Page 51 of Nine

“I disagree. It’s treating your symptoms pretty damn well. We took your stitches out and now I can give it to you just how you want it. Rough.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

We both look out at the pool water. It’s so serene here.

“This place is gorgeous,” Trig says. “It’s everything I ever imagined.”

I remain silent. He’s right. It’s amazing. I just don’t know how to sit here and not do anything. It’s been two weeks since we got here, and it’s been great, aside from the arguing. We’ve done things that actual couples do. We’ve gone shopping for clothes, and other necessities. We’ve walked on the beach. We’ve been out to dinner. We’ve stayed in the hotel for days and made love, but I’m not use to this. I don’t want to seem ungrateful for Trig and everything he’s done for me, but letting him pamper me with money that will eventually run out is alarming. I was selling my body for years to live a comfortable life, now I’m sitting poolside in one of the most visually beautiful places on the planet, next to a man who turns me on with just the touch of his finger, and I can’t stop thinking about being provided for. I worry about money, and it’s something that I’ll always do because of my past.

“What’s the plan? Do we just soak up sunshine, drink Pina Coladas, and screw away the days until the money runs out.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m serious.” I frown.

Trig sits up straighter and turns in his chair toward me.

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“You have?”

He places his hands together.

“If you could do any profession, what would it be?” he asks.

I think about it for a few seconds, and then I shake my head.

“Anything,” Trig pushes.

I shake my head again.

“There has to be something. Even little kids want to be a million things growing up,”

“Not me. As a little girl I just wanted to be safe.”

He looks at me with sad eyes, and then he takes a swig of his beer before putting it down.

“What are you good at?”

“I’d show you, but you always like to be in control.”

“Besides sex,” he says. “What is something you’re passionate about?”

“Can we just talk about something else?”

“You brought this up, so no.” He leans forward.

I look out at the pool water.

“Pick a job. It can be anything. What do you like?”

“Nothing. I’m not good at anything. I have no skills,” I finally snap.

Trig reaches over and grabs my hand.

“It’s getting late. Come on.”

He nods toward the walkway. I grab my drink and then we both get up and start walking back to our room. It’s a quiet trip until we reach the hotel door. I think both of us are in heavy thought. As soon as we get inside I plan to tell him what I’ve been thinking, but I know this won’t end well. Before I can say anything, he speaks.

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