But she’s silent beside me, for a long while. Alex was way more talkative than this, and he was a guy.
So getting nervous, I finally ask her, “You okay?” Maybe I’ve lost my touch, too long out of the saddle and all that. My heartbeat becomes wild and unsteady inside my chest when she turns to me. Her face is clouded with uncertainty.
“Mm…can I ask you something?”
I nod my encouragement. “Sure, baby. Anything, you know that.”
She rolls onto her side, staring hard into my eyes. “Don’t get mad, okay?” Those words almost always preface something that will make me furious—I know that much from twelve years in a committed relationship.
“Sure.” I swallow, clearing my throat. “Go on.”
“Okay, this is going to sound lame, but I still need to ask…or I’m afraid that if I don’t ask, that I’m being naive.”
My stomach knots hard because I suddenly have a feeling I know what’s coming; I brace for it like a swerving, oncoming car. “Go on.”
She sighs. “I realize I asked this before…” Her voice trails into nothing.
“Oh, I get it,” I say. “You’re still worried if I’m healthy.” I try to laugh it off, but this moment was all about the romance for me, all about committing myself to her—now it’s all about the Dark Gay Cloud. “A little late for that, Becca, don’t you think?” I ask, feeling sad. “But yeah, sure. I’m healthy.” I try to hide how damned much she’s hurt me.
She told me she was on the pill last week, so I didn’t worry about other forms of contraception. Never even crossed my mind that she would.
“I know this is stupid,” she stammers. “It must seem really stupid, but given your lifestyle…”
“Lifestyle,” I repeat dully, watching the ceiling fan whir soundlessly overhead. “Good euphemism.”
“Okay, I mean that you were gay. For a long time.”
“Baby, if I were gay,” I bark, turning to face her, “then I sure wouldn’t be here in bed with you right now.” I can’t believe that something so sweet—our very first time together—has taken such a lonely turn. I feel defensive, too, like she’s become an outsider pointing the finger at me and my past choices.
“But you are bi,” she continues, reaching to stroke my hair, but I deflect her touch. Her voice gets really quiet and gentle. “Please don’t be mad that I’m asking.”
“Rebecca, I am perfectly healthy. I told you that before.” I roll out of her reach. “Alex was it for me. I’ve told you that. We’ve talked about this.” My anger grows more powerful. “And he sure as hell wasn’t a promiscuous kind of guy. You do realize that a monogamous gay guy is a lot safer than a promiscuous straight one?”
“Still, I worry about all this stuff sometimes,” she continues, drawing in an uneasy breath. “No. No, that’s not it. I don’t worry about you, Michael, because I know you and Alex were fully committed.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “No, what I worry about is that I won’t be…enough. That I won’t be…enough. That I can’t ever be enough, long term.”
I sit up in bed, truly angry for the first time. “Are you shitting me?”
“No, I’m totally serious, Michael,” she says. “I’m a woman and pretty much, historically speaking, it was boys who turned your crank.”
“Alex. I loved Alex.” I blow out a breath, staring at the ceiling. She never knew Alex, can’t know the way he was, his charisma. Can’t know how we were together. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You think I can’t stay straight or something?”
She stares at me, her mouth slightly open. “You’re still in love with him.” What did she think? That I’d let him go?
“I think I’ll always love him,” I answer. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”
She’s still nestled beside me, naked, but I sense her closing down. “Being with me means you don’t betray him,” she says, frowning. It’s like a realization is forming for her. I’m not sure I follow—and I’m not sure I like it.
“Rebecca, he has nothing to do with this.”
She turns to me, a melancholy expression on her face. “He has everything to do with us,” she says. “I’m safe, because I’m not a threat to him. I’m a woman, not another man.”
“You know, I loved a girl once. I mean, other than you. I lost my virginity to her, back up in Virginia. It’s not like I’ve never loved a woman before now. I’m hardly some kid, baby. I’m way older than you, don’t forget.”
“You’re thirty-nine.” The right side of her mouth turns up at the corner with tender amusement. “You’re only six years older than me.”