Page 44 of Under Southern Stars
“Jack, that’s…are you sure? Meeting your family, that’s a big step.”
“Already told them about you.” At her surprised look, I add quickly, “Just that I’m seeing someone. Someone special.”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
“That you’re brilliant. Beautiful. Raise an amazing daughter. Run an entire ER without breaking a sweat.” I pause. “Left out the bit about you making me walk into walls when you wear that black dress.”
She laughs. “Smooth.”
“So? What do you think? Week and a half in New Zealand? Show Madison some sheep, let her try proper fish and chips, maybe do some wine tasting?”
“Wine tasting?” She raises an eyebrow. “At your family’s ‘property’?”
My stomach drops slightly. “Well, the whole region’s known for wine. Lots of places to visit.”
“Uh-huh.” But she’s smiling. “Madison would love it. She’s been dying to travel somewhere since the Costa Rica thing fell through.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I need to check work schedules…I might have to have someone pick up a couple shifts from me, but…yes. God, yes. Time away from Troy and his lectures sounds like heaven.”
“Speaking of Troy…” I hesitate. “Can I ask something? You don’t have to answer.”
“About the marriage?”
“About how he…treated you.”
She’s quiet for a moment, watching a sailboat glide past. “It wasn’t always bad. At first, he was charming. Ambitious. I thought his confidence was attractive.”
“What changed?”
“He discovered podcasts.” She says it so dryly I almost laugh. “Started listening to all these ‘alpha male’ influencers. Suddenly everything was about dominance and traditional gender roles and how feminism was destroying society.”
“Christ.”
“He decided that since I made more money, I was emasculating him. Butalsothat I should do all the houseworkbecause that was ‘women’s work.’ The mental gymnastics were impressive.”
“How very modern of him.”
“The worst part was the bedroom stuff,” she says quietly, looking out at the water. “He…he refused to go down on me. Said it would ‘make him gay.’”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Hewhat?”
“Yeah. Receiving was fine, of course. But giving? That was ‘submissive’ and ‘emasculating.’” She shakes her head. “I spent years thinking I was asking for too much.”
“What a fucking cunt.”
Sophia gasps, hand flying to her mouth. “Jack!”
“Sorry, I—” I ran a hand through my hair. “Cultural thing. We use that word more casually in New Zealand. Like calling someone a right bastard.”
“It’s just…that word here is…” She’s actually blushing.
“Did you know it’s one of the oldest words in the English language? Goes all the way back to Chaucer and Middle English. ‘Queynte,’ they called it.” I grin at her surprised expression. “Four years of literature courses at uni. Had to be good for something.”
“I never thought I’d get an etymology lesson on that particular word in the middle of the park,” she says, but she’s fighting a smile.
“It’s only shocking because people made it that way. In Kiwi, it’s practically a term of endearment. Over the ditch, the Aussies use it as a comma.” I pull her closer. “But seriously,Soph. Any man who thinks pleasuring his partner makes him less of a man is a bloody idiot. And definitely, historically, a cunt.”
