The Ex Talk

A pause, and then: “I guess we probably should.” He pushes up next to me so we’re both sitting. I don’t want to have this conversation in the nude, so I grab my shirt, and he must get the hint because he pulls on a pair of boxers. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s talk.”

“This”—I motion to the bed—“was extremely enjoyable.”

“I agree.”

The problem with this conversation is that I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know what I want, and he’s so tough to read that I couldn’t even guess at what he wants.

When I’m silent for a beat too long, he says, “Maybe I could learn to do the casual thing.”

“Oh,” I say, unsure how to feel about that. “Yeah?” I can’t say I’m not anxious about keeping the show out of jeopardy. This might be the only way to do it.

He nods. “We’re adults. We’re being safe. If we can act normal at work, I don’t see why we should stop.” He pauses, glancing down between us, where he links his fingers with mine. “If you’re cool with it.”

Casual. It didn’t feel casual when he asked if I’d ever had an orgasm from oral sex. It didn’t feel casual when he said there were about twenty different ways he wanted to fuck me. And it definitely didn’t feel casual, the way he draped his arm over my back and toyed with the ends of my hair.

“Casual,” I say, trying to picture it. Sneaking around at work, showing up at his apartment at night. “Yeah. Okay. So . . . should we come up with rules, then? I haven’t really done this before either, but I—I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

He makes a face as though this never would have occurred to him. “I wouldn’t.”

I exhale with relief. “And no spending the night, I assume?”

“Oh. Okay,” he says with another strange expression.

“Good,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear how tentative I sound.

“Good,” he agrees, squeezing my hand. “I’m glad we figured that out.”

But I’m wondering why casual was his first instinct. If it didn’t cross his mind that this should be anything other than casual, I’ll have to make sure it doesn’t cross mine, either. It’s safer, really, to hook up with someone so clearly wrong for me. It’ll have to prevent me from getting attached.

The way we were on the island, those late-night conversations—that was friendship. It wasn’t a prelude to a relationship. There isn’t anything I can realistically have with him that isn’t casual.

If this is the only way I can have him, then I have to be okay with it.

The Ex Talk, Episode 7: Love Me Tinder

Transcript

SHAY GOLDSTEIN: Here’s a good one. Someone in a bright blue skin suit with a bio that just says, “Are you brave enough to find out what’s underneath?”

DOMINIC YUN: How about this? “I’m spontaneous and impulsive. I have my ex’s lip print tattooed somewhere on my body. I’ll only show you on our third date.”

SHAY GOLDSTEIN: And then a winking emoji?

DOMINIC YUN: There’s always a winking emoji.

SHAY GOLDSTEIN: Unless there’s a smirking emoji.

DOMINIC YUN: Is this a bad time to mention the tattoo of your name on my lower back? It’s very tasteful.

25

Casual turns out to be more fun than I expected.

Later that week, Dominic sits next to me during a meeting, placing his hand on my thigh underneath the table. Every so often, his thumb brushes the bare skin beneath my skirt.

The following week, when we find ourselves alone in that wonderfully slow-moving elevator, I drop to my knees and see how close I can get him before we hit the bottom floor.

When we get out of the elevator like nothing happened, Dominic surreptitiously buckling his belt, I trail his car to his apartment, and we try three and a half of his aforementioned twenty positions.