“Fuck. I know, I know you’re right. I don’t know why I lied. Fuck,” he says again, flinging his back against the couch and grabbing a pillow against his stomach.
“We can go together. We’ll explain everything. If she wants nothing to do with either of us, then so be it. There will be other women.”
“She was just,” he says, shaking his head. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. You’re right. I have to come clean before we sleep together again. I’m not even sure I could get hard with this weight on my conscience.”
“I mean, you did it the first time,” I joke.
“I deserve that. That was before I knew how good it was,” he says, resting his head and looking at me.
“How was Sunday dinner?” I ask, trying to change the topic and let myself process everything.
“Ugh. The usual. Mom’s trying to pimp me out to some woman again. Jessa finished our shirt design. It’s in our email. Lincoln was cranky per usual, and our niece reminded me why I never want to have kids.”
“Indeed, the usual.”
“You know, I thought you were going to be more pissed than this,” he says, and I shrug.
“She’s just a woman. You’re my brother. I just want you to be okay.”
“You’ll really come with me?”
“Of course, but the next three captains that cancel, you’re covering their shifts,” I say, pushing his shoulder, shoving him into the corner of the couch. “I’m going to bed, we’ll figure out a game plan later.”
Ben gives me a small smile, but doesn’t get off the couch as I make my way over to my bedroom. Alone in my room, I’m allowed to let myself feel the frustration of what my brother did. Here I’m allowed to have the selfish thoughts I wouldn’t tell him.
Like most things, I’ll let this go.
It’s easier to not dwell on shit, to not let it get to you. Because when you let things get under your skin, you’re no longer the one in control.
I’m always in control.
I’ll get it sorted, just like I always do.
10
NO CRYING IN A SEX CLUB
Since my divorce,I’ve been curating my life around my wants and it’s been freeing. The only person I have to worry about is me, along with the only person I need to please.
For the first time in my life, the decor in my house is everything I like.
The nude Maria Szanth painting I purchased five years ago is now proudly on display in my foyer. My books are on shelves, on the floor, on my nightstand, truly wherever the fuck I want them to be.
Hell, I even have a cat room. Will was allergic to cats, and now I have four: Frida, Berthe, Edvard, and Michelangelo.
I have a good job, one that I love and I’m passionate about.
Then, there’s the copious amount of free time I have.
Usually, I consider it a blessing. I can go out with my friends when I want, read till my eyes can’t form a word on a page anymore, or binge watch an entire season of a show in a day.
Maybe it’s the heat of the summer or the fact that all my friends have been busy doing various things. But for the first time since my divorce, I feel lonely. Not in the sense that I wanta relationship or need someone by my side twenty-four seven, I just need some human interaction.
During the school year, this isn’t a problem. I spend so much time at the university, lecturing, talking, and just being around people. I wouldn’t consider myself an extrovert, but I’m not completely introverted either. I love my alone time, but I also really enjoy talking and having fun with others.
As much as I love escaping into a good book or a good show, nothing seems to shake this feeling, so I’m going to push myself to be brave.
Being consciously single shouldn’t mean that I need other people to do things. Hell, I went to a sex club by myself and look how that turned out? Amazingly.
