His shirt was long enough to cover me. Barely. I debated sleeping in my jeans, but that idea actually did make me feel claustrophobic, so I just got under the covers as quickly as I could to keep from accidentally flashing him.
When Jacob got in, his entire left side was pressed into my body. After some awkward, apologetic shifting that seemed to be mutually geared at keeping his penis as far away from me as possible, we agreed to sleep back to back. It would have been easier to let him spoon me, or for him to lie on his back with me sleeping curled up next to him in the crook of his arm, but there was no way I was doing either. It was waaaaay too slippery a slope.
My knees were halfway off the bed. I’m sure his knees were halfway off the bed.
He cleared his throat. “You know, we’d fit better if we—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off.
He spoke over his shoulder. “We hug all the time. It’s not sexual.”
I had to hold back a maniacal laugh. “It’s not that. I’m just…really claustrophobic,” I lied. “I can’t have someone hugging me right now or it’ll make it worse.”
He was quiet for a beat. “Okay.” He went back to facing his side of the room. And then over his shoulder again, “Do you want to stay up and talk for a little while? It might be hard for you to sleep if you’re anxious.”
I let out a long breath. Then I rolled onto my back and he rolled onto his.
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked.
“You could ask me one of your weird questions.”
“My questions are not weird,” I said, lisping through my stupid retainer.
He propped himself up on his elbow. “‘Would you rather drink toilet water or eat dirty kitty litter?’ That’s not weird?”
“That was an excellent ice breaker, meant to get to the core of who you are as a person.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes were creased at the corners.
“Well, what about your questions? They suck too.”
“My questions are great. You just don’t take them seriously.”
I gasped. “I have taken every question you’ve asked me seriously.” Major lisp on seriously.
He looked amused. “Really? Your near-death experience was when your thighs were rubbing together at Disney World on your twenty-fifth birthday—”
“I WAS FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE, JACOB.”
He laughed and his chest rumbled against my arm. It rumbled everywhere. He was so close.
We were alone…
I swear his eyes flickered to my mouth for a second and I had the brief realization that if he kissed me right now, I wouldn’t say no. I couldn’t. It was like I was under some spell. I had just enough strength to hold my ground, but not enough to save me if he advanced. I prayed that Jacob would be Jacob tonight and be respectful. He always was. But what if he wasn’t?
A very specific part of me was hoping he wasn’t. My traitorous vagina was putting on war paint and blowing a Viking horn like it was about to go ransack Jacob’s village.
I cleared my throat. “These get-to-know-you questions are very important for our fake relationship.”
“And what exactly did you learn by asking me what kind of mullet I’d be?”
“I learned your hair grows out curly and you have a great laugh?”
He cracked up again. He was still smiling when he went on. “You should ask me real things. Things with substance.”
“You’re not ready for my substance questions. Believe me. They’re extremely invasive.”
He adjusted himself on his elbow. “Try me.”
I sat up on my elbow and looked at him. “You can’t handle it.”
“I can.”
I narrowed my eyes. “No.”
I lay back down.
“What? What do you mean, no?”
“No. I don’t have a kiddie pool, Jacob. I go right from Would You Rather to the deep end. It’s Truth or Dare on steroids. We’re not there. We might never be there.”
“Just so I’m understanding what your hesitation is, you think I won’t be willing to answer the heavy questions you might ask me.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“I will.”
I lolled my head to look at him.
He peered at me steadily. “I mean it. Ask me whatever you want. What do you want to know?”
I sat up against the headboard. “I want to know what’s in your search history.”
“What?” He laughed.
I shrugged. “That’s what I want to know. It’s worth a thousand questions.”
This was when he was going to bail. No way was this man letting me see what weird porn he liked to watch.
“Okay.” He sat up, reached for his phone on the nightstand, and handed it to me.
I stared at it in shock. “Uh…”
“My password is 7438.”
I was literally rendered speechless.
“Why would you agree to this? I was just calling your bluff.”
He looked me in the eye. “There’s nothing about me that I’m afraid for you to know.”
I just stared back at him.
My heart felt tight and I couldn’t even explain why—but then I knew why. Because for so many years my own husband made himself a stranger to me. He had a whole double life I knew nothing about. And here was this man who wanted me to see him. All of him. He didn’t want any secrets between us. He just gave me his damn PIN.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and handed it to him. “Then you get to see mine too. My password is 9008.”
“Okay. And just so you know, I don’t ever change my password,” he said.
“Okay.”
“That means that you’ll always have access to my phone. And my debit card.”
I gawked at him. “Jacob! You just gave me your debit card PIN? You cannot give that out.”
He gave me an amused look. “Why? I can’t trust you?”
“Of course you can trust me.” I lisped hard on the word trust and he smiled.
“Well, if I can trust you, then what’s the problem?”
I let a breath out through my nose. “Your bank PIN shouldn’t be the same PIN as your phone. It should be two separate PINs.”
“Okay.” He took his phone from me and did a few swipes. He thumbed something in, then he handed it back to me. “There. I changed my password. Now it’s the same one as yours.”
“Jacob!”
“What?” He was laughing. “Now you won’t forget it.”
“Why would I need to know your password?”
“To check a text for me while I’m driving, to open my phone to take a picture, to look at my calendar to see if we’re available on the same day—”
I gave him a look.
“What? We’re spending a lot of time together. There’s going to be a situation when you’ll need to get into my phone. If you don’t want to use it, don’t ever use it, but at least you’ll have it if you need it.”
I peered down at the cell in my hand and I felt my face contort the tiniest bit and I realized a lump was rising in the back of my throat. I stared at the black screen so long he noticed.
“Are you okay?” he asked, dipping his head to look at me.
No? Not even a little?
I guess this was going to be the first heavy truth I volunteered as part of this exercise.
“I didn’t know my husband’s PIN,” I admitted quietly. “Because he gaslighted me into thinking I was paranoid and controlling for asking for it.”
I raised my gaze to his and watched understanding move across his face.
“You and me?” he said gently. “We’re different. We agree to be harmless to each other.”