Page 83 of About That Night

“Okay, okay.” He holds his hands out in surrender. He sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed. “Here we go. Just spread your legs a little. Put your hands on my shoulders.”

I close my eyes, mortified, as he fishes around in there.

Hank pulls the condom out a few seconds later, displaying it like it’s hidden treasure. “Ah ha! Got it.”

I stare at him silently, breathing frantically through my nostrils.

He makes a face. “I just want to say I accept full responsibility for this.”

I continue to stare at him. I can’t believe this is happening. Hank tells me he loves me, and I can’t even enjoy it.

“This is why I’m cursed,” I tell him. “I bet you ten dollars one of your little sperm is wiggling its way into an egg right now as we speak. I’m not even allowed to enjoy one night of perfect sex? I’m not even allowed to experience what it feels like to have a man say he loves me without it getting ruined?” My last words choke out on a sob. I’m crying, shoulders heaving.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Hank scrambles to his feet. “It’s not ruined. Nothing is ruined.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug.

“And it’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I’m the one who told you just to move the condom down a little. That was stupid. That was so stupid.” I’m hysterically sobbing now, and Hank is running his big, warm hands up and down my back.

“Like I said, one in thirty odds.”

“Six in twenty-eight. Women have twenty-eight-day cycles with six fertile days.”

“Right. Of course. But the odds are small.” He kisses my temple. “Did you hear what I said? I love you. I don’t want to be just friends, I want to be a couple. If we made a baby, I’ll be the happiest man in Porte French. We’ll get a house, have a baby. Life will be fantastic.”

I appreciate what he’s saying, but I’m terrified. “You said you like to sample different flavors.”

“What are you talking about? Different flavors of what?” He sounds bewildered.

His chest is damp from my tears. I swipe at it in a half-hearted attempt to dry his skin. “Women. You told me that’s why you haven’t settled down. You can’t just suddenly stop craving variety.”

Hank pulls my head away from his chest. He cups my cheeks and gives me a little shake. “Yes, I can. The reason I was looking all over was because none of them were you. Do you understand, Chas? All along, I just wanted you. Even when I didn’t know it.”

My heart swells. “That sounds like a line.”

“It’s not a line. You don’t really think it’s all coincidence, do you?” he asks. “That we keep running into each other, and we keep wanting each other?”

No. I don’t think it's a coincidence at all. I think that there is something that pushes me toward him, then pulls me away. He’s the man I love, but he also seems to be a lesson I’m supposed to learn over and over. “You can’t accept that running into each other is fate, but not also accept that it also comes with a curse.”

I’m protesting, but only out of fear. My panic is already subsiding. My IUD is already in place, thanks to Nevaeh’s advice. The odds of getting pregnant are small.

“Uh, yes, I can, and I have. We are not cursed. You are not cursed. No one is cursed to destroy the world with sex. That was a lie you were told to keep you from having fun. Or, as my mother says, ‘to explore each other’s bodies.’”

That phrasing makes me laugh in spite of my panic. “Your mother said that to you too? I thought I was the only lucky one.”

“Oh, God, she said that to you?” Hank looks horrified.

I nod. “When she told me that I should throw myself at you. I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist of it.”

“She told me I should put a baby in you.” He gives me a slow smile. “I have to say, this proves her own theory that my mama has never been wrong.”

My jaw drops. “Hank Williams Young,” I say. “I swear to God, you’re asking for it. By the way, I had an IUD put in.”

Now his jaw drops. “Then what the hell are you worried about? Fuck these condoms. I strangled my dick for nothing?”

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Whatever you need, baby.” He gives me a soft kiss. “Why ten dollars, by the way?” he asks, nuzzling into my neck. “Mm, you taste good.”

“That’s all I have in my bank account. I just paid my rent and my car payment.”

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