Page 15 of About That Night

Being a lousy sibling by forgetting birthdays and not knowing how to hold a newborn baby’s head safely and securely.

Dying alone.

We’re all afraid of shit. Whoever says they’re not is a liar or a sociopath.

“It’s okay to be afraid, and I’m man enough to admit it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That irks me. I’m being honest, and she doesn’t believe me. “Why do you think I’m not married?”

“You said you never met anyone you wanted to marry.”

My own damn words thrown back in my face. “That is true. But it’s also because my parents have a great marriage, and I want that too. Forever. But what if I fuck it up? Everyone has fears.”

Chastity gives me a long look then nods. “Thank you for sharing that. I appreciate it. I’m confident at work. I’m confident I’m a good mother. But I’m not confident with men.”

“You could have fooled me. You also seem pretty confident in shutting me down right now.”

She laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“That little no-sex thing. At least you know what you want.”

“I know you’ll understand why I don’t want to have sex, Hank.”

I don’t understand shit. Why would I understand that? It’s unexplainable. It’s a puzzle that can’t be solved. It’s like learning quantum physics in five minutes. It can’t be done.

“Don't want to, or refuse to?” I need clarification. Because, let’s be honest, if she says she’ll have sex with me, I’ll fake date her six ways to Sunday.

“Can’t. It’s too risky.”

I really wish she’d stop saying that. “Taking street drugs is risky. Having sex with me is not risky.”

Chastity pulls a face. “You know what I mean. I don’t want to get pregnant. I’m terrified I’ll get pregnant even with birth control.”

“What about oral sex? Giving and receiving.”

“No. I don’t trust myself not to get carried away. You have that effect on me. I would have had sex with you in New Orleans if you had a condom. You know that.”

That’s something at least. Though I don’t know why I’m even asking for parameters. I’m not going to do this. It’s messy. I don’t like messy, in the kitchen or my love life.

“But you’ve always been respectful,” she adds.

I have? Damn it. She’s working me over hard.

My balls are also slowly turning blue. Chastity didn’t meet up with me so we can have some naked fun. She met up with me to get me to teach her how to find Mr. Fucking Right so she can settle down with a ring on her finger and make babies.

She’s delusional about me. I don’t know anything about finding forever with someone. I just admitted that to her. She’s also making me confused as to why I’m not even in the running for this magical mystery man. I don’t like being treated like some ancient pleasure professor. I don’t want to teach her the-ways-of-the-cock so she can run off and enter into happily-ever-after with some random guy who isn’t me.

Not that I want a happily-ever-after necessarily, but shouldn’t I at least be a fucking option?

It’s confusing as hell.

What she’s asking me is impossible.

“I got in bed one night, rolled over, found you there, and went for it, Chas. How is that respectful?” I’m intentionally being blunt because I don’t want her thinking I’m some sort of savior who will actually agree to whatever the hell it is she’s asking.

Because it kind of feels like I’m saving her from me, and I don’t like the way that feels.

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