The rooms are set up with half-stadium seating featuring incredibly comfortable recliners, a quarter lounger seating—which are practically beds—and then there’s open-floor seating where you can lay down blankets and cushions.
We didn’t come for the movie that’s currently playing. It’s the next one Oscar wants to see, but this one only has about ten minutes left.
It’s the part where everything is wrapping up. In the hero’s journey, we’re getting into the new normal. Getting a glimpse of the future when he has a family and kids. How happy he is with great friends and a big piece of property.
The American dream, right? The prescribed definition of what makes a fulfilled life. Anything outside of that, and, well, you’re obviously miserable with no purpose.
Except that I want like half of that. Ugh.
I pick my head up to look around. We’re alone, which I’m not entirely surprised by since it’s the middle of the afternoon.
“What’s wrong?” Oscar asks.
I snuggle into him again. We’ve chosen the bed loungers. There’s no better way to watch a giant television than lying down and cuddling comfortably.
“Just making sure I’m not going to bother someone if I talk. Looks like we’re the only ones watching this sappy movie.”
He snorts. “This movie wasn’t the draw. We missed the first half. I’m still not sure what’s going on except apparently, he won.”
I shake my head and adjust so I’m leaning on my arm. “So… I’m ready for kids.”
Oscar raises a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I study his face. “You’re not.” I don’t phrase it as a question.
He doesn’t answer right away, and I sigh. “It’s fine if you’re not. I’ve been thinking and?—”
“Hold on,” Oscar interrupts. “I didn’t say I’m not, but… don’t get upset.”
“Who did you get pregnant?”
He laughs. “Funny. Listen, my love, I just want to make sure that you’re ready for kids and not thinking about them now as a means to further excuse why you’ve given up looking for love.”
“Oz, stop. I appreciate that you’re concerned and want me to be happy, but it might be time we both admit that maybe it’s just not in the cards for me. Not everyone gets everything they want.”
“Alka, I don’t want you to stop looking. I don’t want you to live the rest of your life without having everyone you’re supposed to love.”
“I love you,” I tell him. “I love you more than anything in the entire world. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be—me and you and babies. However, I’m a little irritated that you think I’msaying I’m ready for babies as a means to… distract myself from the reality that I’m just not going to find a second husband to love. But it’sokay. As much as I believe that I have enough love for two men and that I want to love two men, I’m not unhappy, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, or what-the-fuck-ever else that we’re accused of. I love you. I want babies. The only answer I need from you is whether you’re ready too or not.”
Oscar stares at me, and I wonder if my good show was believed. I’m not going to win any Emmys or anything, and I’m sure my defensiveness didn’t help my case.
It’s not entirely a lie, though. Yes, I’ve been holding off on babies because I’ve wanted my complete throuplebeforekids. Admitting that throuple might not happen means that there’s no reason to wait.
I don’t exactly have prospects. I get it. It takes a specific kind of person to be in a polyamorous relationship thatincludesa sex worker. Even if a third person is only with me romantically and physically, there will obviously need to be a relationship of sorts with Oscar. He’s my husband. It would be stupid and naïve to think they’d never interact.
Considering I’ve always wanted the three of us to live together, that’s a thing.
It’s been a point of contention in the past, more times than I can count, and it’s ended more than one of my relationships.
“Alright,” Oscar says. “I think we need a bigger discussion than just yes or no considering it’s not like we can just stop using protection and see what nature has in store.”
I roll my eyes and lie back down. Oscar’s fingers move into my hair. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
“No. I’m sorry I got defensive. I know that you always want me to have everything. I think we spend a lot of time making sure that we give each other whatever we want simply because we like to make each other happy. This is something out of your control, and you struggle with that.”
“I feel very transparent,” Oscar says, bemused. “I’ve literallyhad those exact thoughts over the last week. Actually, I’ve had them a lot over the years but more so this last week when I realized that you’re no longer putting yourself out there.”
“Maybe Ihavestopped,” I admit. “I won’t agree that I’m necessarily admitting defeat, but… I’m tired, Oz. And let’s be real, I don’t want to be eighty with a ten-year-old. If I’m meant for the throuple I’ve always wanted, I think I’m just going to need to trust that it’s going to happen at some point and stop putting the next chapter of our life on hold. Don’t you?”
