felt extremely lucky.
“If I ask you to do something for me,” he whispered, “Would you do it?”
“Anything,” I replied instantly, my voice filled with desperation to give to this man whatever he needed or wanted.
“Would you let me watch you with someone else?”
I froze. ‘Anything but that,’ was the first response that popped into my head.
Preston must have sensed how I felt, because he gave me a gentle smile and kissed my forehead. “Sorry, Baby, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. Shocked and now somewhat dazed, I got up and put on a tee-shirt. “I better get going,” I said with a nervous smile, “I have to get Izzie soon.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle, pulling me back to bed, “Please don’t be upset about this. I would never want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” Now he was kissing my collar bone, and I was returning to my desire for the man whom I’d adored unconditionally, pre-threesome suggestion.
He continued, “It’s just that you’re so beautiful. Everything about you. And I would be completely in heaven if I could watch someone else touch you, and then have you for myself.”
I silently said to God, “I promise I will never actually go through with it, but just let me appease this person I’m mad about.” Then I whispered to Preston, who had now begun kissing each of my ribs, “Let me think about it, okay?”
The rest of the morning in bed was still amazing, but I was having difficulty blocking out Preston’s request. The line had been crossed, the boundaries had shifted, and I felt foolish for thinking that I knew Preston, when in reality, he was a stranger. And I was a little bit scared of him now. Not scared because I thought he would force me to do something I didn’t believe in, or that he was a bad person for being into group sex, but afraid to admit the realization Laura had brought to my attention not too long ago.
Preston and I weren’t soul mates. We were not going to get married and live happily ever after. Our relationship was physical and not much else. Not that that was such a bad thing, but I had to face the truth that our time together would be ending someday, and that in and of itself was very scary and sad.
I picked up Isabelle and spent the rest of the day at the pool with her, swimming and relaxing in the hot sun. At the snack bar, she saw a little girl sitting on her dad’s lap and eating an ice-cream cone, and I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes.
“Hey, Izzie?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered, her lower lip quivering.
“Want to talk about something?”
“No, mommy,” she said, “I just want to see my daddy.”
“I know,” I consoled her, lifting her onto my lap, “I know.”
We sat there in silence for a few moments until I said, “Hey, Izzie, I’ll make you a bet. I bet you can’t jump off the high dive.”
“Yes I can!”
“I bet you can’t,” I teased.
“You’re on!” she laughed.
This led us over to the diving boards, and I spent the next hour watching Izzie, who was happy again, not thinking about how she didn’t have a dad, but rather jumping off of the boards, alternating between the high dive and the low dive. As for me, Sam was on my mind the entire time. If he was alive, would we still be married? Who knew? But what I did know is that my daughter would be so much better off if she still had a father. Survivor’s guilt. It was truly exhausting sometimes.
When we got back to our lawn chairs, I received a text. “I can still smell your perfume on me. I love that.” As usual, my heart began to beat and my desire for Preston reignited instantly.
I texted back, “I’m wondering, will I ever get enough?”
“I hope not” he answered.
I smiled while reading the response, but I found myself in somewhat of a fog, finding it difficult to stop thinking about the weird proposal he’d put on the table. Would I ever have a
“If I ask you to do something for me,” he whispered, “Would you do it?”
“Anything,” I replied instantly, my voice filled with desperation to give to this man whatever he needed or wanted.
“Would you let me watch you with someone else?”
I froze. ‘Anything but that,’ was the first response that popped into my head.
Preston must have sensed how I felt, because he gave me a gentle smile and kissed my forehead. “Sorry, Baby, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. Shocked and now somewhat dazed, I got up and put on a tee-shirt. “I better get going,” I said with a nervous smile, “I have to get Izzie soon.”
“Hey,” he said with a chuckle, pulling me back to bed, “Please don’t be upset about this. I would never want you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” Now he was kissing my collar bone, and I was returning to my desire for the man whom I’d adored unconditionally, pre-threesome suggestion.
He continued, “It’s just that you’re so beautiful. Everything about you. And I would be completely in heaven if I could watch someone else touch you, and then have you for myself.”
I silently said to God, “I promise I will never actually go through with it, but just let me appease this person I’m mad about.” Then I whispered to Preston, who had now begun kissing each of my ribs, “Let me think about it, okay?”
The rest of the morning in bed was still amazing, but I was having difficulty blocking out Preston’s request. The line had been crossed, the boundaries had shifted, and I felt foolish for thinking that I knew Preston, when in reality, he was a stranger. And I was a little bit scared of him now. Not scared because I thought he would force me to do something I didn’t believe in, or that he was a bad person for being into group sex, but afraid to admit the realization Laura had brought to my attention not too long ago.
Preston and I weren’t soul mates. We were not going to get married and live happily ever after. Our relationship was physical and not much else. Not that that was such a bad thing, but I had to face the truth that our time together would be ending someday, and that in and of itself was very scary and sad.
I picked up Isabelle and spent the rest of the day at the pool with her, swimming and relaxing in the hot sun. At the snack bar, she saw a little girl sitting on her dad’s lap and eating an ice-cream cone, and I could have sworn I saw tears in her eyes.
“Hey, Izzie?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered, her lower lip quivering.
“Want to talk about something?”
“No, mommy,” she said, “I just want to see my daddy.”
“I know,” I consoled her, lifting her onto my lap, “I know.”
We sat there in silence for a few moments until I said, “Hey, Izzie, I’ll make you a bet. I bet you can’t jump off the high dive.”
“Yes I can!”
“I bet you can’t,” I teased.
“You’re on!” she laughed.
This led us over to the diving boards, and I spent the next hour watching Izzie, who was happy again, not thinking about how she didn’t have a dad, but rather jumping off of the boards, alternating between the high dive and the low dive. As for me, Sam was on my mind the entire time. If he was alive, would we still be married? Who knew? But what I did know is that my daughter would be so much better off if she still had a father. Survivor’s guilt. It was truly exhausting sometimes.
When we got back to our lawn chairs, I received a text. “I can still smell your perfume on me. I love that.” As usual, my heart began to beat and my desire for Preston reignited instantly.
I texted back, “I’m wondering, will I ever get enough?”
“I hope not” he answered.
I smiled while reading the response, but I found myself in somewhat of a fog, finding it difficult to stop thinking about the weird proposal he’d put on the table. Would I ever have a
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