Page 98 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
Yeah. With my hectic schedule, sometimes I just want to play something relaxing instead of shooting zombies or coordinating some complicated mission with my cousin.
I giggled. Another thing for me to love about him.
So Itake it you want to start a multiplayer game?
Of course. Does this count as moving in together? Gosh, Avie, things might be going a bit too fast.
My nose crinkled.You little brat.
We’re doing separate cabins, mister.
Fiiiine. I get to pick the cat though. I want the one that looks like Gideon.
I giggled as I booted up my Steam Deck, the handheld device’s bright screen flashing like fireworks in my eyes.
We spent the rest of the night that way, alternating between texting and farming, until I eventually called it a night and went to sleep.
I woke up the next morning at 6 a.m. in terrible pain.
My stitches ached and burned with every movement. Even my own breaths making my stomach rise and fall felt like they were pulling my incisions apart.
I stumbled out of bed, my footsteps noticeably less steady than the night before, and staggered out of my bedroom and into the kitchen.
My pain meds were in an orange bottle on the counter. I fiddled with the lock on the container, slid two of theminto my palm, and chugged them down with a mouthful of lukewarm water from the kitchen sink.
“Avie, sweetie…”
I looked up, the sink still running and water dripping from my lips. I’d awoken my mother, who sat upright twenty feet away on her makeshift couch-bed.
“It hurts,” I croaked, my chest tightening.
“Come here sweetheart.” My mother hurried across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me. I swallowed hard, refusing to let the pain make me cry, and I realized that it had been years since I hugged my mother like this.
“The injected pain meds probably wore off,” she explained, patting my curly hair. “Lie down and give it some time for the pills to kick in. You’ll probably be like this for a few days.”
She broke our embrace and took me by the hand, leading me back into my bedroom.
“I’ll make you some breakfast,” she promised in her warm, loving mom voice. “And you like tea, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“Green or black?”
“Black. English breakfast—far right kitchen cabinet.”
As my mother settled me in bed and turned around to leave, a sudden thought popped into my head.
“Hey Mom?”
She stopped by my bedroom door. “Yes sweetie?”
“How did you know how long the pain lasts? Have you ever had surgery?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“When?”
“I had a c-section when Allen was born.”
