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“Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said. "Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway. That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway.” JOHN GREEN
Looking thin and young was a competitive sport around here.
I’d only heard rumors about the—you know . . . divorce.” She whispered the last word, as if by saying it out loud she might manifest its monstrous presence and it would eat all of their marriages alive.
The vines could be cooperative or temperamental, fragile or hardy, but they spoke a language I understood, and I knew how to nurture, shape, and renew them into something beautiful year after year. If only I’d been half as successful as a husband.
Life was unpredictable, and just when you thought you had it all figured out, just when you thought winter was over and spring was right around the bend, you got hit with a late frost that killed every bud on the vine.
I just think you’re too beautiful? I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you? I just had this dream about you last night that made me come so hard, I don’t trust myself alone with you, and would you mind stepping over here beneath the riesling spigot so I can show you what I did?
“I know your husband was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. I know you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I know I should leave right now, before I do something stupid.”
“She sounds very smart and self-aware.” “She is.” I frowned. “But it’s not her self-awareness I want to fuck.”
Fuck, it felt good to make a woman come, to know that I was giving her that kind of pleasure, to hear her sounds and taste her desire and see her bare before me. To touch her and kiss her and fuck her with my tongue just because I wanted to. And because she wanted me to.
“God, I love your body. I took one look at you in this dress at the party and wanted to fuck you right there in the bar. You make me so goddamn hard.”
“Tell you what—how much I loved fucking you with my tongue? How good you taste? How badly I want to feel you come on my cock?”
My body was hot and tight, desperate with the need to release all the tension and ache and frustration and anger that had been building inside me for so long and was now wrapped in uncontrollable desire for this woman begging me to come and asking nothing in return. She wanted me for me. She wanted my body because it turned her on. She wanted my cock inside her because it fucking felt good there—so
Words are nice, but they can still be lies. I wanted to feel with my body—and with yours—the kind of desire that can’t be faked. I needed proof that you find me beautiful and sexy. I wanted to be so tempting you couldn’t resist. I wanted to have that kind of power over you and give you that kind of power over me.
And then once he’d given himself permission to let go . . . good God, I thought he’d tear me in two. I’d never been with anyone so strong or big or rough.
I’d never felt so naked or vulnerable in my life. “Sylvia, I’m going to say this once,” Henry said seriously. “And then, since you’ve learned not to trust words entirely, I’m going to spend the rest of the night showing you that it’s true—I think you are the most exquisite woman on the face of the earth, in every way. There is no part of your body, no inch of your skin, that isn’t perfect, because it’s yours.” He took my head in his hands and kissed me, hard but sweet. “And all I want to do is make you mine, even if it’s just for tonight.”
I had forgotten how exhilarating and empowering it was to make a man this aroused, this needy, this hard. I loved the way he thrust inside my fist, the way his fingers dug into my hips, the way he cursed and growled, like he was trying to hold back but wasn’t sure how long he could last. It made me feel sexy and confident.
We’re all just stumbling our way through life, hoping to arrive at the right destination. If something makes you feel good on the way, why not do it?”
For so long, I’d lived in fear of being abandoned, of being alone and having to start over, of failing. And I let that fear prevent me from leaving a marriage that not only didn’t fulfill me, but robbed me of joy, of confidence, of self-worth.
If I was going to put marks on my knees, it wasn’t going to be because of a slippery sidewalk.
A little gasp escaped me. My heart was pounding. I’d never been tied up before.
“You wanted to learn how to please me.” Henry locked eyes with me in the mirror. “Yes.” “Sometimes I like to have all the control.”
“You make me so fucking hard,” he rasped. “Even when I have all the control, I don’t. Every fucking second is a struggle around you.”
The animal noises I made were instinctive, helpless, throaty, frantic. Part of me was embarrassed by them, but another part thrilled at letting go of caring what I looked like or sounded like—I didn’t have to conform to a manufactured version of myself anymore. I didn’t have to be perfect all the time. I could be dirty. I could be real. I could be me.
Sometimes what looks like real love turns out to be infatuation. Sometimes real love exists, but people drift apart. Sometimes love is real, but the circumstances are all wrong. Love is tricky. And messy. And hard to explain.”
Love was terrifying. It put you completely at the mercy of someone else. You basically handed over your breakable heart and hoped that someone wouldn’t shatter it.
It wasn’t fair that an asshole like that won her heart, and I never even had a chance.
If I hugged her, I’d want to kiss her. If I kissed her, I’d want to touch her. If I touched her, I’d want to get her naked.
First of all, I came almost immediately, all over her hand and my rented tuxedo pants, after which she burst into tears. Second, she felt so guilty about it, she told her mom, who then told my mom, who told my dad, and he had to come give me a talk about how to respect girls.”
“Because when I think about her, my heart races. Because when she’s in the room, I can hardly breathe. Because I want to be with her all the time. Because I want to do things for her that make her smile. Because when she’s happy, I’m happy. Because she’s the first person in my head when I wake up, the last person I think about before I fall asleep, and the only person in the world who makes me feel like I’m the person I want to be.”
“We’ve been married for eight years, Henry. This is what Saturday nights look like.” She gestured down at her sweats and bare feet. “But we do have wine.”
“I know you’re scared, and that’s okay. I know you’re not used to someone keeping his promises. And I know it’s going to take time for me to break down all those walls, but damn it, Sylvia, you’re going to let me try. You’re going to let me stick around. And you’re going to let me love you, and prove to you that we can build something so real and so strong, it’s unbreakable.”
I think I tried to say hi, but all I got out was a word that sounded like “hot.”
That’s enough, Sylvia. Stop fretting about this and go in and tell Henry he’s going to be a father. You are not betraying anybody by having a baby—it’s an incredible, unexpected miracle that will mean more love in this family and in this world. Be grateful you were given such a gift.
