Nothing beat the perfect kiss.
I kissed Craig like that. At one time in our life, he gave me that high.
Maybe Kael was right. Maybe humans weren’t made to be together forever. Maybe ’til death do us part was a punishment more than a promise.
Instead of pulling completely apart, our foreheads rested together for a few seconds as we just … lived in the moment. That one second followed by several more. We shared a few breaths and existed as something undefinable in silence. I thought of Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars.” Being with someone for a moment in time while just forgetting the rest of the world.
Just a moment.
Just a few breaths.
Just being.
The moment ended as all moments did. When I climbed out, he licked his thumb and wiped my face.
My nose wrinkled.
“Sorry. But you had food on your face because you insisted on acting like a child about a loaf of bread. Are you sure you’re forty-two?”
Before his thumb left my cheek, I turned my head and bit it playfully. “I’m ageless around you. Stupid. Immature. And … free.”
“Thank god for that. I’m not sure I could afford you if you weren’t free.”
“Funny guy. Haha.”
“Tell me…” he brushed my hair away from my face “…how will you react if anyone finds out about us? I think I need to prepare myself for that version of you.”
“Now you’re scaring me. Who’s going to find out? Did you say something to someone?”
“That right there.” He held up a finger between our faces. “That’s what I’m talking about. That panic you get at the thought of someone finding out. We’re doing nothing wrong. Well … except in the minds of your Bible people.”
“My Bible people?” I laughed. “You mean in the eyes of God?”
“No. I mean in the eyes of your Bible people.”
“You think God is okay with what we’re doing, but my church family would not be?”
He smirked.
“You’re an atheist. Why am I even having this conversation with you?” I rolled my eyes then covered my face. “Ugh … I’m having sex out of wedlock with an atheist.”
“I’m not an atheist. And we’re not committing adultery, so that gets you some counter points with the big guy. Right?”
No. Yes. I didn’t know.
I was raised to believe you shouldn’t sin. Period. It wasn’t a scale that just had to have a balance of good deeds and sins. I had dirty sex on Thanksgiving in the back of my Tahoe on a dead-end road, but I also volunteered at a homeless shelter and donated to the food bank … so all was good?
That wasn’t how it worked.
Dropping my chin, I grimaced from the truth suffocating my conscience. “If anyone found out, I would feel ashamed.”
Kael slipped his ungloved hands into the pockets of his jacket, his disappointment evident by that tiny gesture to physically distance himself from me. “Ashamed of me. That’s great to hear.”
“Not of you. Of myself for …”
“For what? Being a grown-ass adult with physical desires? Are we spreading disease and adding to the overpopulation of the world? Are we breaking up marriages? Are we cheating on other people? What exactly do you have to be ashamed about?”
“Because I was married for twenty-two years. I’ve had four children. I’m not opposed to monogamy.”
“Aaannnd … what is your point? No one said you have to be opposed to monogamy or children. Sometimes humans mate for life and it works out just fine, whether we’re really wired to do so or not. It’s not your fault that your husband died. Had he not died, you would be happily married. Blissfully monogamous. A loyal superstar like a bat, wolf, or beaver.”
Happily married.
Blissfully monogamous.
There was just so much he didn’t know.
“Bat, wolf, or beaver?” I glanced up at him with one eye squinted.
“Yes. Three to five percent of approximately 5,000 species of mammals practice lifelong monogamy. Bats, beavers, and wolves are part of that three to five percent. And geese … mustn’t forget the geese—the ultimate example of a monogamous animal. Even if their mate is killed, they will not mate again.”
Kael didn’t simply choose on a whim to not get married, have children, and live a life free from the confines of monogamy. He’d researched it. Maybe to make himself feel better about not conforming.
“And humans?” My head canted to the side.
“I think we strive for lifelong sexual and social monogamy because of societal structure more than it being part of our natural state.”
After a few seconds of searching for a proper response, I said the only thing that I knew for certain to be true in my life. And the only way to deliver it was with a frown. “Welp, clearly I’m not a goose.”
Kael’s head rocked back as he laughed. “No. You’re not a goose. Not anymore. Maybe a duck. They’re seasonally monogamous.”