Page 47 of The New Year's Party
I look her in the eye. If she laughs... “He likes to... role-play.” It’s the least shocking way I can describe it.
Olivia shakes her head, like she’s trying to dislodge water from her ear. “Sorry—like cosplay? Or D&D?”
“No! Role-playsexually. He can’t have normal sex.” Now I’m angry-whispering. Even describing this problem makes me furious. If only it was a more noble-sounding struggle, lessclownish. “He can’t, you know...get it up. It was this huge problem early in our marriage. I swear I thought he was gay. Then, one night, he puts on a dress and heels and he wantsmeto pretend to be the man. How messed-up is that?”
Olivia doesn’t jump in to agree, which is... ugh.
“I mean, how wouldyoufeel if Bennett—” I jerk my head toward her stupidly good-looking husband. Honestly, I was drawn to Bennett at that first party. Of course, it never would have worked with my beliefs and his agnosticism, but...
“It’s hard to, um, imagine. I—I don’t know what to say,” whispers Olivia.
There’s a long silence. To her credit, she doesn’t try to say the platitudes I’ve heard from our church elders.As long as he’s faithful to you...No! This is not what I signed up for! I didn’t sign up to pretend I’m the aggressor in the bedroom, which, by the way, is how our third child was conceived because that’s how badly I wanted another baby. I pushed him backward on the bed and—well, I don’t want to think about that now.
“Does... does Will feel like it’s a problem? Or—” says Olivia.
I fume out my nose. “Yes. Absolutely. He agreed with me, and he felt guilty about it, and he was committed to working on it. Atfirst. Then he started seeing this non-Christian therapist who’s encouraging him to, and I quote, ‘explore his sexuality,’ and—” I pinch my nose and sniff, then turn to Olivia. “Would you blame me if I couldn’t stay in my marriage? Be honest. Ijust—If things don’t work out, I don’t want everyone thinking it was because of me. Like, I have my flaws, but—” Now would actually be a great time to cry, tearsalwaysearn you points, but of course, the tears don’t come.
“Of course I wouldn’t blame you,” says Olivia gently, buther expression is guarded and I don’t exactly sense enthusiastic support. “Marriage is complicated. We don’t all have the same deal-breakers, and... sex is complicated.”
Meaning she doesn’t think it should be a deal-breaker. Which, how dare she, because she actually cheated on her husband, hello. I inhale deeply to try and put out some of the fire in my gut. She just hasn’t put herself in my shoes. Bennett is probably a wolf in bed. He has that look like he could get deliciously feral. What if suddenly, instead of romancing her, he was wearing a literal dress and waiting forherto make a move? Looking at her with wide, blinking doe eyes like some helpless woodland creature waiting to be ravaged by a predator? It wouldn’t be so easy then,Olivia.
“It sounds really hard,” she finally says, like she’s trying to find the perfect, placating way to end this conversation.
“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks.”
More like thanks for nothing.
Phelps was right about one thing. There is no support to be found in this group. I hate when I misjudge people. Assume the best, cast my confidence on them, pour out my most vulnerable self... and they let me down.
Itisevery man for himself.
And not just me versus the world... me versus Will.
I have to give my husband the ultimatum I should have given him long ago: me and the girls, or his friends.Because he can’t have both.
I grit my teeth. I’m not waiting around anymore for him to figure things out.
He chooses tonight.
Chapter 23
Hellie
Pow.
The BB gun feels powerful in my hands. I know it’s not really. It’s actually light as a feather. But it feels incredible as the plate explodes. For a second, I imagine I’m shooting Jenn. That it’s her exploding. I can’t believe what I just heard. Can’t believe any woman, especially one who’s been pregnant before and reallygetsthe power of that whole experience, the way it rules you and soothes you and makes you feel like a goddess, wouldeverbe glad that someone else miscarried.
I pump the gun. Squint at the next plate, shining gently in the camping lights.
Pow.
“Damn, Hellie, that’s two for two,” says Phelps.
And, according to Bunny, thirty dollars’ worth of goods on eBay. So long—and I could really use thirty dollars. So long, a lot of things.
Like my fifteen years of friendship with William and Jennifer Bernanke.
Will’s business card is burning in my coat pocket, having answered the question that’s been running circles in my mind since this morning:
