I take the phone out of my pocket, shut my eyes. Later tonight, I should delete the app. I can’t do this—keeping one foot partway in a fantasy. It’s undisciplined…a self-deception. And it’s pointless. It’s been years since I spoke to him. Truth be told, I barely know him. I’ve said prayers of thanksgiving that he is who he is, because I don’t think he’ll ever tell. I got off easy for my indiscretion.
I delete the app on impulse, drop the phone back into my pocket, wash my hands, and return to the table.
She’s an ideal dinner date. We talk about her dog and how I’d like a dog but don’t feel like I’m home enough. During the desert course, Hanna comes up. I tell her it was mostly me who ended things back in November. We only dated for five months, but I knew Hanna was eager to marry. She was thirty-eight, and she wanted a whole brood of children.
Megan’s face bends sympathetically. “That must have been hard.”
Something unfurls in my chest. “It was,” I tell her honestly.
“Have you spent the time since mostly alone?”
Mostly. So much tact in one word. She’s not asking if I spent time with anyone in private. She just wants to find out if I was attached to anyone. Megan is discreet—another quality I value.
“Just me, myself, and I.”
“I’m sure that gets lonely. Even for someone as busy as you.”
I’m surprised I find it difficult to swallow. I’m even more surprised she seems to catch my momentary hesitation. She looks down at her plate to give me space before her eyes meet mine again.
“I can’t have children.” Her eyes pop open wide, as if she’s shocked those words slipped out. She squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them again, her face is difficult for me to read. “I’ve always hoped to adopt someday. But I wanted them to have a father and a mother. So I’ve waited.”
“That makes sense.” My chest is locked so tightly, I can barely draw my next breath. The air around us seems to vibrate as I realize that we’re not so different.
Maybe if she found out…if time passed and she guessed my secret, she wouldn’t let it color her judgment of me. I would be faithful to her. And I would love her—in the ways I can. And isn’t that in almost every way? If she found out the truth, I could pretend I’m like him—that I enjoy both flavors.
“I think adoption is a great way to have kids,” I say. “I’ve thought of it before myself.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
I’ve spent time in dozens of countries, visited hundreds of orphanages.
“I normally don’t blurt that out,” she says softly. “I don’t know why I did tonight.”
Her hesitation makes me want to reassure her. “It’s okay. It’s different when you’re on a date at our age.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I’m not doing this for fun,” I deadpan. She throws her head back laughing—not an ounce of the insecurity Hanna used to feel when I unleashed my dry humor.
For the rest of the evening, I breathe easier. I feel…okay. Good, even. Like maybe this could work. When my car arrives back at her house, she asks me inside.
“Do you do that?” She smiles—only half teasing.
“Of course. I’ll walk you in.”
Beneath the warm glow of the lamp there in her foyer, she runs her hands over my shoulders and looks up into my eyes, and I know what she wants. We kiss with my back against her front door and her softness pressed against my hard frame until she pulls away to breathe.
“I’m sorry.” But she’s laughing.
“I don’t think you are, Ms. Mason.”
Her eyes twinkle.
“I think you’re not sorry at all.”
“What if I’m not?” she whispers.
“There are things that I can do to help you see the error of your ways.”
“What sort of things?”
I smack her rear, so swift and hard that I surprise even myself. To my shock, I see her pupils dilate. She lifts her skirt, and I slap her backside again. When I see her gaze fall to my crotch, I adjust my pants.
“There’s so much we could do with this,” I tell her as my pulse pounds. “One night soon, when I don’t have a driver waiting. Do you like this?” Her cheeks blush, and I reach into her panties, looking into her eyes before I pinch her pussy. “You like it when I tell you how bad you are?”
She’s panting. “Yes.”
“Sometimes a person has more fun when they submit. Have you found that to be true of yourself?”
Megan looks up at me through her lashes, and I give her a rough kiss. Then I leave her there.
As I’m driven home, I think of that look in her eyes and think of sinking into her heat. She would be tight, I tell myself. But she’d be soft…her back narrow, her hips and backside rounded. Like a woman.