“Sorry. It’s just that I’ve read the damn thing a billion times too. That’s all.”
He nodded but didn’t get sidetracked. “Before I ask anything else, can you tell me what parts are true? It’s obvious there are some lies, but I can’t tell on all of it.”
That question I hadn’t expected. “You don’t believe it all?”
He gave a painful-looking shrug. “It said you have a temper and are abusive. I know that’s not you. It wasn’t when we were kids, and I’ve not seen any glimpse of it now. So it’s left me unclear on what the real story is.”
“Oh.” I’d barely noticed that part. Much more worried about everything else in the article. “Yeah. That part isn’t true.”
Noah nodded, then stared at me expectantly.
God, this was horrid. “Um. The rest pretty much is. True, that is. All of it.”
Noah opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. He finally broke his gaze away and searched around the room. “Okay.”
I rushed onward, my words tumbling out, sounding weak and pathetic to my own ears. “I wasn’t looking at it quite like that. I was giving massages and making sure the guys knew they were paying for the massage, not for anything sexual that happened. And I didn’t have sex with the ones I didn’t want to. So I wasn’t taking money just for sex.”
He looked back at me, the expression on his face either confusion or disbelief, I couldn’t tell which. “But… is it fair to say you had sex with most of them?”
I couldn’t help but cringe. “Yeah. I suppose so. The ones I didn’t want to play around with didn’t come back, so it mostly stopped being an issue. I told myself that I wasn’t being a whore. Just a slut. You know. I got paid for the massage, not the sex.”
Again he just stared at me.
I looked down at where I was tangling my hands in my lap. “I know it’s not a real distinction. I wasn’t on the street corner or anything, but I guess it was pretty much the same thing.” I hated the sound of my voice, the shame in it. The weakness. I forced myself to meet Noah’s eyes and tried to keep the defiance out of my tone, but mostly failed. “I wouldn’t have been too ashamed to have even called it that. At least if the issue was pressed. Like it is now. I don’t see anything wrong with being a prostitute. At least if you’re of age and it’s something you want to do. I know that’s not how it is for lots of people. They get forced into it or whatever. But if that’s not the case, if you enjoy it, who is it hurting? You know?” I faltered then. Very clear, suddenly, on whom it was hurting.
Noah nodded slowly. When he spoke, his voice was even quieter than before. “I do know. At least in theory. And I agree with you.”
I flinched, certain I’d heard wrong. “You what?”
He almost smiled. I swear he did. “I agree with you. I don’t have a problem with two consenting adults doing whatever they want to do. Whether or not money is exchanged.”
Part of me wasn’t surprised. That belief made sense with the other changes I’d seen in Noah. We both seemed to have arrived at similar places. It made me want to jump to asking him if we were okay, then. That it wasn’t that big of a deal. I kept my mouth shut.
Noah didn’t give me much of a chance to respond, anyway. “Have you been doing massage since we’ve been together?”
“No! God no!” I was almost relieved to have a question I could say no to. “I’ve not done anything with anybody besides you.”
“Do you want to? Do you miss it?”
I didn’t expect that question either. It took me off guard enough that I paused. Did I miss it? Maybe the thrill of it at times. Though the thrill wore off years ago. “No. I don’t miss it. And you’re the only one I want to have sex with.” I couldn’t believe how true those words were.
“Well, we’ve still never nailed down if we’re going to be monogamous or not.”
“I’ve only had sex with you, Noah. You’re the only one I want.”
Again he nodded. “Me too. But will you tell me if that changes? I don’t have a problem with open relationships, or at least I didn’t think I did, but I’m not sure I can handle the thought of you being with someone else.”
“I don’t want to be, but yeah, I promise.” The conversation we were having hit me then. “Wait. You’re talking future ‘us.’ Like you’re not leaving me.”
A sad smile crossed his face. “I’m not leaving you. I wasn’t lying when I said we are meant to be.”
“Yeah, but you also said people could fuck up things that are meant to be.”God, shut up, Randall!I might as well be trying to talk him out of staying.
“True. But this isn’t that.”
Despite my best effort, I felt a tear roll down my cheek. If we could get through this, I couldn’t imagine what would cause him to walk away. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
