with New Guy and my chaste dates with Robert. It would hurt because there were actual concrete feelings behind my night with Aaron. Feelings that had lasted years. Not just the lusty feelings I felt for New Guy or my lukewarm emotions towards Robert. These were actual, all encompassing, true to form, feelings. This was LOVE in all its glory; capitalized, underlined, italicized, and boldfaced.

But why would this love hurt James? Or would James be the one that would be hurt? Goddess but I wished I could put the whole thing out of mind but that’s not the way this girl’s mind worked. When trouble loomed I grasped that bull by the horns and held on, pulling it this way and that, letting it drag me to every corner of the arena. I thought out problems to the minutest of details, examining them from every angle, worrying it even if it bothered the hell out of me. And so I would do with this.

Why couldn’t I just waltz into the living room and say, “Yo James guess where I really was last night???” without the slightest bit of remorse? Was I more afraid of hurting his feelings or more afraid of losing the last tendrils of a relationship that I had with him?

Ahhh, therein lies the crux! There it was, ha ha! The REAL reason I hadn’t told James about any of my “extracurricular” dates. I was afraid of losing him. No matter what our problems had been and how insurmountable our obstacles, I was still holding on to him like some cheap carnival trinket being held by a dowdy spinster for the purposes of reminding her of her bygone youth. This fact disgusts me.

I can’t believe I’m holding on to him like that! I can’t believe I’m too worried of losing him to relate the fact that, yes, I HAVE moved on.

But there was no denying the truth of my thoughts. There was no denying the evidence that screamed the truth at me. I stepped from the shower, dripping water on the patiently waiting dog, and turned to face the personification of my guilt.

I sat bolt upright in bed as the last echoes of the knock still reverberated through the room. I glanced at the doorknob and my heart sped up. The knock came again, a bit more insistent and Aaron sat up beside me, pulling the sheet over the both of us. I grabbed it and clutched it up to my breast, trying my best to look as innocent as I could and put a virginal spin to what obviously appeared to be a carnally motivated scene.

“Who is it?” Aaron called out.
“Housekeeping!” A voice responded.

Beside me Aaron visibly relaxed. “Uh, we don’t need any. Come back later!”

We waited for a moment, straining to hear any noise from the other side of the door. After a while we heard a muted knock at the door of the room next to us and the same voice calling out, “Housekeeping.” I sighed and let the sheet fall into my lap. Aaron laughed beside me and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me down beside him. He kissed me playfully, tugging at my ear and pinching my nipples, sending me into fits of giggling. He was artfully trying to maneuver me into position under him, perhaps ready for another romp between the sheets when, beside us, the bedside nightstand began to buzz.

We both stopped, craning our necks to look over at the small table. Aaron’s cell phone shook angrily and buzzed across the table. For a moment, Aaron appeared to be locked in an inner struggle, should I answer it or should I ignore it, but seemed to decide against the former. With a sigh he rolled away from me and snatched the phone from the table just as its angry vibrating led it perceptively close to the table’s edge. He took a glance at the phone’s screen before flipping it open.

“Hey!…Yea…Yea, yea, I know…Yea, no problem. Ok, see you then.” He flicked the phone closed and sat staring at it for a moment.

In my chest my heart flopped and the import of his look pierced me through. Our time was at its end.

“Uh, that was Justin…we are supposed to be going to a seminar in about half an hour. He’s down in the lobby…called to make sure I was still coming.” He glanced up at me and I tried, MIGHTILY I did try!, to keep my face calm and still. “I have to go, you see? We are both supposed to be there.” His voice was apologetic.

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “I knew I had to be up and out early. Besides I didn’t plan on leaving my dog for this long! I’d better go and take another shower.” I leapt from the bed, keeping my face turned away and hurried to the bathroom as I felt the hot pinpricks of tears at the corners of my eyes.

“Hey, I’ll join you!” He ventured, dropping his phone on the bed and moving to cut off my escape route.

“No, don’t worry about it!” I said, grabbing that the bathroom door, keeping my face studiously averted so he wouldn’t see the wetness welling in my eyes.

“But why…?” He began but I cut him off.
“You know there will be very little showering getting done if you are in there with me!” I said, trying to laugh but the sound that escaped my trembling lips was more like a rasping cough.

“Where’s the harm in that?” He said and I could hear the sly smile that must have parted his lips in his tone.

“We don’t have time for that, Aaron! You have to get moving and so do I!” I said, a bit more harshly then I wanted. I just wanted to forestall him so that I could enter the comparative privacy of the bathroom with the solid oak door between us.

Aaron didn’t move to follow me as I closed the door. After a moment, I turned to lock the door before switching on the shower. As soon as the beads of water began to pummel the tub’s porcelain interior I crumpled to the floor, the beginnings of a sob tearing through my body. It exploded from my unwilling lips, a shuddering cry that burned my throat in its fierceness. I sobbed openly, trying to keep the noises to a minimum and hoping that the shower covered the sounds of my pain.

I didn’t want to leave. This night was so short and I just didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want it to end. I felt it was unfair that it had to end. It had been so perfect! How could it end like this? So anti-climatic! Was I supposed to just waltz out to my car with a brave smile plastered on my face and drive away as if everything was all on the up and up??? How was I supposed to do that? Why should I be forced to do that??? Oh fate, you are a cruel mistress!

Locked in the bathroom, I cried bitterly and heavily, tears streaking down my face. I cried like I hadn’t cried in ages, with no regard to my outward appearance or the spectacle I was making. I let the grief wash over me and envelop me. I gave in to the sorrow I was feeling. For several long moments I sat on the tiled floor, a towel wrapped haphazardly around me, and cried.

Finally the tears died down and I allowed some modicum of control to creep back in. I pulled myself up and glanced in the foggy mirror. Even given the steam that obscured its view I was able to see the pained look in my eyes and the redness that heralded my crying. I wiped crudely at my face and then splashed a bit of cold water across it, hoping the shock of the icy water would freeze away the tortured look. When I felt that I was able to return to Aaron’s side, I turned off the shower and opened the bathroom door.

The room was quiet. Aaron sat on the bed, staring at the darkened TV. He didn’t turn when I entered the room.

“You’d better grab a shower if you don’t want to go to your seminar smelling like sex!” I said with a false note of cheeriness that only served to make my words seem irregular and high-pitched.

“Yea.” He answered simply, but there was a gruffness to the word. He stood and marched past me. Before he was able to get to the door I reached out to him and grabbed his arm. He glanced down at me and I could see a faint watering of his eyes. He too was sad and trying just as bravely to keep a calm demeanor.

When I saw those tears at the corners of his eyes I folded and again the tears over-spilled my eyes. Without a word he pulled me to him and I collapsed against his chest. We stood there, silent except for my choking sobs. He held me close, rubbing my back and gently rocking me, not saying a word. He really didn’t need to.

By the time this crying spell was over I felt the first tinges of a headache coming on. I was making myself sick, a saying my mother used to use when I was a girl throwing a temper tantrum. Stop your crying, you’ll make yourself sick! I pulled away from him and wiped at my eyes. I looked up at him and his eyes were wet and red.

“God…Evie…” He muttered and I hurriedly shook my head. Oh please don’t say anything! I moaned to myself. I can’t take any more crying!

As if hearing my wordless plea, he turned and headed for the bathroom. It was like a funeral pall fell over the room. I listened as the shower turned on and waited for several seconds before turning to my overnight bag in the corner. Silently and with tears still spilling down my face I dressed. My fingers trembled and every so often a sob would try to work its way out but I forced it back down. I stood before the dresser mirror and arranged my hair, trying to pay no attention to the redness of my eyes. I tried to put a stony look on my face but it mutated into a look of tortured pain as the tears continued to flow.

Behind me the shower cut as I was packing the last of my things into the overnight bag. Aaron returned to the bedroom and turned to the rooms only closet. He pulled out a pair of jeans. I kept my back to him but I could feel him as he dressed. I sat on a chair by the window, staring out at the gray day. At my feet was my overnight bag. I was ready…all that was left was to say goodbye.

I still had my back to him when there was another knock at the door. Again my breath quickened and my heartbeat sped up.

“Who is it?” Aaron called behind me.
“Justin.” His partner called from the other side of the door. He must have known that I was probably still there and didn’t want to barge in on us. How…considerate. I struggled with the tears.

Aaron moved to open the door. I continued to stare out the window, trying to get my emotions under control. I didn’t want to face Justin with a face full of tears like some overwrought female. Justin and Aaron chatted for a while, both of them doing their best not to mention me sitting silent in my chair. I think Aaron must have known what a state I was in and Justin was probably just too embarrassed to say anything. From my vantage I could just make out the clock on the bedside table. It was nearing 11:30…Aaron’s seminar would be starting. It was time to go…with a choked sigh I stood up and turned. I tried to smile as I faced the two men. Aaron’s face was unreadable. Justin was smiling but even his smile seemed forced. The pall of the room had suffocated even him in its sadness.

“Well I guess it’s time to go!” I said, trying to laugh easily. But the laugh got stuck and I could feel the tears straining at my composure.

“Yea…I’ll walk you to your car.” Aaron said, his voice somber.

As I was headed for the door a light went on in my head and for a moment the sadness was swept away.

“Wait!” I cried out, almost desperately. I dropped the overnight bag I was carrying and rummaged threw it, uprooting socks and a pair of panties in my frenzy. At the very bottom I found what I was searching for: my digital camera. “Uh…Justin? Could you…uh…could you take a picture of me and Aaron?” I asked a bit hesitantly.

One thing I have always remembered about Aaron is that he detested taking pictures but I had been hopeful that I could get one of the two of us on this historic meeting. I was expecting Aaron to say something but he wordlessly nodded and moved over to me. I held the camera out to Justin and was about to ask how Aaron wanted to be positioned but there was no need to. Aaron stepped behind me and encircled my waist with his arms, pulling me close against him. I breathed in his smell, a masculine smell of soap mixed with…I guess it was the scent of a man that it was mixed with. It was his scent, so unmistakable. So characteristic. He lowered his head to rest lightly on my shoulder and I tried to force a smile on my face as Justin centered the camera. He took two pictures, in case he “fudged one up”, and then handed the camera back. I didn’t even give myself the luxury of proofing the pics, I switched the camera off and stuffed it back in the bag.

As we waited on the elevator, the notes of a song floated through my head by some nameless artist. Que Sera, sera…whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see…Que sera, sera.

I clenched my teeth and refused to give in. I tried to think of something witty to say but nothing came. The ride down to the lobby was stony silence.

When I grew up, I fell in love. I asked my sweetheart, what lies ahead…

There was a conference room off to one side with a sign that read “Emergency Medic Seminar” posted outside. Justin turned in that direction but Aaron continued with me towards the glass doors.

Will there be rainbows, day after day? Here’s what my sweetheart said…

The silence followed as we reached the car. Amazingly, my hands were steady as I unlocked the door and tossed my bag onto the passenger seat. My heart thumped wildly and the tears, those damned tears!, finally won out and began to course down my eyes. I stood there for a moment, staring bitterly into the car’s interior. I felt his light touch on my shoulder. Gently he spun me around…

Que Sera, sera…whatever will be, will be! The future’s not ours to see…

He tilted my head up as the tears cascaded down my face, dripping off my chin. He leaned over to place a delicate kiss on my cold lips. The tears rained down on us as he kissed me. I squinted my eyes closed and leaned into him wrapping my arms around his waist. He pulled me into him and in that embrace, in that kiss, I felt just how much hurt he was also going through. It was a kiss that lasted a lifetime…a kiss that told a story. It was a kiss you saw at the end of movies like Casablanca and Gone with the Wind. It was our farewell kiss.

It had to end, although I prayed fervently that it wouldn’t. He pulled away and somehow I found myself in the car. I switched on the engine and a blast of cold air brushed against my face. I watched as he returned to the hotel. He didn’t turn to wave at me or throw a lingering glance. Probably, hopefully, he couldn’t. He kept walking and it was just as good. I don’t think I could have survived another glance at him.

Que Sera, sera…What will be…will be…!

I awoke to the sound of housekeeping in the hallway. Two women chattered away. And then I sat bolt upright as muted sunlight streamed through the window’s closed blinds. It was morning, our night was over. My heart did a somersault and flipped up into my throat. Aaron mumbled next to me and one eye cracked open. I glanced over at him and tried to smile but my smile was rather tremulous. His other eye struggled open and he fumbled with lucidity.

“Wassa matter?” He mumbled.

“It’s morning.” I whispered. He glanced over at the window and then struggled up.

“You hungry?” He asked.

I shook my head as tears sprang to my eyes. I turned away trying to hide the momentary weakness. It was too late. He reached over to me and pulled me against his bare chest.

“I know hon.” He whispered and the tears fell freely. “Don’t think about it.” He continued.

But how could I not think of it. Today was it, our time was at its close. Today, in a few short hours, I would be walking out to my car and driving away. I wouldn’t see Aaron until…until when? I wasn’t even sure when our next meeting would be. Long distance relationships were…unsatisfactory. So this was it. The tears rolled down my eyes and big heavy sobs burst, unwilling, from me.

“Come on…don’t think about it. Let’s go get breakfast!” He tried to be jovial. But there was nothing he could have said that would abate this feeling of despair. It was like I was losing him. “Evie…” He sighed and just held me.

I sobbed openly, holding on to him as if I felt he would dissolve right in front of me. I didn’t want to let him go, I didn’t want to move from this spot less the spell of the night before would be broken and I would discover it was all a dream. It was as if I was leaving him again for the first time. It was like he was moving to Timbuktu or Guam instead of just one state away. But oh that one state!

Eventually my sobs quieted. Aaron sat there, quietly holding me and patting my back, probably unsure of what to say. Really there was nothing he could have said to console me other then, “ok hon, I’ll move here for good.” When the tears dried I realized how silly I must look and wiped at the last few remnants of tears and tried to smile.

“I’m sorry.” I said with a slight laugh. “I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.” I glanced up at him and I could swear there was the glimmer of a tear in his eye.

“I’m sad too.” He answered. “Let me go take a shower and we can go down to breakfast.” He hopped out of bed before I could say anything and strode to the bathroom. When I heard the shower running I jumped from the bed and grabbed my cell phone from the dresser. I waited anxiously as the phone booted up. After a moment I walked away, convinced that James had not left me anymore text messages. But as I was setting it back on the dresser, it vibrated.

I glanced back to see the display light up: 2 messages. Two? I hurriedly thumbed through the menus. The messages were both from the night before and both from James. I glanced at the closed bathroom door before opening the messages. The first, Me and the dog miss you! The second, obviously sent after he didn’t receive a response from his message, See you tomorrow ~James. Me and the dog miss you? What the…??? That was definitely not something James would say. Was he drunk? This sudden show of sensitivity was unlike him. Behind me the shower shut off and the bathroom door opened. I fumbled with the phone but not before he saw me glaring at the screen. 

“Someone calling you again?” He asked, coming up behind me, a towel wrapped inexpertly around his waist.

 “No…just checking some messages.” I snapped the phone shut and turned to his embrace. He pulled me into him and leaned over to kiss me. For a moment I forgot the messages and enjoyed the closeness we were sharing.

Roguishly he began to tug me towards the bed.

“Aaron…you just took a shower!” I said, mockingly pulling away. He smiled coquettishly and continued to tug me towards him. “You’re being naughty!” I said with a laugh.

“We can take a shower together later.” He whispered as he collapsed onto the bed, pulling me behind him. The towel slid from his waist, showing him aroused and ready.

For a moment I thought back to the cell phone and the text messages. Me and the dog miss you…but then Aaron was on top of me, kissing my breasts, one hand rubbing my side, and James and his text messages were forgotten. He kissed each breast tenderly, tugging playfully at the nipples. I gasped and I felt a sudden wetness spring between my legs. His hands roamed down my stomach to rest on my thighs, tenderly he pried my legs apart and his fingers foraged upward to touch the wetness beginning to develop. I gasped as his fingers probed between my legs. 

His kissing became more fervent and his tongue trailed a lazy trail from my breasts to my navel. Tenderly, he kissed the slight depression there and glanced up at me. My eyes were slightly closed, my lips just barely parted as my breath rasped between them. I was trying to squirm away from his questing fingers as they “tickled” me down below. A thrill of pleasure arched through my body. His lips continued their journey until he was kissing the tuft of dark hair between my legs. Again I gasped and arched my back. Eagerly he plunged two fingers inside of me and I moaned. My excitement egged him on. His tongue probed between my legs, joining his eager fingers. I tried to wiggle away but the weight of his body kept me in place. I didn’t know how to react to this type of “servicing”. Of course I had gotten it before from other guys but I couldn’t remember doing this with Aaron. For some reason I felt this was a dirty act, an act between lascivious people.

But as his tongue flicked over my clitoris and a jagged line of pleasure arched through my legs, I had little time to debate my morals. His fingers eagerly worked inside me quickening there pace. His tongue liked at my clitoris, his lips closing around the small mound and sucking greedily. I sucked in a breath. I could feel my excitement building corresponding with the wetness that was seeping between my legs. I again tried to pull away, I didn’t want to finish too quickly. This time I was able to pull away enough to break contact with his lips. He glanced up questioningly.

Eager to scoot away from him and prolong our pleasure, I rose up to greet him crushing his lips into a kiss. I fell into him, pushing him back onto the bed with me on top. I reached between us to cuff his erect penis in one hand and gave it a hard jerk. He groaned against my lips. I lowered myself slowly down his body to let my lips trail over his chest. It was damp, either from the shower or sweat I was unsure. He took two handfuls of my hair, twining his fingers into the curly mass. I continued to lower myself until his trembling organ was just inches from my lips. Seductively quick, my tongue flicked along the length and he gasped and jerked above me. I smiled, a sweet but wicked smile and licked again. This time he moaned and seemed to collapse, resigning himself to my ministrations. Slowly this time I let my tongue work over the length of his penis, starting just above his testicles and licking slowly upward to the head. His penis trembled as blood rushed to the nerves, delivering shivers of pleasure through his body. 

“What do you want?” I whispered. Above me he only groaned. I glanced up. His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted, rasping breaths issued from him. “What do you want?” I asked again, and I shot my tongue out to glance across the length of his manhood. He moaned.

“Don’t tease me!” He finally rasped.

“Don’t tease you?” I repeated with a harsh little giggle. “But why not?” Again my tongue shot out to lick at his penis, an agonizingly quick movement. His fingers wound even tighter in my hair and gently but firmly he began to push me closer to his penis, silently demanding. “Oh? Is this what you want?” I opened my mouth and engulfed his penis in a kiss. Above me he gasped as my lips closed around him. I sucked, earnestly at first and as I felt his excitement mounting, a little harder. Above me, I could hear his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands in my hair twisted, painfully, but I didn’t stop. All I could think of was the pleasure I was giving him. I tried to swallow more of his erect cock, pushing myself to the gagging point as I sucked him into my mouth. Up and down I moved, at one instance breaking the contact to lick the shaft again.

I was unsure how long it lasted. I tried hard to get a reaction from him. His moans became more fervent  and his excitement only made me more excited. 

“Oh baby, please!” He finally pleaded and he pulled me upward.

I landed, impaled on his penis, he slipped effortlessly inside me. With his hands at my hips guided me on top of him, raising me up slightly to let me fall atop him, helping me to ram as much of his penis within me. I rode him, at once recognizing how corny it must appear, me “riding him like a stallion” (where does one come up with these images and WHY am I thinking of it while I’m having sex?). Luckily I was too preoccupied to think of the comic natures of the engagement for long. I grinded against him, trying to have as much of him inside me as I could.  I could feel my climax building but I tried to stave it off. Tried to continue to pleasure as long as I could. It was hopeless though as I felt the first waves of my climax crash over me. As I pitched forward on top of him he dug his nails into my hips and pulled me into him. Within me I could feel his penis jerk and the first hot spurts of his ejaculation. I cried out, heedless of who heard me and he moaned deeply. I collapsed onto him as the last hot spurts of his ejaculation coursed into me. My thin arms encircled his neck as I tried desperately to cling to him, I could feel his heart beating beneath me. The only sounds were the sounds of harried breathing as we both struggled to catch our breaths. For moments we sat there until there was a knock at the door.

I could have ignored that incessant buzzing but the longer it went on the more my mind fixated on it. The phone could only have vibrated for a few seconds but to my over-active mind it seemed like an eternity. I held my breath and listened. Finally it stopped for a moment then issued two short buzzes to indicate that the caller had left a voicemail message. I tried to take my mind off of it. I closed my eyes and snuggled closer to Aaron. But my mind just wouldn’t let the matter go and finally I wiggled to the edge of the bed and fished my pants from the floor. The cell phone was in the back pocket.

“What are you doing?” Aaron asked groggily from his end of the bed.

“My cell phone was ringing.” I said as I pulled the pants onto the bed and riffled through the pockets. I pulled the cell phone free using the beaded charm that I had attached to the end and nervously pushed through the menus to display the missed call menu.

James. My heart sped up a bit and beads of sweat broke out over my face. I had told him that I was going to a girlfriend’s house for the night and he hadn’t been expecting me home so why was he calling? Was something wrong? My mind raced through possible scenarios. Something was wrong with the dog and he needed her pet insurance card. Something was wrong with one of my relatives and, since they didn’t know my cell number, they had called the house looking for me. Or worse yet, my one and only girlfriend had called the house looking for me and now Joel was aware that I wasn’t actually staying the night with her.

Gulp…why should I be nervous? James could care less what I did or who I did it with. He was painfully obtuse, refusing to ask the names of who called me, details about my “outings”, or query me on who I would chat with. He remained distant. My life was my life and he let me live it. He didn’t want a relationship with me and I was free to pursue a relationship elsewhere. So why did I feel so guilty?

I shrugged into a shirt and fished around for my panties amid the clothes strewn on the floor.

“Whatcha’ doin?” Aaron asked again, and this time he propped himself up on one elbow to watch me.

“Uh…” I glanced at the lighted display of my cell phone and then tucked it under the shirt and against my stomach so he couldn’t see that I was still holding it. “I’m going to take a shower. You know me and being clean.” I bounced off the bed and, still cradling the phone against me and padded into the bathroom. I hoped he hadn’t noticed that I had taken it with me. I didn’t want him thinking that I had jumped up from a pleasant rest beside him to check my voicemail messages. How anticlimactic would that have been?

I closed the door and turned on the shower. I let it run for a few seconds, long enough to feel the heat and humidity curl the hairs at the nape of my neck, and then I punched a button on the cell phone to listen to my voicemail messages. Hey Evie, just wanted to check in before I went to bed and see how you were doing. Talk to you later. Bye. My heart thudded. This was so un-James-like. He wasn’t much for talking on the phone and he certainly wasn’t much for “checking in”. For the briefest moment I contemplated the notion of him finding out exactly what I was doing. But almost as soon as the thought had materialized I discredited it. First off, there was no possible way that James would have figured out where I was. He didn’t have enough clues. I was purposely ambiguous when I had told him of my plans to be away for the night. And James, poor sweet, innocent, saint-like James, was not much for asking questions. My life was my own…that was part of the problem.

Secondly, even if I had told him that I was holed up with a guy having wild, crazy sex, I doubt he would do more then raise an eyebrow and chuckle. He wouldn’t believe me and, more importantly, he wouldn’t allow himself to care. James kept his feelings carefully secreted away behind a mask of impassivity. If I was having some dalliances on the side, he would probably thank me and say that it was best that I find someone else. That was another of our problems.

I sat there, with the hot water blasting away in the shower and the steam rising, and contemplated what I should do. Should I call him back? He said he was going to bed but I knew that he was probably at work. Instead of calling him I sent him a text message, Having a good time. See you tomorrow. Eve. Satisfied, I snapped the cell phone closed and stepped into the shower. Realizing that I had spent quite a while in the bathroom I kept the shower short. Just as I was turning off the water I heard the sound of a hundred angry bees and watched the cell phone jiggle across the tiled counter.

I toweled myself off and grabbed the phone with slippery wet fingers. I flipped it open and read the message: What are you doing? To my over anxious mind, the question seemed more an accusation. Why did he care what I was doing? Did he suspect something? But why did I care if he suspected something? He had, more or less, told me to go out and date someone else. He wanted me to find someone else to occupy my endless time, or at least that’s what I thought. Why should I feel guilty? I wasn’t cheating on him…I was doing exactly as he wanted.

But if I were doing what he wanted, why was my heart pounding so hard? If I truly felt that my actions were not wrong, why did my fingers tremble as I held the phone?

NO! I didn’t want to turn this night into something tawdry. This was my one and only night with Aaron and I didn’t want to mess it up! Yet, so far, I had had two moments where my mind threatened to ruin it all and here I was again. Was I purposely over analyzing things just to spoil this? Was my mind trying to sabotage this?

What are you doing?

What would I tell him? I couldn’t tell him the truth…or could I? Why couldn’t I? He had told me before that he wouldn’t stand in the way of my happiness. He had said, so magnanimously, that if I wanted to date other people he wouldn’t stand in my way. So why didn’t I just come right out and tell him what I was doing? That I was happy.

What are you doing?

Why? Because I knew this stolen moment was just that: a moment. Aaron would go back to Michigan and I would stay here and on those cold, lonely nights all I would have would be James. And even though he was a poor substitute for the love I felt for Aaron, he would be all that stood between me and screaming lunacy. I didn’t want to ruin that.

What are you doing?...Watching some movies, complaining about men. That was a normal answer, something that was easy to believe. Without waiting for a response I pushed the power button on the phone, watching as the exit screens scrolled past and it beeped softly. Then I threw open the bathroom door, steam flowing out into the cool room beyond, and stepped into the darkened bedroom.

Aaron was on the bed, his head propped on one elbow and a light blanket thrown nonchalantly over his legs. In that moment he appeared to me a model from an Abercrombie ad. Sweat beaded his body and he wore that cocky smile as he reached out to me. My heart melted and, letting the towel drop around my ankles, I stepped over to him and allowed him to pull me into the bed and the circle of his arms. He kissed my damp neck lightly and breathed in the smell of the hotels fragrant soap.

 “What took you so long?” He murmured into my neck.

“I wanted to be especially clean for you.” I answered.

“So we can get dirtier later?” He asked mischievously and he nipped at my neck.

“Are you actually saying you’re up for another bout?” I asked incredulously.  He laughed as an answer. “I thought so.”

 Instead of another “bout” we turned on TV and watched reruns of M.A.S.H. And then Cops. We watched TV well into the night, both of us naked and lying close together. It was so natural, the fold of my body against his. It wasn’t sexual after a while, just natural. I didn’t want that night to last. I wanted it to linger on and on. I fought sleep as it tried to wrap me in its heavy embrace. It was a battle that I was destined to lose.

Despite Aaron’s reassuring words, I still found it hard to keep the niggling pregnancy thoughts out of my head. On one hand I was absolutely ecstatic (though I tried to keep that bubbling glow of hope to a minimum) that there was a possibility that I could have gotten pregnant. And who better to have conceived with then the love of my life??? It was like a fairytale. Of course fairytales don’t take into account the costs of living, of healthcare, of daycare, of food and clothing. And that’s when the feeling of elation went sour. Having a baby right now was NOT convenient. I was barely making a meager living on my own, how could I throw a baby into that equation? My dog was weeks late on her yearly vaccinations; I couldn’t take the same laisse-faire attitude with a child. And Aaron? I glanced over at him. He was describing some emergency call he had gotten where they had showed up at the scene of a car accident and the man’s pants had been around his ankles and the woman had been caught in a rather…compromising…position (talk about embarrassing!). No, he wasn’t ready for children and now was not a good time to spring it on him. Hey, love guess what? Remember that one wild night of sexual abandon? You know, the first time we had done anything in years?? Well guess what, I’m PREGNANT! What were the odds? No, I didn’t see that as going well.

I tried not to sour the mood and tried mightily to keep my answers light and airy as I discoursed with him. Hopefully I succeeded. Back at the hotel, we stopped at the bar to order some drinks before going back up to the room. A before bed nightcap, we joked. I ordered a classic rum and coke, which I nursed for nearly an hour. He ordered one beer…and then another…and then one more. Within an hour he had drank three beers while I was still polishing off one watery rum and coke. For a moment I thought distastefully that he was a lush. Then I banished the thought from mind. Where was the harm in him having a few cold ones? After all, we were at his hotel and there was no worry that he would pass out or anything. But I had never remembered Aaron as being a heavy drinker. Could there be something behind his thirst? Perhaps the pregnancy scare was hitting him harder then I imagined?

Without wanting to, my mind grabbed onto that idea and ran with it. Perhaps he was just as nervous as I was and instead of brooding introspectively to figure it out, he was drinking to drown it out. Perhaps he was so terrified of the notion that he was trying to dull the pain. Egads! What had we done???

He plunked the glass on the table and glanced at me. “What are you thinking about?” He demanded.

“Huh?”

“Your minds working. I can see the little gears turning. Go ahead, spill it.”

“Ha-ha…oh you know! This whole day has been just, wonderful, you know? And I was just thinking back on it, sort of wistfully.” I tried to put the correct inflections on the words.

“Is that the truth?” He asked, but there was a sparkle in his eye that belayed the question.
“Of course it is.” I said with as much brevity as I could muster.

“Well the night’s still young…” He stood up and reached across the table for my hand. I took it and he lead me out of the bar and across the lobby towards the bank of elevators. As we waited for the elevator to make its slow decent from the fifteenth floor, he stood behind me, his hands around my waist, pulling me up against him. I could feel a definite bulge in his crotch and my breath quickened. He nipped playfully at my neck and where his breath brushed against my skin my flesh tingled.

What was I doing? I hadn’t actually discussed the matter of protection with him! We had no condoms that was certain, and we had already screwed up once!

But now his hands had artfully guided themselves up my shirt and he was rubbing my back sensually. My heart thundered in my chest, beating against my ribcage. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing away the redness that was creeping up my neck to explode across my cheeks. We were in a very public lobby! I couldn’t believe he was being so forward! Slowly his hands crept around the front and began to rub my stomach. I suppressed a moan and pushed myself further into him. My reactions only spurred him on more. His fingertips played with the edge of my bra, toying with the elastic seductively.

The elevator pinged and the doors suddenly rushed open. I pulled away and stepped into the car, thankful for the distraction. I was becoming far too…excited. I had never been very voyeuristic and I didn’t know how far Aaron’s inebriation would take us. He had a coy smile on his lips as he followed me. Without looking he pressed the button for the seventh floor and also the close door button. The doors closed, leaving the two of us alone in the elevator. My heart was racing as he came up to me. He pressed me against the back of the elevator and leaned down to plant a throbbing kiss on my lips. I moaned as excitement rushed through me. His hands reached under my shirt and rudely pushed the bra aside. He squeezed my nipples and my body crumpled against him. His tongue probed at my lips, forcing them open. I could taste the beer on his breath.

Hungrily he kissed me, his fingers working at my nipples. Behind us the elevator dinged for each floor it passed and I worried…in some distant part of my mind…that it would stop and some unsuspecting person would traipse in on our rather erotic display. The light lit up behind the “7” and the elevator dinged as the car jerked to a stop. He pulled away just moments before the door opened, admitting a middle aged-man that glared at us suspiciously. Aaron took my hand and led me from the car and down the hall. I could only blush as we passed the man, wondering what he had been thinking as he watched Aaron quickly step away from me.

Aaron beat a hasty pace down the hallway, holding me firmly. I tried to calm my wildly racing heart and worry about the matters ahead. We really shouldn’t be doing this again. Really, we shouldn’t. We really should stop. Aaron unlocked the room’s door and pulled me inside. I stood in the darkness facing him as he pushed the door closed. What little light filtering in from the hallway was abruptly cut off as the door closed with a pneumatic whoosh. Slowly he advanced on me and I slowly began to back away. I couldn’t see him but I could sense his presence like a burning heat. I felt his hand brush against my stomach and I flitted away.

Suddenly it was a game. The wild side of me, the one reserved for New Guy, reared up and took over the performance. I sidestepped the bed and playfully trailed a hand across the bedspread. In the gloom, I could see him reach out for the shadow of my hand but I snatched it away with a giggle.

“What do you want?” I whispered. He was standing on one side of the bed and I on the other.

“Hm?” He asked huskily, somewhat impatiently.

“What do you want?” I repeated, enunciating every syllable. I was goading him on, playing with him. Whatever practical side of my mind that had been battling with the lust to regain control had lost. Now it was just my passion, my yearning, my need for him that directed my words and actions.

“You!” He answered roughly.

Suddenly his hand shot out and grabbed the hand that I had let trail against the cool bedspread. He tugged me forward and I fell onto the bed. Before I had had time to regroup from the sudden movements, he was on top of me, kissing me, rubbing his hands against me. Echoing his frenzied movements, my hands reached up for his belt buckle. After some little fumbling I managed to unbuckle the contraption and pull it roughly through the loops. I gripped the belt in both hands and used it as a shield, placing it between us and pushing upward. He strained against the leather, trying to reach me but the belt impeded him. I giggled again and brushed a kiss against his lips. Hungrily he tried to extend that snatched moment but I pulled away, using belt to push him away.

He fell down onto his elbows above me, crushing the belt between us. He twined his hands in my hair and pushed my head upward to plant another hungry kiss on my lips. I tried to struggle but after several moments I allowed myself to succumb to the wildness of the embrace. He ripped the belt from my hands and the feel of the rubber being wrenched through my fingers stung a little. My will to continue this “catch me if you can” game eroded once the belt was gone. I fell into his kiss, my body relaxing.

He felt my surrender and tugged at the buttons of my jeans. The next several moments were filled with clumsy groping as we tried hurriedly to undress each other. In the darkness I reached for his penis. It was warm and throbbing, hard and ready. Eagerly I guided it towards me, gently positioning the tip just at the entrance…As his cock teased the tiny hairs around my labia a shudder worked its way through me. The sensations were almost too much and I worked at some modicum of control. I pulled my hands away, leaving his penis only slightly inserted. He took the rest of the initiative. With one hard push he plunged deep inside of me. I gasped and bucked against him. He pulled out again, leaving me feeling empty and hungry. At that moment I needed him inside of me to quench the needs within me. To satiate the hungry. As if reading my mind, he plunged into me again, sending another shiver through my legs.

He set a frenzied pace. My hips rose to meet each of his thrusts. Time lost its meaning as we loved together. At one point he stopped and, pulling me upright, fell onto his back so that I was perched on top and impaled on his penis. Eagerly I ground myself against him trying to force his penis further into me. I could hear his staggered breath and his own moans of pleasure. His hands griped at my waists and his nails dug almost painfully into my hips as he tried to force me to take more of himself into me. Vaguely I was aware of the headboard slapping against the wall but I had no cares for his neighbors. I worked myself on top of him as I felt the shudder of climax building. But it was too soon! I didn’t want it to end!

I tried to pull off of him but he held my hips firmly and pulled me against him.

“I’m going to come!” I whispered harshly, almost pathetically.

“Come!” He responded hoarsely. “Come baby! Come!” And he forced his body upward, pushing his penis as far into me as he could.

My climax exploded over us. I threw back my head and moaned as waves of ecstasy cascaded through my body. My legs trembled and my hands clenched into tight fists on his chest. Despite my passions he continued to grind against me until I felt the jerk of his own climax. He cried out in a hoarse whisper and held me tight against him as I felt his hot juices spurt into me….

…It was over. My breathing steadied and my awareness returned. My legs were a bit cramped and I tried to straighten them without dislodging his penis but it was futile. His organ popped out with a wet plop and left a wet sticky trail across my stomach. I rolled off of him and collapsed at his side. He pulled me against him, cradling my head in the crook of his elbow. We lay like that and the only sound was that of our rapid breathing…and a buzzing. I grew still as my mind focused on the angry buzzing. It was the sound of hundreds of angry bees. The sound of an electric razor left on. No…it was my cell phone.

Oh Goddammit! (I apologize to whichever God chose to here this insult) Fate was having a mighty good laugh at my extent. Aaron stood outside my window, looking confused and more then a little upset. I felt the heat rising up my neck and I forced a smile on my tear-streaked face. He jiggled the door handle but instead of unlocking the door, I rolled down the window.

 “What’s wrong?” He demanded.

 “Haha…nothing!” I exclaimed with a nervous laugh. I wiped at the tears on my face and shook my head in embarrassment. “Nothing at all.”

 “Why are you crying?”

 “Um…it’s silly.” I reached over to grab my bag, turning away so that I could gain a bit more composure and so I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. I lingered longer then necessary over the bag, pretending to pore through the contents.

He walked around the car to stand outside the passenger door. Again he jiggled the door handle. I sighed and reached over to unlock the door. He got in, closed the door behind him and sat waiting. I turned around and rolled up my window, trying to avoid his eyes, which held an accusatory look. 

“Well?” He demanded.

“Oh, Aaron, come on!” I said with another nervous high-pitched laugh. “It’s just a silly girl thing!” 

“Try me.” And his voice sounded less then amused. I turned back to him and my smile faltered. How exactly would I explain the crazed imaginings of a highly emotional girl? How to explain all that hope and those fanciful thoughts? See? This is what happens when you let your imagination run wild! I scolded myself.

“I was just sitting here, thinking…” My voice trailed away and my hands began to fidget with a lose thread on my sweater.

 “Thinking about what?” He asked, skeptically.

 “Aaron…” I tried to plead with him. But his look was steely. There would be no getting out of this explanation. Sigh… “I was thinking about us…or imagining us and it was such a nice thought. It was so sweet that it, sort of, well, moved me I guess.” I wiggled through the words, trying to dance artfully around the main topic of my thoughts. He stared at me hard for a moment and then his gaze softened. I had won another victory that night.

“I know, hon…I was thinking about it to.” And this time he averted his eyes. He turned to stare at the parking garage around us. “I wish there was something I could do. Being here with you…it’s…it’s great!”

Great? Didn’t sound too convincing. Of course, he was a guy and words of this nature didn’t come easily. What did I expect? I didn’t answer but I could feel tears struggling at the corners of my eyes. Just that meek confession was enough to bring me to tears.

“I wish that too!” I whispered and reached out to grab his hand. He turned back to me with a weary smile, a smile that said he was tired of thinking about the inevitable.

“Let’s not think about that! Let’s go to this restaurant you were talking about!”

 “Let me go up and do my hair…” I turned to reach for the door handle but he tugged at my hand.

 “Your hair is fine. Just brush it back in a ponytail once we get there.”

I stared at him shrewdly. I pulled down the sun visor to stare at myself in the small vanity mirror. My hair was more poofy then anything. It was probable that I would be able to brush it all back into some semblance of a neat bun. But I was loath to go somewhere looking like a thrown together mess. But Aaron was insistent. I was unsure if he was just hungry or unwilling to let me go back upstairs for whatever reason. I nodded and started the car.

The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long. Carefully we picked our topics of discussion. He talked about an emergency resuscitation seminar he had gone to earlier that day (fascinating…yawn) and I about some whimsical client phone calls I had received. We pointedly stayed away from any descriptor of the night’s events or how very fast the night was passing by.

At dinner, I was further able to put my whirlwind thoughts out of mind and truly have a good time. Aaron was as soft spoken as ever but I never felt that he was ignoring me, more that he was enjoying listening to me. And I had no end of entertaining tales to tell. For an hour after dinner we sat, nursing a caramel flan between the two of us as we continued to talk. At one point I glanced at the wall clock (shaped like a jalapeno pepper…how cute) and noticed that it was past ten o’clock. It was small wonder that the waitress had been loath to refill our water glasses. We split the bill (I felt bad making him pay the entire thing and I wanted to project this image of a strong, independent woman) and walked out into the chilly night.

This area of downtown Milwaukee was pretty artsy and even at this time of night there were people meandering down the well-lit streets. The city had already began its Christmas decorating, a month in advance, and garland lights were strong between the street lamps. I had had to park a few streets away from the restaurant and we walked quietly towards it. The closer we got to the car, the more the anxiety rose in me. I was aware that it was quite possible that a repeat of our early lust was sure to ensue once we returned to the hotel. It wasn’t as if I were adverse to making love to him again. Hell no! In fact the thought of it got the old juices going again. But then the thought of ‘condoms’ sprang to mind and I remembered that I would have to find some artful way of introducing that subject to him. And in introducing that topic, wouldn’t he realize that we hadn’t used one earlier? Then the whole kettle of fish that I had been so carefully trying to keep a lid on was bound to boil over. The only way to prevent having a rather heated discussion ensue was to stall the actual act of sex. That way I wouldn’t have to mention the absence of birth control and hence keep the night as peacefully blissful as possible. At least, that was how I figured it.

“What’s the matter, Evie?” Aaron asked suddenly. We had just about reached the car and I was rummaging in my coat pocket for the keys.

“Huh?” He had taken me aback by the suddenness of his inquiry. I hadn’t realized that he had noticed my pensive mood.

“You’ve been quiet ever since we started to walk out to the car. That’s a change from the chatterbox you were in the restaurant. I figure something’s wrong.”

I was half tempted to point out how derogatively I perceived the word “chatterbox” but I figured there were more important matters to deal with. This was the third time he had called me on my mood and I was worried that another excuse wouldn’t work this time. How many times could I play the faking seriousness ruse before he grew wise that something was really up? And wouldn’t logic dictate that whatever had been the matter those other anxious moments were the same things that were the matter now? Wasn’t that a logical chain of thought?

I waited too long to respond.

“Spill it.” Aaron demanded, silently but firmly. He stared at me through the surreal glow of the street lamps, his breath misting before him. I tried to busy myself with opening the car doors but he grabbed my hands and held them firmly. “Come on…what’s been going on?”

My heart began to speed up. His tone and words indicated that he wasn’t all as duped as I thought he had been. Perhaps he had been deluding himself, just as I had been deluding myself, thinking that if the words weren’t said the problem would just dissipate. A glance at his face assured me that he was well aware that there was something amiss and he was unwilling to pretend any longer.

“Aaron…” I began slowly, and I glanced down at his hands holding my own. I felt an intense wave of shame. How could I have been thinking of keeping this important knowledge from him? Why hadn’t I just come clean? We would have been able to deal with whatever happened together. Now I just looked sneaky and suspicious.

“Yes?” He prompted.

“Let’s get in the car. I’ll tell you everything.” I reluctantly pulled my hands from his grasp and unlocked the car doors. I tried to think of a delicate way of starting the conversation but nothing seemed to work. Finally I decided to just be blunt.

“Earlier…when we had sex we didn’t use protection.” I blurted out, staring at my hands. I didn’t want to look at his face. I didn’t think I could get through it if I looked at his face. “We didn’t use protection and it worried me.”

“What worries you about it?” He asked and his voice was low. I glanced up at him but he had turned to stare out the window. I sighed and looked down at my fingers. I took a breath and continued.

“I’m not on birth control and I’m worried that I could get pregnant.” I rushed the words together before I lost my nerve. I looked up at him, hoping to see his face smiling back at me. I didn’t. He still stared out the window. Finally he turned and his face was unreadable. He didn’t speak and I could tell that he was thinking things through. My heart beat so hard that I was afraid he could hear it.

“You’re not on birth control?” He asked, his voice neutral.

“No.” I whispered. I looked down again and hot tears stung my eyes. There it was. He had been aware of the faux pas but he had believed that I was on birth control. It was a reasonable belief. I mean, what girl went into a situation like this without condoms and without birth control???

“Damn…” I heard him whisper.

That single word opened a floodgate of emotions. Tears flooded my eyes and a muffled sob escaped my lips.

“I’m sorry!” I wailed through the tears. “I’m sooo sorry! I didn’t remember to bring condoms and I wasn’t thinking about not being on birth control! I was caught up in the moment and I just wasn’t thinking! I’ve been worrying about it all night and how to bring it up to you! I just didn’t want to ruin our night together. Oh God, Aaron! I’m sorry!” The words tumbled out and over each other. Tears blurred my vision as I sobbed as penitently as a prisoner being led to the death chamber.

He leaned over and grabbed my hand. I wrenched it away. I didn’t deserve him! I had been so devious in the keeping of this knowledge! I wasn’t even worthy of being here!

“I’ll take you back to the hotel and then leave.” I whispered through the sobs. I jammed the key at the ignition, missing the switch the first time, fighting to control the tears.

“Wha…wait! Why?” And he grabbed at my hand and snatched the keys away. I reached wildly for them.

“Because I shouldn’t have kept this from you! I know how angry you must be! I should have come clean! I’m sorry! But that doesn’t make it better!” I grabbed at the keys but he held them away. With another hand he grabbed my wildly reaching hands and held them together.

“Hold on! We both did…what we did and I didn’t see me stopping to ask if you had any protection on you. It’s not just your fault.” He said.

“I know…but I should have said something!” I wailed. I stopped struggling against him and let my hands fall to my lap.

“And so should I.” He said. He released my hands. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “We are both at fault here, not just you. Yes, it was a mistake but there’s no use punishing yourself for it. We don’t even know that…well…that anything will come of it. I don’t want you to leave. And I don’t want you beating yourself up. I want to be with you! It’s been so long! Let’s go back to the hotel. If you don’t want to do anything that’s fine but I do want to spend whatever time I can with you. Evie? Please?”

I couldn’t look at him. It was exactly the right thing to say but I couldn’t believe I was hearing it. It was like a dream or a cheesy soap opera. It was like a romance novel. I couldn’t believe he was so nice, so noble. It just wasn’t possible! It wasn’t happening to me! Not Evelyn Robertson. No, not me.

“Evie?” He asked again. Finally I looked up and his eyes were so full of worry that I couldn’t help but smile.

 “Ok.” I nodded. He smiled and handed me the keys.

“What’s the matter?” And the look on his face changed drastically. It was as if I had dumped a freezing pail of water over him. He switched off the TV and watched my face so intensely that I felt all my thoughts were laid bare on my face.

“Uh…” As I looked into his eyes, the eyes that I had dreamed so many dreams of, all my resolve to do ‘the right thing’, the ‘mature thing’. Flew out the window. All I could think is that I didn’t want to ruin this night over something that was quite obviously a paranoid reaction. “Uh…we are out of fresh towels.” I added hesitantly. I tried to coax a smile onto my frozen face.

He stared at me for a moment, searching my face to see if I was serious. Then, as if guessing that my seriousness had been just a farce, he broke into a smile. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!” He said. He bounced from the bed and wrapped me in another of his comforting bear hugs.

But I wasn’t comforted. I stood there in the circle of his arms, my damp body pressed against his, listening to the sound of my thunderous heart. Eventually I realized that I had better hug him back if I didn’t want him to assume that something actually was wrong and I mechanically wrapped my thin arms around his neck and held on. He let me go and moved back to the bed.

“What should we do for dinner?” he asked. His back was to me and he was paging through the hotel directory again. I busied myself retrieving my scatter articles of clothing and, with my back to him, hurriedly dressed. I caught a glimpse of my face in the dresser mirror and the look in my eyes was far from jocular. I looked like someone just moments from blurting out the secret to life and all the past presidential scandals that I had sworn to keep to myself. I shook my head and glanced back down as I struggled with a sock. I needed to calm myself and get my spiraling thoughts under control. If I sat and pondered about this all night I would ruin the precious little time I had with him.

Behind me, Aaron chatted away about Mexican versus Italian food and whether or not we should stay in or go out. But all I could think about was my own duplicity. How could I sit on the knowledge that we had potentially done something life altering? How could I enjoy the rest of the night with the thoughts that I had possibly been the catalyst that ruined not only my life, but his as well? Damn! Why wasn’t I as blissfully ignorant of the situation as he was? I didn’t realize that he had stopped talking until he had come up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“What’s the matter?” He asked for a second time that evening. Abruptly I realized I was staring down at my feet and I struggled to pull myself out of the funk I was rapidly descending into.

“Uh…I think I’m getting a hole in this sock!” I said, a bit too quickly and harshly to my own ears. I wiggled my toes in the white socks to emphasis that it had been those digits that had captivated me so He didn’t seem to notice that he had been duped for a second time.
“Well, take them off and we can stay in and order another pizza.” He whispered in a decidedly seductive tone. He ran his hands up my sides, over my arms and to my neck. He bent down to plant a furtive kiss on my neck.

At that moment, the last thing on my mind was sex. In fact, it repelled me and appalled me to think about actually committing the act again. Not while my mind was so occupied.

“No, no, no!” I said, trying to seem carefree. “We can’t stay cooped in here all night going at it like rabid rabbits!”

“And why not?” He asked. He spun me around to face him and I willed myself to look into those eyes again. I can’t say anything! I can’t! He’s such a sweetheart! I love him so much and I can’t ruin this! Not today! He leaned over and kissed me on the lips, another sweet, tender kiss that nevertheless communicated the urgency of his body. I could feel his erection beginning through the fabric of his boxers.

“You silly boy!” I said teasingly, pulling away. “We are not going to just sit here and do things all night! We are going to enjoy each other’s company…COMPLETELY!”

For a moment it appeared he might argue with me and I was wholly unprepared to rebuff him if he pushed the matter. One thing was certain, if he tried to become intimate again when my mind was so full of other, pressing, matters it would end badly. VERY badly.

His face turned up into a puppy-dog face of ‘oh please?’, but then he smiled.

“Ok, so what do YOU want to do?”

“Get your clothes on and I’ll take you to a really good Mexican restaurant a few blocks away.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“I need to run out to the car and get my overnight bag. I’ll be right back.”

“Ok, hurry up though! I might change my mind!” And he gave me a roguish wink. I smiled and fled the room.

Yes, I fled the room. I was so relieved to be alone in the hallway, away from his innocent face that my footsteps absolutely dragged as I moved towards the elevator. I couldn’t get the thoughts out of my head. If I hid my concerns from him, didn’t that make me almost as devious as if I had forced him into sex unprotected in the first place? If I didn’t come clean and discuss it with him didn’t that make me just as wrong as the act itself? No matter the emotions involved, it was irresponsible and immature. And if I became pregnant because of it…well neither Aaron nor I were prepared to deal with the consequences of such. 

The elevator doors opened. An Asian couple had been engaged in a conversation but stopped and smiled as I stepped on board. I smiled back and turned to stare sullenly at the polished doors. What if…? I didn’t want to give light to that thought. What if I…? No, stop right there, missy! We are NOT going to even contemplate that notion! What happened was a mistake that I am fully prepared to remedy and there is no way I’m going to contemplate the possibility of what could be. Chances are I’m not and this mistake will be just what it is: a MISTAKE. But I could be…No, nope! No hope, no anxiety, no ‘what ifs, NOTHING.

The elevator doors opened and I marched out and across the lobby, anger bubbling on my face. I was angry with myself. I was angry with that tiny little voice babbling it’s ‘what ifs’ with that tiny little note of hope and happiness. Hell, no! I can’t be happy or even hope! There is NO way that I’m pregnant and I’m not entertaining the notion. I had come to terms with fate’s plan and the designs of the universe that kept my embarrassingly childless in the light of all the baby boomers around me. There was no way I was going to buoy myself up with hope over the results of a misguided sexual act.

I marched across the parking lot and to my car, angrily jamming the key in the lock and reaching across to pull the bag across the passenger seat and out the driver’s door. But then, all the false bravado evaporated in a cloud. I was left standing there, half in and half out of the car with this feeling of emptiness. All the anger at myself was gone. All that was left was the veins of hope and that little voice that kept saying ‘life will make a way’ and ‘perhaps this was fate’. I crumpled into the car, pushing the bag roughly back onto the floor of the passenger seat. I slammed the car door and locked it as tears beaded in my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks.

Oh GODDESS! But what if this was fate??? What if he and I were meant to do just what we had done? We were overcome with love for each other (that was the romantic way of putting it) and had engaged in the act of lovemaking in innocent earnest. What if me becoming pregnant was all as fate had planned it? I hadn’t been planning on having unprotected sex with Aaron, but what if this was how fate worked? And wouldn’t it be romantic? Perhaps a baby (a baby!) would secure our love for each other and start he and I on the road to…destiny (or something).

Ordinarily I would banish such optimistic, romanticized nonsense from my mind. But at that moment I was so overcome with emotions (anger, fear, anxiety, and…yes, hope) that I allowed myself to wallow in it fully.

Couldn’t this be the way such things happened? Yes, I know statistically a life started on such a basis has very little success rate but I had beaten the odds before. And statistics were so black and white. This was a gray area!

Hope, ardent and strong, surged through me. It was a hope that I had gotten some way of securing my love for Aaron. That I had finally been granted my wish and he and I would live happily ever after. It was a hope I hadn’t felt since I was a girl. It poured over me as the tears dripped down my face. Heavy, over-bearing sobs wrenched from my chest. I sat there, blubbering like a teenager who had just been invited by the most popular guy in school to the senior prom. My voice caught in my throat and my chest heaved. Tears dripped from my face and onto my shirt.

I was bent over the steering wheel of the car, wailing incoherently, tears streaming down my face, when a tap at the window alerted me to the fact that someone was watching. Feeling a bit moronic and realizing how I must have looked, I glanced up…and into the face of Aaron.

He hugged me, another of those crushing hugs that took the nervous wind from my lungs. He held me like that for some time, just hugging me. He smelled clean, freshly showered no doubt. He was in (thankfully) a T-shirt and jeans. When he finally released me, he pushed me back a bit and stood smiling comically.

“God I missed you!” He said.
“I missed you to!” My voice caught at the last word and I could feel tears welling in the corners of my eyes. He didn’t seem to notice. He turned around and moved to the TV. There were two queen-sized beds in the room. One looked freshly made, it hadn’t been slept in. The other was rumpled and the overly fluffed comforter pushed to the floor.

“You hungry? I’m starving! I missed brunch because I slept in but I was trying to wait on you before I got anything. I’m glad you got here when you did because I was about to eat my arm off!”

I tried to swallow the emotions threatening to overcome me.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t think I would like you nearly as much if you only had one arm.” I answered. I walked into the room and glanced around.

It was the normal hotel room. A desk in one corner with a telephone and a lamp, a huge dresser (probably never used) with a giant mirror above it, and a dorm-sized refrigerator with coffee maker. The coffeemaker looked unused and I didn’t smell the enticing aroma of coffee in the air. The room had one window but the curtains were closed so a preternatural darkness enveloped the environs. I moved over to the shades and threw them open with a flourish.

“What are you? A vampire? Open the window and let some light in here!” I admonished. I was more trying to give myself something to do. My nervousness and that strange tearfulness were threatening to erupt.

“Maybe I am.” He answered playfully.

I felt his arms encircle my waist and for a moment my whole body went numb except for the beating of my heart. It was racing! I was certain that if you glanced at me you would see my blouse working up and down with the fierceness of my heart’s rapid beats. His lips nipped at my neck, just at that sensitive area above my shoulder but below the ear. Was this it? Was now the moment? I wasn’t ready! There wasn’t even a preamble! Gently he turned me to face him and I forced my eyes up to stare at his own. He leaned down and kissed me. It wasn’t as hungry as I expected. His arms stayed on my waist instead of roaming over my butt or up to my bra. The kiss was tender, filled with emotion. I could almost taste his joy, his rapture, at seeing me.

Fears and concerns melted away in that one kiss. My own arms rose to encircle his neck. My body bent into his. My lips parted to welcome his darting tongue. He sighed, a contented sound and a rush of air that escaped into my own mouth. This kiss, this embrace, lasted for several moments. I clung to him and he to me. Finally he moved back. The tears I had been fighting spilled down my cheeks. He was smiling. Wordlessly, without need of an explanation, he reached up and roughly wiped a tear away.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He whispered huskily.
“I…me too.” I whispered back.

I was crying, the tears flowing freely. But my heart was happy. Inside I was laughing. I reached out for him and hugged him close. He hugged me back. Yes! This was it! This was him! My EMT! My Aaron! Oh Goddess how I’d missed him! If the world ceased to spin right now and we were all jettisoned into space it wouldn’t matter a bit because he was here! Time had no meaning! Nothing mattered but this place and this man! It felt like home. Like my favorite meal and anxiously awaiting Santa Claus’s arrival on Christmas morning. It felt like heaven and destiny and fate. It felt like those sappy Mastercard commercials and Lifetime movies. It felt like I couldn’t possibly get any happier.

Finally I pulled away, realizing I must appear like an emotional female. I turned away to hurriedly wipe my eyes. He stayed behind me for a while and then turned away, realizing that I was slightly embarrassed. Thankfully he didn’t say a word about my tears.

“What did you want to eat? I’m still pretty tired so I really don’t want to go out. I thought we could order room service and just stay in and watch a movie.”

“That’s cool.” I answered. I turned around in time to catch my Aaron wiping at one of his eyes. He was glancing down at a small leather hotel directory and his eyes glistened. He too had been crying. Or at least teary eyed.

Everything would be all right. I knew that then. I was comfortable. There really was no place I would rather be. How could I have foolishly been thinking of not coming???

We dined on California pizza and root beer while watching one of his favorite movies, “Backdraft”. It seemed uncanny that that movie, of all the movies in the world, would be coming on cable that day but there it was. We both laughed when we saw it highlighted on the unscreen TV guide. We chatted throughout the movie. I talked about my dog and my life. Piecemeal, I brought up discussions about James, trying desperately to keep out the fact that he was living with me currently. I had a feeling that he knew but for some reason he wouldn’t speak about it. He laughed with me when I described my frustration over situations between James and Sophia (God I want to just STRANGLE her sometimes). He leaned back in the bed, sipping soda and listening to me. I curled up next to him and was thrilled when he wrapped his arms around me to pull me closer. This was something James had never really been keen on doing and that I hadn’t gotten a chance to initiate with Robert. Contentedly I lay my head against his chest while we watched Backdraft. After a while I realized that he had fallen asleep. Carefully I reached over and switched of the TV. For a moment I listened to the muted traffic outside and the sound of his breathing. I wondered what I would do while he slept. I had left my overnight bag in the car with my book and laptop. I contemplated going out to get it but then thought better of it. I wanted to drag this moment of bliss out for as long as I could. Eventually I dosed off as well.

I awoke and the room was dark. For a moment I feared to move, although I didn’t know why. Outside I could hear cars on the street and the occasional call from some raucous individual, but inside this darkened hotel room all was silence. I was still lying curled against Aaron, my EMT, although we had shifted around. His arm was under my neck and it was becoming uncomfortable. Carefully I began to shift, trying as gently as possible to rearrange myself so that I was comfortable but still wrapped in his embrace. The moment I moved his arms stiffened and he pulled me closer.

“You awake?” His whispered, his lips very close to my ear. The brush of his lips again my neck sent excited shivers down my spine.

“Mm-hmm. What time is it?” I whispered back.
“I’m not sure. I don’t really care.” He began to kiss my neck, slowly working his way from my earlobe down my shoulder and then back up again, tugging playfully at my ear.

“Is your buddy going to be upset that I sort of evicted him from his room?” I asked. My fears had mostly dissipated and I was able to enjoy the sensuous feel of his lips playing against my skin. I did have one fear however and that was that his partner would come bursting in while we were in a rather compromising position.

“Nope. That guy that he met, his friend from Florida or wherever, actually has a place not too far from here. They are going there to have some sort of party. Not sure how much fun a party will be with just a bunch of paramedics but if it keeps him busy, I don’t too much care.” One of his hands had begun to caress my leg, moving slowly back and forth. His breathing was becoming a bit staggered and his tender kisses took on a rushed quality.

I, too, was becoming excited. The room was warm and the feel of his body nestled against mine re-ignited an age-old passion for him. Where his lips kissed me a tingling sensation arose. The feel of his hands caressing me slowly nearly drove me wild. I wiggled as close to him as I could, urging him on with subtle motions of my body. Slowly, so damned slowly! his hand inched higher until it reached the waistband of my jeans. He fumbled with the button for a slight moment and I inhaled slightly so that he would have more room to work with. With the button undone he slowly unzipped the zipper and spread the two halves aside. I awaited the touch of his fingers against my stomach but for a moment they lingered just outside of this forbidden area. He turned me to face him and his lips groped for my own.

This kiss was more hurried, hungry and passionate. His tongue prodded eagerly at my lips, prying them open. I was swept away in the moment, my own hands reaching for his T-shirt and ripping it out of his jeans. I ran my hand along his chest, so familiar to me once again. He was warm, his chest laboring under his harried breath. His own hands had slipped under my shirt and were fumbling at the clasp of my bra. I waited as he struggled with the clasp, recognizing the frustration in his eager tugs. Instead of helping him, I egged him on with my hands, dragging my nails across his chest and back. He moaned deep in his throat, tugging desperately at the bra until the clasp finally popped free. He broke the kiss long enough to rip the shirt over my head and then his lips were back again. His hands roamed to my breasts, squeezing the nipples. I sighed and my own hands wandered to his jeans. Here I stopped a moment. How far was I willing to go? Was this it? Was I comfortable with this?

Stop your psychoanalyzing! A voice screamed within my head. Just go with it! Roger, that! I ripped at the button on his jeans, unsecuring them and reaching into his pants. Boxers! Thank goodness he wore boxers! I fumbled around and I could feel him suck in his stomach to accommodate my wandering hands. I dipped into his boxers and found him hard and ready. I tugged incessantly at his dick and he broke the kiss again to moan in desperation. 

“What do you want?” I whispered to him huskily. All thoughts of being that sweet little homegrown girl that he remembered and endearing him to my through use of virginal charm was gone. Now I was just hungry for him, for the love that I had missed for many long nights.

“You, baby. I want you.” He whispered back and his voice communicated his own longing.

“Then take me.” I answered. For a moment I was able to contemplate just how corny that statement had sounded. For only a moment though.

“Yes, ma’am!” He answered and pushed me roughly back onto the bed. I was unprepared for just how passionate he was. He ripped at my jeans, pulling them down my legs and flinging them on the floor. In his haste one sock was snagged and tugged off as well. I rubbed the other foot against the bed and was able to remove the other on my own. I briefly worried if I would be able to find them later. He stopped long enough to take off his own jeans and toss away his shirt and then he was on top of me. He kissed me harshly as he pressed his knee between my legs, coaxing them open. I let my hands roam his back, tracing jagged lines with my nails. I felt his hands probing my inner thighs reaching up to tickle my clitoris. I jerked, involuntarily as his fingers brushed that delicate mound and a surge of pleasure shot through me. He probed further, finding me wet and more then ready. He inserted a finger and I moaned, wanting so much more. He inserted another finger and I twisted beneath him, arching my back and reaching upward with my body, wordlessly begging him to take me.

He didn’t wait long. He removed his questing fingers and guided his penis inside of me. Slowly he slid the tip inside and I moaned as waves of pleasure rolled down my legs. It wasn’t like this with New Guy. There was a difference to the feelings. Where before I was able to control my moaning and jerking, I was helpless to control myself at his touch. Suddenly he pushed all the way in and I had to bite down to stop a scream from escaping my lips. The rhythm was discordant for a moment as our eagerness through us out of sync but soon we settled into a steady pattern, my hips moving up to meet his thrusts. He pounded away inside of me, seeming to try to bury his penis within me. I could feel the wetness seeping down my legs and underneath me, staining the bed but for once I didn’t care. I dug my nails into his back and pulled him into me, urging him deeper and faster. I could feel my climax coming on and for a moment I wondered if it were too soon. I didn’t care and I urged him on, panting and whispering his name. I could hear him as well, he was moaning and at one point he tried to pull away but I grabbed him and pulled him deeper as my climax reached its crescendo. A scream tore through my body as the pleasure reached unbearable heights. I didn’t care who heard and what he was feeling. The only thing I cared about was this feeling, it was absolute.  My whole body surged and tingled. I screamed out a wordless cry and I heard him moan as well. He pushed deeper, thrusting so hard that he pushed my further up on the bed. He pushed on even as the waves of my climax receded. Sweat beaded my body and his breath came rushing in ragged gasps. Finally with one hurried thrust I felt him explode within me. He cried out as he came and I hugged him into him.

He sagged on top of me, spent and satiated. For a moment we lie like that, sweaty bodies sticking together as sticky ejaculate dripped from between my legs and down my thighs. The last waves of pleasure receding I finally allowed rationale back into my mind. And doubt crept back.

That Friday moved like molasses flowing uphill on a cold December morning. I kept anxiously watching the clock. Files stacked high on one side of my desk to be pushed irritably to another side, untouched. I did the minimum amount of work to keep myself employed, but the little I did do was riddled with errors. My mind was focused on the impending meeting. Whenever my mind wandered to the possibilities of what was to come my heart fluttered and skipped a beat and I hurriedly tried to turn my thoughts to other things. I was nervous, but not a good eagerly awaiting type of nervous.

I was scared. I was worried about what would happen once the doors were closed and the lights off. Obviously I knew what would happen, but what would he expect? What did I expect? The type of girl that I was with New Guy I just couldn’t be with EMT. The feelings were…different. With New Guy I was this blossoming nymphomaniac with insatiable curiosity and very little scruples. But with EMT I was this homegrown girl passionately holding on to her first love and wary of making any mistakes. Did that even make sense to my own mind? How could my feelings toward the two men be so totally different?

I tried to break it down rationally (all while attempting to do something so that it didn’t look like I was spending four hours gazing into space like a nincompoop). Was I sexually attracted to EMT? That was the most logical of explanations as to why I wasn’t so eager to grab him and leap in the sack. When I thought about it I felt that familiar tingling between my legs and that uncomfortable moistness. Yes, I was sexually attracted to him. But then I thought of his face, his eyes, the yearning and the waiting. The long distance gaps and the communication shortfalls. I thought of my love for him…my NEED for him and all that sexual yearning and tension dried up as quickly as a small desert pond in the height of summer drought. For some reason my love for him seemed to cancel out the yearning sexual desire.

Why? Because of my fears. My fears that I didn’t have him in the long run, only for this one moment. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. I didn’t want to contemplate the fact that the two of us were not “together” and never would be. It was inconceivable that I would love someone this much and NOT be with that person. My mind refused to fathom it. Yet, it did. It fathomed and obsessed over it. And as much desire I had for EMT cooled in the light of that unrelenting, harsh fear. At the end of this weekend, EMT would be leaving for Michigan and I would once more be left alone with my Robert’s and James’s and New Guy’s. But all I would want would be EMT. I would be alone and lonely without him.

Don’t be silly! I tried to tell myself. And as the sadness enveloped me like a smothering cloud of smoke I tried to banish it with a ray of hope. I will always have EMT, even if I can’t be with him. He loves me as fervently as I love him. And one day, true love WILL conquer all. It has to! Hadn’t I seen the ‘Made for TV’ movies? Hadn’t I seen the sappy theatricals were love always wins in the end? That couldn’t all be idealistic bullshit sprung from the minds of overly optimistic hippies. There had to be some basis of fact for all this stuff. The romance novels, the movies, the Mastercard commercials! There had to be some fact to all this. Right?
Wrong. There actually didn’t, my rational mind interjected. All there really needs to be is hope and all that idealistic bullcrap just comes naturally. There didn’t ever need to be any happy endings but still there would be stories to fuel the hope.

Whatever good mood I had been working up vanished. That mind was right. There was no rule that stated that fervent love had to be honored. No law that states that two people so in love had to be together in the end, after a predestined amount of time. There was no verification that I would actually live “happily ever after” with EMT. Damn.

Eleven thirty-five. Gulp. It was almost time. What would I do? What would I say? My heart thumped and my mouth dried. I shuffled a stack of papers and willed myself to get up and do some filing, anything to take my mind off of the impending meeting. Why was I so nervous? Why was I so scared? By the time noon rolled around I had half convinced myself to call the entire thing off. Call EMT and tell him some bogus excuse. My car was acting up. I had the flu. Some long lost and distant, but still very dear, family member was dying and I had to rush to Timbuktu to be with them.

By 12:02 I was clocked out and headed for the car. I was so lost in contemplation that when I passed co-workers wishing me a good weekend I just stared blankly back as if I was on drugs. My legs took me out to the parking lot and into the car. My body was working on autopilot. My mind feverishly tried to rationalize, reason, and quantify my harried thoughts. I’m not sure what part of my brain started the car and moved it out of the parking spot and into traffic but I became worried about my safety when my consciousness realized that I was in pretty heavy lunch traffic with no recollection of where I was going. I forced my mind on the task of navigating the busy noonday traffic crunch. But where was I going? To the hotel to meet EMT? Or home to cower behind locked doors and familiarity?

The street before the freeway onramp that would take me barreling back home I suddenly turned. There was no stopping this locomotive. If I missed this opportunity there would be few others. I had to see him. I wanted to see him, no matter my fears and my concerns. Of all the people in the world, it was him that I wanted the most. I would not turn away. I could not turn away and still face my sorry reflection in the light of day.

I kept repeating these thoughts as I stood rather unsteadily before a bank of elevators in the lobby of the hotel. The door opened for the nearest elevator and a group of tanned and well-built men strode out. One of them was EMT’s partner. He smiled and waved as he passed. As the doors to the elevator closed, shutting me in, I wondered what he was thinking. He had recognized me! Was he thinking that I was on my way to EMT to fulfill his “manly needs”?

Stop it! Get a grip! He probably was just waving to be friendly! Of course he knew who I was! I had driven him from the train station just a day earlier. He had been thinking nothing nefarious (most probably)! 

The ride up to the seventh floor was the longest elevator ride known to man. The doors opened and I stared dumbly at the wall plaque pointing out the direction of various ranges of rooms. My heart pounded so hard that it hurt and my legs were numb as I started down the hall. Room 712. I stopped at the door. There was a yellow “Do Not Disturb” tag hanging from the metal doorknob. I could hear a TV going inside. Do not disturb? What was he thinking? We were going to hit the floor like rabbits the moment the door opened???

Get a grip, girl! I fumed to myself. Stop jumping to conclusions! He probably just didn’t want the uncomfortable experience of having a cleaning woman traipse into his room while he was still in his boxers.

Would he BE in boxers? Or did he wear tightie whities? I couldn’t remember! Oh Goddess I couldn’t remember what he slept in! This is a mistake! I need to get away! I can’t face these fears!

But my hand rose traitorously and knocked firmly on the door. I could hear the sound of a lock being undone and the door opened. He smiled out at me and reached for me…

That night with James was one of the most difficult since I had started this “secret” life on the side. Far from my feelings of guilt over the fast dwindling feelings I was having for him I had this overwhelming feeling that there was just someone else I would rather have been with. It was different then the feelings of guilt over what I had done with New Guy or where I had been with Robert. This was a feeling that I just wanted…needed…to be with someone else. James had made his specialty chicken dish, chicken breasts stuffed with a cream cheese and chive mixture all wrapped with a piece of bacon. Normally this was one of my favorite dishes of his but that night my appetite was just not there and it had nothing to do with the pancakes and eggs I had eaten just an hour and a half earlier.

When he went off to make his nightly phone call to Tony, I snuck into the bathroom with my own cell phone to call EMT. I was worried that he would be too busy with his Meet and Greet but he answered the phone on the second ring. I could hear the noises of conversation in the background. He was still at the reception but as we chatted I could hear him moving and suddenly the sounds of talking became muted. He had gone into the convention hall’s hallway, away from the crowds.

“What are you doing for the rest of the night?” He asked eagerly. It was Thursday and I had to work the next day. Besides, it was nearly 9 and this was no time for me to be traipsing off downtown. It was a half hour drive, at best, and I was guaranteed not to be home until well after midnight. I couldn’t, conceivably, drive down there and expect to be able to get up for work the next day. And no matter how much I wanted to go to him, I just couldn’t blow off a day of work. What would my excuse be? Excuse me, my long lost first love is in town and I need the day off.

Even though these rational thoughts were running through my mind, I allowed the thrill of excitement to sneak into my blood. Wouldn’t it be great to actually tell James not to wait up and dash out into the dark to meet up with him? Just sit up all night, perhaps find a deserted highway somewhere and watch the sun come up. I had done that once…though not with EMT. “What do you have in mind?” I asked with a sexy giggle.

“Well, Justin found some guy that he went to school with down in Florida and they are going off to a bar tonight so I’ve got the room all to myself. He says that he can bunk with that guy for the night so we can have the room all night…” He let the implication lie.

“Mmm.” But even as I was sitting there, contemplating the idea, I could hear James in the other room. His conversation with Tony must have been over and he had returned to the living room to watch TV. For a moment, doubt flooded my mind. And something worse, GUILT. And as the guilt slowly filled my mind I began to conjure excuses. 

“So what do you think?” He asked.

“I…can’t.” I said with a sigh. Goddess why was I so unwilling to just be wild and daring and throw caution to the wind! I had done it with New Guy! Why couldn’t I be that way with EMT! But the answer was plain. Because the stakes were upped here. I didn’t just want a sexual relationship. I wasn’t just craving a love. This WAS my love. EMT was my dream lover and I was unwilling to compromise the love we shared just for a “bootycall”. I was worried that that’s all he wanted me for While my rational mind was sure that New Guy only wanted me for sex that same rational mind clung to the feeling that what I had with EMT was more. It was the ultimate. It was love and I was so afraid of ruining that. I couldn’t be that woman that I was with New Guy, not with EMT. Because there was actual feeling there. Whereas there was just…lust with New Guy.

“Why not?” EMT asked, and his voice sounded a bit petulant.

“I have to work tomorrow.” I answered.

“I know! See you can spend the night here, right? You work down here anyway so it would actually be convenient.”

For a moment I allowed myself to contemplate the idea. Yes, it could work. I worked just ten short blocks from his hotel. Hell, I would actually be able to sleep in. But then again, who was I kidding? I knew damn well that once he and I were in a darkened room together, with no distractions, there was little stopping us from being all over each other. And once I was enveloped in his own passion I would be helpless to stop it. I wouldn’t want to. I think I would be just as overwhelmed by it as he was. There would be little sleep that night, I thought with a yawn.

“That’s a good idea…” I said.

“But?” He said and now I could hear the disappointment, poignant and definite even through the static.

“You know as well as I that if I was there in that room with you tonight neither of us would get any sleep.”

“Would that be so bad?” He asked, and now he sounded dangerously hurt. Like I had completely blew him off.

“Of course not, you know that! It’s just that I have to go to work tomorrow and we’ve been really busy. I can’t afford to blow it off or be a zombie tomorrow. Especially after leaving two hours early today.”

“Yea.” He sounded bitter.

 “But I can come to you tomorrow, how about that? It’s a Friday and we can spend the entire day and night together.” I said. I was making excuses, I knew it. I was trying to offer him a consolation prize and hoping desperately that he would take it. “I only have a half day at work tomorrow…” I continued, trying to let the sentence dangle enticingly. 

“Oh yea, what time do you get off?” He asked, and the disappointment seemed to dissipate a bit.

I knew that it would be alright. I coaxed him on with the promise that I would be over straight after work. He promised that he would get his partner to go to the afternoon sessions, while he would go to the morning ones, so that he would be free to be with me all night. It was enticing but I was still nervous. We talked for an hour, discussing possibilities for our meeting the next day. When I finally hung up I was feeling moderately confidant about the way things were. And then I returned to the living room with James.

…As he jogged over to the car, I fumbled with the keys to cut the engine. By the time he had weaved through the crowds and made it to the curb, I had managed to step out of the car and move around to meet him…without tripping or making a fool of myself. My heart was beating wildly. I didn’t know what to do, what he expected. Would he want me to reach out to him? Kiss him?? Thankfully, he took the lead. He grabbed me up in a hug that literally tipped me off my feet. If he hadn’t been holding me so securely I would have tripped. He crushed me so tightly against him that my chest was crushed and my breathing came out sounding ragged and rushed.

“Oh my GOD it’s so good to see you!” He whispered into my ear, his breath teasing the delicate hairs around my ear and at the nape of my neck. 

“You too!” I whispered back and, remarkably, I could feel tears at the corner of my eyes and my chest tightened as an overwhelming rush of emotions flooded over me. Uncertainly I rose my hands and rapped them around his neck as I tried to control the spill of tears. We clung to each other like that for several moments until he finally broke the hug and pulled away.

“You look so good!” He said, a crocked grin crossing his face as he looked me up and done. I could feel a blush sufficing my face. I was uncomfortably aware of the crowds of people bustling around us, some of them staring outright but most of them plain ignoring us. I’m sure we appeared like two lovers apart for a great time.

I can’t quite explain why it was that I was so nervous. So many thoughts were running through my mind. God, he hasn’t changed a bit! He even smells just like I remembered. He had turned and was beckoning to his friend who had stayed beside the door, giving us our privacy. At EMT’s urging, the guy reached down and grabbed two duffle bags and jogged over. 

“This is Justin.” EMT introduced. The man smiled and nodded. He seemed uncomfortable and briefly I wondered what EMT had told him about me. “Justin, this is Evie…”

There it was. I had wondered how he would introduce me. This is Evelyn, my best friend? My ex-girlfriend? Or, worse still, this girl I’ve known for years and sometimes use to fuck? I was somewhat relieved that he left it at that. This is Evie. 

“Hey, good to meet you.” Justin said and reached out to shake my hand. I nodded and reached out. His hand was cold and rough, calloused from years of rough living.

“Well, fellas!” I said, trying to keep the nervous tremor from my voice. “She’s not much but pile in and I’ll take you where you need to go.” I said, motioning towards the car. I moved around to the back and unlocked the hatchback. It was just big enough for both of their bags. I was slightly embarrassed while watching EMT pull forward the front seat to let Justin squeeze into the back, although Justin swore that he was comfortable. I returned to the car and started the engine.

“Where can I take you?” I said. “Well you can drop Justin off at the hotel, if you don’t mind. I’m starving and want to grab something to eat!” EMT answered. 

I followed the directions he supplied, the hotel being only ten minutes away. I felt a bit bad that we had just left Justin standing on the curb before the hotel but he assured me that he would be fine. There was a diner across the street and he mentioned that he would go over there and grab a cup of coffee while he waited. Assured that Justin would be alright, I turned the car back unto the road and started to drive. I was unsure where to go.

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked, turning briefly to look over at him. He was staring back at me, his eyes boring into my being. I hurriedly turned back to the road. 

“What’s good around here?” He asked, and his voice was somewhat husky. I imagined what he was thinking and I was uncomfortable with the thought. According to him, it had been a while since he had…um, done the deed? But was he really horny right now? Wasn’t his heart beating as hard as mine? Wasn’t he just as nervous as I was? How could he be thinking of sex now?

“Uh…I guess it depends on what you want. I’m not too familiar with the eateries here in downtown Milwaukee other then the fact that they are extremely expensive.” 

“Well take me someplace you are familiar with.” He said, his voice low. I could hear him shifting in his seat and a moment later I felt his hand graze my right hand that was lying lightly against the gear shifter. I drew it away hurriedly as if he had burned me. In the instant I thought that I had done something wrong and was about to apologize when he spoke. “I’ve missed you so much, Evie! You don’t even know!” His voice was husky and deep. I glanced over at him and his eyes seemed to waver. I could feel the strength of his longing in those rushed words. But there was something else. Something that was just as strong. It was love, I could feel it just as strong as the yearning.

I drove to a suburb of Milwaukee, using side streets and winding through afternoon traffic. I didn’t know just where to go. My stomach was unsettled and I wasn’t particularly hungry. I was also enjoying the time that we had alone. A time I used to get used to his presence again. The air in the car warmed, not just from the car’s heater but also from the warm feelings that the two of us shared as we became reacquainted. The conversation moved from rushed and uncertain to easy and assured, just like two old friends who were getting to know each other again. We talked about the old times at college, about the times after college, about cold nights on abandoned highways, and hurried kisses shared in the living room while parents slept. And it was good to talk to him. He seemed genuinely happy to see me. 

After a while I finally stopped at a local diner and we went inside. At 5:30 p.m. we ordered pancakes and eggs with a carafe of coffee to share. Over breakfast we chatted more, laughing like old friends normally do. I forgot my unease during that meal. I forgot everything…until my cell phone vibrated. I glanced down at the display. It was nearly 6:45 and James was calling. EMT also glanced at his cell.

“Oh man, there’s a reception at 7 that I’m supposed to go to. A sort of meet and greet. I need to get back!” Hurriedly we paid for ‘breakfast’ and I drove him back downtown. He asked me to call him that evening and I promised I would. As I drove towards home I dialed James. He was home and worried about where I was.

“I stopped for coffee with a friend, lost track of time. I’m on my way home now.” 

“Ok…” He sounded uncertain. I’m not sure why I hadn’t mentioned EMT. James was aware of EMT, of course. As one of my oldest, dearest friends (and ex-lover) I had talked extensively about EMT. I had even told James how I felt EMT had been my first true love. “Did you eat?” James asked suddenly.

“No.” I answered quickly.

“What do you want for dinner?” James asked.

“Surprise me?” I answered.

“Ok, well I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes…see you soon.” But it wasn’t him I was thinking about.

I was at work, staring off into space when a soft buzzing noise broke my concentration. I looked around as the buzzing started again. My eyes settled on my handbag on the shelf above me and my mind hit on the object that was causing the noise. My cell phone, set to vibrate. It was odd for it to ring during the day. Most callers knew I was at work at this time. I rummaged through the oversized bag looking for it as the buzzing continued. I pushed aside wallet, checkbook, phone book, lipstick until my hands settled on the silver object just as the last vibrations died away. The screen registered “1 Missed Call”. Glancing behind me and turning so my back was presented to whomever might wander past my cubicle, I flipped open the phone and dialed through the menu until I came to the missed call logs. For a moment I stared in disbelief at the number displayed there. MsuEMT. I stared at the date and time to be certain there was no mistake. It was EMT who had just called me.

Normally he didn’t call at all, our communication these days relying strictly on text messages and IM’s. I was certain that he knew I was at work, as well. He may be an hour ahead of me but it was only 1:47 here. Why had he called? Curiosity ate away at me. The phone buzzed again, one short vibration. He had left a voicemail. I grabbed the telephone and called the main voicemail line. When my greeting began to play I punched in a key combination that took me straight to the voicemail menu. Eagerly I worked through the phone tree to the “Listen” menu and waited as the circuits connected. “Hey hon…” His voice was just as I remembered it. There was a good deal of noise in the background, like he was standing outside. Irritably I adjusted the phone’s volume. “Guess where I am? There’s an Emergency Responder Convention at…burst of static…Midwest Airline Center which I think is only a few blocks from here. At least I HOPE it’s only a few blocks from here because I don’t know how you would hail a cab in Cheese-sconsin. Anyway, I thought that we could get together…Another infuriating burst of static…Give me a call cause, you know, I’m here.”

I sat there, my hand gripping the phone’s receiver so tightly that the knuckles had gone white. The feminine voicemail auto-attendant prompted me with a list of options as the last chords of the message died away. Hurriedly I queued the message up again and listened again. Even through the static there was no mistaking the gist of the message. He was…HERE! I glanced up at the wall, as if a map were outlined against the dull off-white paint. The Midwest Airline Center? It was less than five miles from where I worked. The noise in the background…it must have been either the train station or the bus station. Hurriedly I dialed his phone number from my desk phone, not willing to use my cell phone so blatantly. There was a drawn out pause as the number connected and then the ringing tone. I held my breath…why hadn’t I gotten to the phone in time? Why hadn’t it been in my pocket like normal? Damn, damn, DAMN.

“Hello?” The voice was distorted by static but unmistakable.
“Hello…” I said hesitantly.
“There you are! I was hoping that you would call me back! Don’t you work around here?” He asked. I was full of trepidation, almost believing this to be some cruel joke. “Are you HERE? I mean, in Milwaukee, here?”
“YES!” He said, and his own voice rose in excitement. “At the last minute the guy that was supposed to come to the convention bailed and I jumped at the chance. Sorry I didn’t call you earlier but it was spur of the moment and then my cell wasn’t getting any reception on the train at all. We just got here about ten minutes ago and check in at the hotel isn’t until 3. So what is there to do around here for an hour?”

I glanced at the clock. He was so close but I wouldn’t get off work for another two and a half hours at the earliest. Unless…”How about I play hooky and meet you there?” I asked excitedly. “You think you can? I mean, it would help us save on the cost of getting a cab.” I was euphoric. You bet your sweet ass I could get off early. I wasn’t even off the phone before I was busy typing an email to my supervisor. Something has come up and I need to leave immediately. Sorry about the inconvenience. I waited with baited breath for her response. It came only two minutes later. Sure, no problem. I was in a flurry of excitement, my face flushed with excitement. I quickly threw pens into the drawer and shuffled all the papers in a pile to the side of my desk. The computer screen hadn’t gone black and I was already out the door and heading for the parking lot.

A cold October wind whipped against my open coat but my body was flushed and warm with excitement. I jogged across the busy street, barely making it across before the traffic light turned green. I jumped in the car and jammed the key into the ignition, noticing the slight shake of my hands as I nervously fumbled to start the car. I wondered if it were just the cold that had set my hands to shaking? The car stuttered a bit in the cold air but the engine caught and roared into life. I forced myself to calm down, taking a deep breath. The train station was only five minutes away. He said that he and his buddy would be waiting outside. He asked that I drop his partner off at the hotel, he would hang around there for an hour before check in while the two of us “caught up”.

When the car’s idling died down a bit I threw it in gear and pointed it towards the train station. My mind drifted to our meeting just moments ahead. Would he look the way I remembered? Gods it had been ages since we had last seen each other! What, something like five or six years? Possibly longer! What would I say to him? What would he say to me? Would we hug? Would we kiss? The train station loomed ahead and traffic became heavier as taxis, busses, and commuters fought for the few free available parking spaces outside of the station. Here and there cars had stopped to let people out or were just outright double-parked with their four-ways on and no one inside. This left traffic to crawl through one lane that was barely big enough to allow the passage of one car. Groups of people milled around the front of the station where a turnabout was set for cars to drive in and drop passengers off.

I inched slowly, excruciatingly slowly, forward, glancing nervously around at the scattered people. Would I even recognize him? Then suddenly I spotted a familiar figure. He was standing off to one side, near the entrance beside a tall thin man. I knew it was him, even though he was looking away and I couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a dark gray coat with an EMT patch on the left shoulder. As I drew near he turned and he caught sight of the car. I had described my car to him in great detail after I had bought it, lovingly describing every curve and nuance. As his eyes fell on the small blue car pulling towards the curb he knew without even being able to see my face (the sun was shining behind me and probably presented one hell of a glare) that it was me. A smile broke across his face and he moved towards the car…