“What are your expectations?”
“I’ll make myself sick with nerves. Then I’ll do some focusing exercises and try to convince myself I can transform into someone else so completely, my rampant insecurities will be all but invisible.”
She gives me a real smile this time. “Well, that sounds exhausting. How’s Ethan?”
“Irritatingly patient. Understanding. Perfectly calm. About us, anyway. Nervous about the show, of course.”
“It sounds like his patience frustrates you.”
“It does. He makes it look so freaking easy.”
“I’m sure it’s not, but he’s been working on it for a long time. This is only your fifth session. I think you’re doing remarkably well.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’m impressed with how you’re embracing this process.”
“I want to get better.”
“I know. And that’s a fantastic platform upon which to build your recovery.”
I smooth down my skirt for the tenth time. It doesn’t ease my tension. Dr. Kate waits patiently. She knows I’ll start when I’m ready.
“So,” I say, “I dreamed about him again last night. How he used to be. I can see so many parallels to how he was back then to how I am now.”
“How do you see yourself now?”
“Guarded. Desperate to protect myself.”
“Was there a time when you felt you were successful in protecting yourself?”
“After our first breakup, yes. For a while.”
She writes something in her book before looking at me again. “If you were to conjure a mental image of yourself from that time, what would it be?”
I think for a few seconds. “The first time he broke my heart, I tried to make myself into a fortress. A castle with high, impenetrable walls.”
“And what was Ethan in this scenario?”
“He was this … irresistible force, and no matter how high I built my walls, he still managed to find a way in.”
“So you fought to keep him out.”
“Every single day.”
“And when you embarked on a sexual relationship with him again, that became more difficult?”
“Yes.” A thousand times, yes.
“In your analogy, you tried to be impenetrable. What changed?”
Everything.
“He asked me to open the door.”
I wake up to tingling, down low and insistent. Then I register lips on my neck, hands on my breasts, hardness pressing into my butt, and I realize …
Ethan met me at the airport.
Ethan asked if we could try again.
Ethan told me he loved me.
Ethan told me he would stay the night, so he could make love to me in the morning.
Well, it’s morning and … he didn’t leave. Didn’t get scared. And he seems intent on making good on his promise.
I’m encouraged, especially by the way he’s holding me. It’s like he’s been wrapped around me all night and has been holding himself back from touching me like this.
He continues to kiss and suck. I reach behind me and wind my fingers through his hair. When he gently bites my shoulder, I make a mental note to always be woken up this way.
He makes a low, desperate sound as he continues to grind against me, and I want him so much, it’s getting uncomfortable.
“Good morning,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“Hmmm.” His lips vibrate against me as he trails one hand down my stomach, then lower to press against where the tingling is the strongest. I arch into him, and with a minimum of repositioning, he slowly pushes into me.
I hold my breath. The sensation is too much. Then let out a long moan as he exhales against my shoulder.
When we’re fully joined, he says, “Now it’s a good morning.”
He then proceeds to completely redefine how good a morning can be.
Twice.
Dr. Kate writes in her notebook and asks, “So, you took him back?”
“Yes.”
She studies the way I cross and recross my legs. “Was that a hard decision?”
I uncross again and sit with my hands on my knees. “Yes and no. I’d missed him so much, it was a relief to finally let myself have him.”
“But…?”
“But…” This is hard. I’ve spent so long hiding from these feelings, it feels way too raw to talk about them.
“Do you need a moment?”
“No, I’m okay.” I take deep breath. “From the get-go, I was cautious. I was looking for the old him, but at first, he was nowhere to be found.”
Thursday night. Friday. Friday night. Saturday.
He doesn’t go home.
Apart from one trip to buy food, he doesn’t get dressed. Barely leaves my side.
He cooks for me. Naked. His skill in the kitchen is almost as mind-blowing as his skill in the bedroom, and that’s saying something.
On Saturday night, he takes me to a movie. Buys my ticket and everything. Holds my hand and acts like a real boyfriend.
It’s kind of strange, but nice. I don’t let myself enjoy it too much, in case it’s just a passing fad. I mean, we’ve been here before and look how that turned out.
I really hope this time is different.
As soon as the lights go down, he leans over and kisses me. Within ten minutes, my hand is on his crotch, and his mouth is on my neck, and we leave just as things start exploding onscreen.