“I am not,” I shoot back.
“You are.”
“Wilder.” I sit taller, growing frustrated with him. “I am?—”
“I see that you’re arguing,” Sanders says, coming into the room. “And I know you asked for privacy, but I think that it’s important I’m a part of these conversations. So”—he takes a seat in his chair—“please, tell me what you’re arguing about.”
I glance over at Wilder, panic filling me, but of course, he apparently has no sense of anxiety, because he crosses one leg over the other and casually says, “She hates our cabin, and she’s mad at me for filling out the application incorrectly.”
Okay, well, that’s a truthful answer.
“I see,” Sanders says and then reaches into his seat cushion and pulls out a baseball.
Ahh, there we are.
He tosses it in his hand and says, “Why did you lie on the application?”
“Simple,” Wilder says flippantly. “I filled it out to inspire us, to remind us of the couple we used to be.”
How this man can just lie so casually is fascinating and scary at the same time. It makes me wonder why I’m trusting him to go through this journey with me.
Yet here I am, going along with it.
Sanders turns to me and says, “What does he mean by that?”
Christ.
Swallowing the saliva that has built up in my mouth, I say, “Uh, we used to be, uh, hot and heavy, in the bedroom.”
“I see,” Sanders says and then tilts his head to the side. “Does that make you uncomfortable, saying that?”
This entire situation makes me uncomfortable.
Everything about it.
From the camp.
To the lies.
To the fleshy sword in the shower.
“Yes,” I answer. “I’m not proud of the fact that our love life isn’t what it used to be.”
“And what did it used to be?” Sanders asks.
I’m about to answer when Wilder steps in. “Wild. Out of control. Couldn’t get her off me even if I wanted to. Addicted to my penis.”
My cheeks flush, and I grind my teeth together, attempting to remain calm.
A simple “active” would have sufficed.
“Addicted to your penis seems a little much,” I say, clearing my throat to avoid showing how much I want to shove my foot in Wilder’s mouth.
“Says the girl who made a mold of my penis so she could have it when I was gone on work trips.”
My lips purse, and my jaw tenses.
He turns to Sanders and says, “She uses it when I’m gone. Used to send me pics of her using it.”
