Page 38 of Ardently Yours

The other box contains a blue waterproof silicone vibrator shaped like a—even in my head I can’t say it out loud. It comes out as a ridiculous whisper.

“Penis, Charlotte,” I mutter. “It’s a penis. If you can’t say it, how the heck are you going to be able to do this?”

We can’t be graphic in our emails. It made it easy to give Arden the impression I’m confident with my sexuality.Does wishing I were count?

Sexual inhibitions are hard to shake when you grow up in a place like Blackwater. The culture surrounding sexuality sinks into your psyche in unexpected ways. Churches around here still pressure teenagers into wearing “promise” rings and vowing to never have sex out of marriage. Meanwhile, they blame girls for tempting men and leading them astray.

My family and closest friends supported me when I reported Polford, but for years there were people who tried to convince me that even if he did “stumble,” it was my fault. Then I became an unwed mother in a place where so many people here took it as confirmation that I was a “fallen woman.”

Iknowit isn’t true. I worked on thoughts like that with my counselor. But deep down, there’s still a well of reserve inside me that I want to push past, if I can only figure out how to do it.

Right now, a hidden puritanical corner of my mind is fighting against the bigger part of me that thinks sexual release is healthy.

With Steve, it wasn’t so much that I let go of my inhibitions as I rationalized them. I knew I was safe with him. He’d stop at the slightest sign I was uncomfortable, and we’d already told each other we were in love. In my mind, I was making love to my husband.

This is different. It’s not me getting swept up in a moment. I’m about to have phone sex with a man who isn’t technically even my boyfriend.

But I’m not hurting anyone, and masturbation isn’t dirty. Arden will talk me through it, and it’s going to be fun.

The sight of my trembling fingers fills me with a jolt of determination. Steve’s engagement ring twinkles on my finger, the diamond so tiny that it’s little more than a chip. I loved it from the first moment I saw it. I rarely remove it, even to sleep, but I'm not an engaged woman any longer. I blow out a breath and slide the ring off.

The world doesn’t implode. The sky doesn’t fall. My feelings for Steve weren’t confined inside a diamond, and our past hasn’t been erased just because my future lies somewhere else.

For now, I set the ring on a small jewelry dish on the bathroom counter. Later, I’ll put it in the box of mementos I’ve saved for Bronnie.

Following the directions in Arden’s note, I run myself a bubble bath and light a few candles for ambience.

After I’ve removed my clothing, I sink into the tub with the phone and toy situated nearby on a small set of plastic shelves. Then I dial Arden’s number and lift the phone to my ear.

He answers on the first ring. “Charlotte.” His voice is almost a purr, and my nipples harden in response.

“Yes, sir.” It’s supposed to be a sassy tease to show him I’m plenty sophisticated, thank you very much. Instead, it comes out wavery and breathy. Every single piece of anxiety I’m feeling is loaded into those two syllables.

“Happy twenty-fourth birthday. Did you have cake at your parents’?”

It takes me a moment to formulate my answer. I thought we’d jump straight to “Are you naked?” “Yes. It was nice. They had a cookout. My siblings brought their spouses and kids. How did you spend your evening?”

“The boys and I worked on martial arts training. Gabriel earned his green belt, and Henry earned a junior brown belt tonight.”

His tone makes me smile. “You’re adorable when you’re smug.”

“I’m a fully grown adult male. I haven’t been adorable since I was six. Think of my ego, Charlotte,” he teases.

“Oh, right. I forgot you need stroking. I meant to say, ‘You sound so smoking hot when you’re smug.’” I say the last words woodenly, as if I’m reading a script.

He barks out a laugh, and I grin, sinking deeper into the tub and running a hand through the rose-scented bubbles. “Just a tip for next time. It would be better to pick a day when you don’t send other gifts with your adult presents. It was a race to vet them before Bronnie’s curiosity got the better of her. Three-year-olds are notoriously nosey.”

“Does that mean you’re interested in receiving more gifts of the adult variety?”

His tone of fake, detached curiosity makes me smile. “No, because you’re not allowed to send me random gifts for no reason.”

“Oh, I’d have a reason.”

I snort. I can almost see his eyebrows waggle.

“Thank you for the flowers. I love them.”

“You should let me send them every week.”

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