Ivy sent Hope a side-eye. “What makes you think I have boy drama?” she asked through a mouth full of noodles. “Do you know me at all?”
“Yes. I do know you, Ivy. In fact, I wager that I know you better than anyone. So, I think I’m spot on when I say that something is bugging you, and that something is a man.”
“More like lack of man,” Ivy muttered, tossing the empty takeout carton onto the coffee table and reaching for the wine. She gestured to Hope’s glass with the bottle in offering.
Hope glanced at her empty wineglass, then at the bottle, then back at her wineglass. Finally, she shrugged. “What the hell. After another negative test this morning, I might as well enjoy a glass or two.”
A sharp sting of guilt filled Ivy, followed by an even more needling pity. Here she was feeling sorry for herself, as usual, when her friend was dealing with her own heartache.
“I’m sorry, Hope,” she said sympathetically, as she poured golden liquid into her glass.
Hope and Gabe had married over the summer in a small ceremony along the Oregon coast. Gabe was a widower with an adorable daughter, Ruby, but Hope and Gabe were eager to expand their family. They’d been trying since the spring, but with no success.
Hope blew out a frustrated sigh. “It’s so funny, you know. I spent most of my sexually active life doing everything possible not to get pregnant. I assumed…” she gestured haphazardly toward the TV where a dozen men were vying for the attention of the one woman—dressed in red silk—who sat among them, “that we’re all one Fantasy Suite away from an unplanned pregnancy. But then when you actually want it to happen…” She shrugged helplessly. “It never occurred to me that it would be hard, you know?”
Ivy didn’t know. The possibility of having children was so far off her radar, she’d never thought about it. She was on the pill, but beyond that she didn’t even think about pregnancy, preventing it or otherwise, and since sex wasn’t on her radar either, it was currently one worry she didn’t have. Which was all part of her bigger problem, she knew. But for now, she placed a comforting hand on Hope’s shoulder, rubbing gently. Her problems could wait. Her sympathy needed to be with her best friend.
“Look, I can’t pretend to know anything about what you’re going through. But I’m here to listen. Maybe these things take time?” She had no idea if that was the right thing to say. No idea what the right thing was, but Hope sniffed a little and offered a small smile.
“You’re right. That’s what Gabe says too. That it takes time sometimes, that there’s no rush. And I know that. We have Ruby, and she’s such a gift to us. I need to focus on the good stuff. A baby will come when it’s ready. Or not.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, even though it was obvious that it mattered a whole lot.
“It will.” She wished she could guarantee that Hope would get everything she wanted in life. More than anyone else that Ivy knew, Hope deserved happiness the most.
Hope nodded, but a big tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, so Ivy pulled her into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” Hope cried into Ivy’s shoulder so that the words were muffled. “I know other couples have struggled much longer and have things much harder. I don’t know why it’s getting to me this much.”
Ivy rubbed her friend’s back soothingly. “Because you want it that much, Hope. Sure, everyone has a different experience, but this one is yours, and right now it’s scary and it sucks. It’s okay to feel all the feels on this one.”
After a minute, Hope pulled back and swiped the tears from her face with her palm. “Okay, pity party over. Thanks for that. It feels good to let it out once in a while.” She used a napkin to mop up the rest of her wayward tears. “But back to you now. You were saying something about lack of men?”
Somehow, it didn’t seem right to be discussing the frivolities of her romantic life, or lack thereof, when her friend was dealing with a heartache of her own. “I wasn’t really saying anything. I want to talk about you more,” she said, mostly because Hope deserved the time and space to talk about the things that bothered her, but also, selfishly, so that Ivy didn’t have to talk about the things that botheredher.
Hope shook her head adamantly, her eyes dry and clear. “Nope, I’m done. I got it out. It’s frustration more than anything right now. It’ll happen eventually. In the meantime, Gabe and I will have fun trying.” She winked on a smile. Ivy’s glass-half-full best friend was back on the saddle. “So, you want a man, Ivy?” Hope asked with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.
“No,” came the automatic response. A cop-out more than anything, and she knew it. She also knew that if she wanted anything in her life to change, she’d have to stop with the cop-outs. “Maybe,” she added begrudgingly.
“Any man, or one man in particular?” Hope asked, and Ivy knew immediately to whom she was referring.
She wasn’t ready to go there, so instead she answered with another truth. “Maybe it’s not so much that I want a man. Maybe it’s more that I’m tired of being afraid to go for it.”
Hope was silent, listening serenely as she sipped her wine. The silence allowed Ivy’s train of thought to flow out of her.
“I thought I had it all behind me. I thought that if I made myself strong and learned how to defend myself, then I wouldn’t be afraid, but what I didn’t count on were all the other things I would still be afraid of that have nothing to do with being attacked.”
There were a handful of people who knew that Ivy had been sexually assaulted in college. Hope was one of them. She’d been there the night it happened, and in the aftermath, and for every moment since.
She was as much a part of this journey as Ivy, so Ivy knew Hope spoke with deep understanding when she gently said, “You mean like trust. Intimacy.” She set her glass on the coffee table. “Sex.”
Ivy dropped her gaze to her lap and nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It’s not like I don’t ever want to have sex again. Heck, I’m just as horny as most twenty-somethings. I see someone I like, and I want to jump on them like any other hot-blooded person.” Namely, she wanted to jump on a certain six-foot-five, amazingly muscled but gentle-hearted, specimen of a man who’d been the only one in recent history who got her juices going. “It’s been a long while, and the last time was, well, against my will and, you know, ugly, so it’s scary to think about going there again. Even if I want to.”
“Of course it is,” Hope acknowledged. “So maybe it’s time you took a leap of faith and worked toward overcoming those fears.”
Ivy looked at her dubiously. “Overcome my fear of sex?” She wasn’t sure it was possible. How was she ever supposed to go there again with a man and not have it tainted by the horribleness of the past?
Hope nodded. “Yes, and your fear of intimacy. Build on your ability to trust.” She spoke so calmly and assuredly that it sounded almost easy. “Take back your sexuality, Ivy.”
“How am I supposed to do that? I can’t walk up to someone and say ‘Hey, you’re hot and you seem like a nice guy too. Wanna do it?’”
