Page 90 of The Plus One Pact

"And the girl on girl?"

"The way women are tender," he says. "And loving. A lot of amateur—or fake amateur—stuff is gentle. I like seeing that. The affection. The softness. The time. They aren't putting on a show. They're really there, in the moment."

"And you can't see yourself in that, either," I say.

He nods.

"Why do you think that is?" I bite my tongue. "Sorry. Therapist mode."

"Maybe that's a new fantasy of mine," he says. "My sex therapist finding me so hot she breaks all her rules." He smiles. "Or is that too fucked up for you?"

"Too real." I nod. "But I can understand the appeal. That your darkest thoughts are so enticing they make someone risk their career, violate their ethics."

"Have you ever wanted a client?"

"I've found clients attractive," I say. "I've gotten lost in their description of sex and found it appealing. But I've never wanted a client that way. There's something about the relationship that makes it feel wrong. Not just morally, but sexually too, I guess. I'm entrusted to care for them and caring for someone just isn't sexy." I bite my lip. "If that doesn't make me seem too cold."

"Because you don't want to screw your clients?"

"Because I didn't like caring for my husband," I say.

Something in his gaze shifts. Away from sexy, to something serious. "Did he have health issues?"

"No more than anyone else," I say. "It was more the typical domestic labor. Sure, I enjoyed cooking for the two of us, but that was it. I didn't find any joy in cleaning after. Or doing his laundry. Or paying the bills. I didn't feel any satisfaction in keeping a home."

"Do most people?" he asks.

"I do, when it's for myself," I say. "When it's my space."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, in the abstract," I say. "But it's not great for partnership."

"Did you always feel that way?" he asks. "Or only once things were hard?"

"I don't know." It was worse, when things were hard, I guess. I've always enjoyed getting things done, and keeping the space tidy, but I've never really wanted people in my space. Only very close friends and family. And even then, I want my alone time after a while. "I suppose I liked some things about sharing a life, at first. Having company. Decorating the house together. Going to the grocery store and wandering the aisles. It turned chores into a fun shared activity."

"Sounds like a partnership."

It does.

"Maybe you didn't like being put to work."

I didn't. "Something tells me your mom won't like that."

"She might not admit it, but she'd understand it," he says. "Things weren’t always perfect with my father. She acts like they were, now that he’s gone, but they fought plenty. The had hard times."

"Did she talk about it?"

"No, she never let on, but I could tell. He was…traditional. She was too. She still is, in some ways."

She doesn't let on to any lack of faith in the institution, but she doesn't seem interested in firm gender roles either.

Or is that part of Cynthia's problem? Maybe Daniel expects her to stay home to raise her kids. Which is great—if that's what she wants.

If it's not—

It's hard for women who want children. They don't have any great options. Either they focus on their careers, and they're criticized as bad moms, or they focus on their kids, and they're called gold diggers. Worse, they're left totally dependent on their husbands.