“Yep. Just a moment ago, actually.” She said as she finally sat straight up. Moving away from him on the couch.
“I welcome your take,” I waited for her to say what she had on her mind.
“When you asked if we could live without it. The answer is easily yes, if we have to. But I don’t think we have to. Tim should be free to have girls do whatever they want to him and each other while he sips a beer and watches the Cleveland Browns, and I could explore my desires just as freely. We’ve already survived what would have broken most marriages. But I think we should do it with stipulations.”
Hell, she had both of our curiosities piqued because neither of us said anything. Just waited for her to finish that thought.
“I think we should have the choice to have a solo experience once, maybe…. twice a year. Guilt-free. Real planning, real preparation. And not twenty-four hours. A realistic time frame. Because unless you’re on those gas station pills, then it just doesn’t make sense from a physical standpoint. A weekend for sure. Neither of us has to, but there’ll be no hard feelings if one chooses not to and the other still goes. Needs and desires are ever-changing. We could satisfy those that way.”
Her husband didn’t say a word. He just stared at her with a blank expression. I noticed that he always let her lead on conversations about the arrangements, and I knew why. She wasn’t necessarily calling the shots. He was just in murky territory. If he was too eager, he was the bad guy. His silence was calculated, not a sign of submission.
I wrote down the requirements she said.
“Does this have an expiration date? How do you know when enough is enough?” I subtly reminded Breeze of her concern about it being long-term.
She wasn’t prepared for that question. I could see it written on her face. But then she thought about it, eyes going around the office until they landed back on me.
“When we decide to be parents, I couldn’t imagine leaving a kid with the nanny while we go out and do stuff like this.” She shrugged.
Nodding, I diverted my gaze to her husband. “What about you? Are you okay with the experience? Do you have anything to add?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. But nah, I don’t have anything to add.” He shook his head like I imagined he would. His wife just told him it was okay for him to have a threesome every year. How could he argue with that? But I had to extend him the same courtesy I would extend her, with a follow-up question.
“Are you okay because you don’t want to feel like you’re limiting what Mrs. Thompson wants, or are you okay because this is also what you want?” I asked.
“Nah, I said it’s okay because I want it too, but I’m also not going to pressure her into anything.” He made it clear. Even when he said it, I could see his shoulders straighten. He was confident in his answer. It almost confirmed what I knew to be true.
I glanced down at the clock. There were four minutes left until the session ended.
“Understood. We’re nearing the end of the session. Here’s what we’renotgoing to do today. You’re not deciding on terms, you’re not agreeing to timelines, none of that. Especially not for a decision made on the spur of the moment during the session. If you can devote another week to sitting on it before making a decision, then I think that’s best. You don’t have to scheduleanother session, unless you feel you need to. But this waiting period is strictly for the two of you.”
Breeze picked up her purse from her side and glanced at her husband. He slid to the end of the sofa, stood, and helped her up.
“We can do that, appreciate it,” he said, extending his hand, and I took it.
Then Breeze did the same, “Thank you again, Dr. Long.”
“No problem. Before you go. I’d like to keep the answers to those questions for your file, if that’s alright.”
Timothy nodded and handed his over immediately. Breeze hesitated, just a second longer than necessary, and then handed hers over to me, too.
“Thank you,” I said, sliding them into my notepad, and watched as they walked out the door hand in hand.
The alarm rang just as the door closed, and I silenced it and clicked the calendar. I was thankful that my next session wasn’t for another thirty minutes. That could at least slow me down from the morning rush and give me a chance to log some of my observations while they were still fresh.
Sitting in my chair, I opened the first piece of paper; it was from Mr. Thompson. It was exactly what I had expected, short and careful answers.
I skimmed over it and placed it aside.
Then I unfolded Breeze’s.
At first glance, it mirrored what she had read aloud. Same questions and same structure. But halfway down, I noticed something that she had omitted. It wasn’t crossed out, wasn’t erased; she just simply did not say it out loud. Her response toWhat I need.
One line caused me to pause. Her response was. “I need respect to wait in the hallway while we’re in the bedroom.”
Of course you do, baby,I laughed out loud and folded it back.
I sat back in the chair and tapped the pen on my desk. That one line didn’t have anything to do with rules or desires. That came from her memory. She knew exactly why she had written it, and it was the same reason why she chose not to read it out loud.
