Chapter 8

“What?!” The girls exclaim together again.

“We are in public!” I hiss at the two of them, wishing they’d stop making a scene out of our conversation. “Please keep your voices down!”

Lily shakes her head again, her blonde hair bouncing around her face. “You’re crazy, Esme; I mean, really.”

“What’s so crazy?!” I demand, but I don’t let my voice rise. “Why does it matter?”

Lily’s eyes widen. “How are you enduring this? God, if I was in this dry of a spell, I’d just lay down in the dirt and wait for death.”

“Okay, Miss Dramatic, take a chill pill.” I feel my own head beginning to pound from the stress the two of them are putting on me. “People can go without sex.”

The women look at each other before Annie touches my hand on the bar. “Esme. I love you. I do. But this alone should have shown you the piling red flags!”

“Women in our age range? They’re becoming like…wolves or tigers,” Lily adds. “We’re hungry, dude.”

“Now I’m even more pissed at Ryan,” the blonde adds, gagging at the thought of the man.

“At least you’re the one coming out on top. You should have put the pieces together when the sex stopped altogether.”

To be fair, the last thing on my mind these past several months has been having sex. I understand the primal need to release that pent-up energy. When Ryan and I first married, we were having crazy, wild, and long sex most nights of the week.

I didn’t even pay attention to our routine growing stale. I didn’t care, honestly. There was always more important things to worry about at work.

“I’m even more disappointed in that bastard.” Annie is clenching a fist on the counter.

“DO you think we can figure out a way to murder him while making it look like an accident?” Lily ponders, tapping her finger to her chin.

“Guys!” I whine. “Ryan snores at night, okay? And, sometimes I’m working overtime. Plus, I thought that the sexual disharmony or whatever was normal in middle-aged couples.”

“Middle-aged? You’re thirty, not fifty. You shouldn’t be considering yourself anywhere near middle-aged.”

Maybe Annie’s right But that doesn’t stop the anxieties creeping up my neck.

“Besides, my husband and I have sex every week. We don’t have to plan it. We just fling our clothes against the wall and enjoy one another.”

“Gross.” Lily sticks her tongue out at our friend but laughs when Annie comes closer to pretend-kiss her.

I take a sip of my drink, not sure how they’re going to take the next piece of news. This has remained a secret for a while. And if I’m being honest, I’m not looking forward to sharing.

“Well…”

I groan, wanting to pound my head on the bar counter.

“Ryan and I…actually did have sex last month. Though, I wouldn’t exactly call it real sex. He’d had a bit to drink, and he started to get just a bit frisky. But he was somewhat…impotent. And things started and ended hastily and with nearly no fanfare.”

The two girls blink hard at me as if I’m doing everything in my power to sound pathetic and sad.

“I don’t think I can look at you; I might start crying,” Lily complains like my sex life truly affects her.

“That cannot be your last time, I refuse to let this happen,” Annie pushes.

Sympathetically, Lily touches my arm and gives me a hopeful look. “Girl, that’s just too tragic. Listen to me: tonight, immediately, get yourself something good.”

The girls drag me into the bathroom; Lily is modifying the black dress that I’m wearing. It’s a relatively boring outfit, but Lily works her magic.

She quickly turns the outfit into a strapless dress, playing around with the fabric to help enhance my breasts and give an attractive over-the-shoulder look that is pretty big.

“I’m going to look ridiculous,” I try to complain again. “Everyone’s going to be able to see right through me and walk away because I’m too old!”

“Nonsense, you’re never too old!” Her brown bangs hang mostly in her eyes, but she keeps trying to work her magic on what I have on.

She puts some bobby pins in her mouth and tries to play with my hair to get it into a different style. Meanwhile, I have taken to panicking and denying what the girls want.

“Come on, Lily, my divorce isn’t even finalized yet. I can’t attract some young guy like this.”

My best friend’s eyes widen. “He’s a cheating scumbag! You’re already separated, love. You have to start taking responsibility for your own happiness, or you’ll never find the love you deserve.”

“What book did you get that out of?” I taunt.

“I got that from me, thank you very much.”

After Lily has done all she can, she pulls me out into the bar to find a man to talk to. I stand there feeling foolish, but to my surprise, a drink shows up for me.

A cocktail is set before me, and when I try to insist I didn’t order, the bartender points out a younger man from a few seats down at the bar.

He’s definitely a handsome guy, as well as a bit younger than I am. He waves and gives me a sheepish smile.

With my friend's encouragement, I allow myself to have one conversation with him. He did buy me a drink, after all, so what’s the harm?

The man, Daniel, has a simple, get-to-know-you conversation. He asks the basics, but we soon get to talking about movies and shows we both find fascinating.

I can’t remember the last time I had a chance to talk to someone. Normally, it’s either about work or with Ryan.

Now, however, I get to have this conversation with Daniel.

“I’m sorry if this is forward,” he says after a moment. “But, if you’d like to…come back to my place?”

I feel my cheeks burn hot at his request. Is it really that easy for people these days? To be so straightforward and ask others for sex?

But as much as I’ve liked talking to Daniel and do feel that itch for sex crawling through my skin, I also know that I’m not that kind of person.

No shame in someone who has sex with people they’ve just met, or going through dry spells. Personally, as Daniel sits and waits for my answer, I can’t help but suddenly think of Derek.

That’s…very strange.

Cheeks flushing hot still, I come up with an excuse. The truth is, I’m not ready for anything this fast after my separation from Ryan.

But I think a small part of me is holding out hope for a fantasy I never imagined.

“I…I’m not trying to rush things. I’m sorry, really. But give me your phone?”

It’s one of the boldest moves I’ve attempted in a long time. I’m not usually like this, where I’ll give a guy, I basically just met my number. But I did enjoy our conversation, and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.

In the end, Daniel lets me put my number into his phone. I tell him I have work in the morning and want to get home, but I do thank him for the drink and conversation.

“No problem,” he insists, giving me a wide smile. “You get home safe now.”

I’m stunned by his kindness, but maybe that alone shows how I’ve essentially become brainwashed by my husband.

I’m deserving of a nice little one-night stand. Maybe it’s not like me, but things haven’t been going great for just regular old Esme.

After I return home from the bar, I lay down in bed with a smile perched on my face. I’m proud of myself for taking even a step outside of my comfort zone.

I pull up a new message to send, biting my lower lip as I type out a short message.

“Had a great time tonight. Let’s meet again.”

It’s a small change, but I know it’s going to be impactful in the long run. And who knows? Maybe Daniel and I will go back to his place together.

One can only hope, right?

The next day at work, I’m in the middle of answering an email when Derek comes by. He knocks on the wall next to my desk with a small smile.

“Hi, Esme. Can you come to my office with me? I'd like to discuss something with you.”

I give him a nod. “Of course, sir, let me just send this email out, and I’ll be there.”

Three minutes later I stand inside the office for the second time this week.

Derek, to his credit, sits with the suit and tie perfectly pressed. But his phone sits on his desk unlocked, sitting on a text conversation. Odd, what does his phone have to do with talking to me?

“Had a great time tonight. Let’s meet again?” He remarks sarcastically.

It takes me a full five seconds to register what he’s saying, and my heart quickly drops to the ground, a paralyzing fear overwhelming me.

Oh God. Did I send that text to Derek instead of Daniel?

Shit!