Engaged (The ABCs of Erotica) (14 page)

She told me about Anthony, Jake, Sam, Logan, then Kristie after that — the first and only girl since me.
 

Zoe has been alone for a while. As long as I’ve been with Richard.
 

She said she missed me, and that she was devastated after I left. She almost hated me, and would have if we hadn’t shared so many wonderful memories. Zoe could never turn her back on those. Instead, she fought to save them, preserved in pockets of her soul to draw in happier times.
 

When she finally found those happier times, and wanted to call me, my number was dead. After six months I moved on, wanting to hack the past from my present like a dead limb. She wasn’t going to ping me on Facebook.
 

Zoe thought I was cold for leaving, an ice queen who cared more about herself than anything or anyone else. She couldn’t see that maybe — as much as it killed both of us — I might’ve been right. Three years later, she’s glad. The pain of what happened became an anchor snaking her ankle, holding her in place long enough to realize she was happy where she was and didn’t need, or want, New York.
 

But I was in Europe, away from her reach.
 

“As much as it hurt, I’m glad you left,” Zoe whispers, blowing hot breath in my ear. “I love my life, like it is now. It wouldn’t be this way without you.”
 

A backward compliment, but I know what she means, and feel the same way.
 

I run my fingers along Zoe’s arm. We’ve been like this for hours. I wonder if she knows what I do, and if she can feel the truth between us.
 

It’s time. I need to get home to Richard. I’ve proven what I knew: I need and want him. Being away is absurd.

“You’re leaving,” Zoe says, reading my mind. Her words are half question, half statement.
 

“Yes.” I say lean on her shoulder.
 

She brushes the hair from my head, and twirls a strand around her finger. “To him? To Richard?”
 

“Yes. It’s time.”
 

“So, that’s it? You’ll go home, then get married?”
 

“Looks that way.”
 

“You’re not ready,” Zoe says, with a sweet finality that suggests I can’t argue.
 

“Of course, I am.”
 

“I don’t think you have what you left to find.”
 

“How do you know that?” I say, not sure if I should feel insulted. “I’m here. I think Richard wanted me to come here, to see if I liked women more than men.”

“That’s absurd,” she says.
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“I can’t imagine Richard’s that dim, even if you are.” Zoe laughs to prove she’s kidding. You’re not more attracted to men than women, Liza. And it’s not the other way around, either. You’re like me, and that’s one of the reasons I love you. You don’t see people as black or white, man or woman. You love sex, and don’t care
who
it’s with as long as it feels good, and right. Why do you think it has to be one way or the other?”
 

“I don’t.” I sift through thoughts, searching for the right arrangement of words. “I don’t think it has to be one or the other, but I think we have natural tendencies, and it makes sense that a person would naturally lean one way. Right?”
 

“Wrong,” Zoe says. “I think for most people, sure, they’re wired to follow biology, and that means making babies. But for people like you and me, people listening to something inside them that’s more spiritual than biological, I don’t think that matters a bit. If you’re listening for a soul, gender means nothing.”
 

I lean down, plant my lips to Zoe’s, and softly kiss her.

“I love you,” I say.
 

“I love you, too,” she laughs. “Even though you’re leaving.”
 

“I have to.”
 

“I know.”
 

“What about Europe, and your dirty, little model girls? You’re giving up on them? You’re not planning a visit?”
 

“I called Sasha. They’ll both be in London in a week, but I’m not going.”
 

“Why not?” Zoe’s tiny face seems largely surprised. “Aren’t the dirty models a significant part of your sexual journey into yesteryear? Isn’t that how it goes: Cooper, Leigh, Me, Europe, Richard? Wouldn’t they finish your run?”
 

“Yes, I suppose it would, but not in the way that you’re thinking.”
 

“Meaning?”
 

“I have no desire. Not for Europe, Sasha, or Hope. I want to go home.”
 

“Fair enough,” Zoe says. “You don’t think you’ll have regrets for not going?”
 

“None,” I say. “I don’t think Sasha’s in a good place. Same with Hope and some of the other girls. Their e-mails seem off. Their Twitter and Facebook updates are almost scary. I think they’re into bad shit, and I want nothing to do with it. Like I said, I’m ready to go home.”
 

“And you want to get married?”
 

“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?”
 

“It just … doesn’t seem like you. It’s not the Liza who wouldn’t move with me to New York; the Liza who didn’t want to ‘plan everything out.’”
 

“Yeah,” I say. “Sorry about that. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe my friend Ellie really should have married Dean, even though I told her not to. People change. It’s not fair to punish evolution.
That’s
what all this is about. Richard wanted me to see how far
I’ve
grown, and visit the people from my past who have grown away from me. I saw everyone who mattered. I saw how life has changed them, and their perception of me.”

“So, how are things different?” Zoe smiles. “Cooper first.”
 

“Well … ” I lean back “ … Cooper’s a great time. Always was, and our familiar chemistry felt wonderful. I love the boy inside him. He makes me want to play. The opposite of Richard, who makes me want to play house. I expected to feel playful with Cooper because I always had, but I also felt more emotions than I anticipated. They surprised me, almost overwhelmed me until I figured them out. Those feelings were strong, but not nearly enough to hold me. I am glad I went to him after Leigh, or I might have fallen deeper, mistaking things for what they weren’t.”
 

“And what did you learn from Leigh? Was she just nostalgia, too?”
 

Zoe tries not to sound jealous, like she always did when speaking of Leigh. She’s pure of heart, but can’t pretend to feel no sting from my first girl.
 

“Leigh was a schoolgirl crush. She’s beautiful and sweet. I love how it feels when our souls connect. But she’s dessert without protein.” I laugh. “I can only eat that for so long.”
 

“How about her girlfriend, Jenny?”
 

“She fucks like a man, and seems desperate for love. I wanted to please her. I felt myself wanting to take care of her, and knew I had to leave. She was looking for an anchor. I don’t think Leigh is giving her what she wants.”
 

She swallows. “What about me?”
 

“I still love you, Zoe. Maybe more than before because I understand you even better. But our love is different now, more mature. And less nurtured. Dim enough to teach me that no matter how glossy something might be, it fades if it isn’t shined.”

I pause, chewing the truth.

“What is it?” Zoe asks.
 

“What if this happens with Richard? What if I grow distant with him, less interested, like I have everyone before?”

“Isn’t that why you’re doing all of this — to figure that out?”
 

I nod.

“Don’t stop to think, Liza,” Zoe whispers. “What is it you’re
really
afraid of?”
 

“That someday Richard will bore me.”
 

“Nonsense,” Zoe says, leaning forward. “Again, without stopping to think, tell me about the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.”
 

I smile.
 

This is one of my favorite stories …

One of My Favorite
 
Stories
 

“This was about six months ago, halfway into my relationship with Richard.”
 

I look over at Zoe, smiling as I settle into my story. It’s one of my favorites. It’s a story I’ve told myself many times, while falling asleep, with Richard snoring beside me, or alone and wishing he was.

“I was thoroughly miserable. Not because of anything Richard had done. I was already starting to think that my new man might be perfect. I hadn’t been back to my place in over a month, which I had realized that morning after paying rent and doing some math.”
 

“Ha,” Zoe laughs. “I know that stage.”

“You’ve been here for years,” I say.

“Yes,” Zoe agrees. “And in that time I’ve had plenty of guests who were paying for unused rent.” Her innocent smile stings me.

I continue. “I was really unhappy. Mark and his boyfriend Abraham were having drama. My brother wanted to bring Abraham as his guest to one of my mom’s big charity events in Florida. She kept saying no, which was totally stupid because that would make her look cool more than anything, but my mom gets big sticks in her tiny ass, like, all the fucking time. This was one of those. Mark dug his heels in, saying it was bullshit. He was totally right: There shouldn’t be any reason he couldn’t bring his significant other to the party. My parents said they didn’t care, but that other people would. These were
those types of donors.
Business was business. They were both being total assholes about it. Everyone took sides. There was a lot of yelling, and as it happens every so often with my family, the drama wouldn’t die.”
 

“At least your brother told them about
his
boyfriend.”

I’m not sure if she means for this to hurt, but it does. I pretend she said nothing.
 

“Samantha was a raging cunt bag of bitchiness, from the second she boarded the plane. After spending her entire high school, college, and post-graduate life studying to become an architect, she was still looking for a job, and blaming her lack of landing one on being a woman. I called bullshit, saying she didn’t have a job because the entire world was looking at the same time as her, much of it credentialed, and that her lack of a dick had diddly to do with it. But my sister’s not used to things Daddy couldn’t buy. She was screaming so loud on the plane, I’m surprised they didn’t drag her away screaming. She shut up after they threatened her, but only after she threw an in-flight magazine in between Mark and Abraham.”

“Your parents let him come?”
 

“Nope. But Mark brought him anyway.”
 

“Wow,” Zoe says.

“Exactly. So, no one was getting along. We started fighting before takeoff, and barely stopped for the three days we were there. I was miserable the entire time, and came home even more so — to an empty house because Richard was speaking. I was lonely and frustrated, paying bills and waiting for my man.”
 

Zoe’s back slid low against the couch.

“When Richard came home, I wanted him to attack me.”

“He didn’t?”

“No. He saw my face, stared into my eyes without saying a word, then shook his head and looked at me sadly. He said, ‘We need to put you back together.’”

Zoe laughed. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
 

“Yes, but not in the way Richard was thinking. At least not immediately.”

“What was he thinking?”

“He wanted to stretch.”
 

“Stretch?”
 

I laughed. “Yes, Richard wanted to stretch. He believes that stretching is the key to perfect balance. It’s the last thing he does before leaving on a trip, and the first thing he does once home.”
 

“Even before fucking you?”

“Exactly! Normally, I get this. He has to unwind and put his body together. Great. But I needed a dick inside me. Right then, at that moment, after my million-year week, followed by all of the waiting, I took it personally. We argued. It started small, then grew. Bigger and bigger until it exploded.”

Zoe reached over to hug me.
 

“I can see it in my mind,” she says. “You’re always so cool until you’re not.”

“True, but that’s part of Richard’s Magic: He never lets that happen. He took me by the wrists and gently raised my hands over my head. He’s done this a few times before — his way of getting me to start breathing calmly, hearing what he was trying to say.”
 

“And what did he say?”
 

“He leaned into my ear and whispered, ‘Trust
me.’
”

“Did you?”

“Of course.”