Page 9 of Choices

Honestly, it doesn't feel like it was anyonechoice, but all of them.

Is life nothing but a bunch of choices?

Every choice I've ever made was because it was the choice IthoughtI should make or one that was made for me.

I stare at my hands, letting the sudsy shampoo drip off of my fingers.

What choices had I made for myself?

If my parents hadn't insisted onGWBS or pushed Alan so hard? If Alan and they hadn't pushed for a quick wedding? If Alan hadn't been so convincing about our finances, having children...

Did he lock me into this marriage with kids?

He never really seemed interested in actually being a dad.

Holy. Fuck.

An eerie stillness fell over me. My life didn't feel like my own because I hadn't made any of the choices myself.

Okay. I hadn't had any coffee yet, so I'd deal with the repercussions of those thoughts later.

Is that a choice that feels aligned to me?

Yes. Yes, it does.

I finish my shower on auto-pilot, pushing aside the uncomfortable thoughts. My parents were expecting me at 10 am to get the kids. I hadn't Face Timed with them last night and the guilt sat in the pit of my stomach like a brick.

I loved them. I wanted them to need me. I wanted to feel needed.

It was the Sunday before the first day of school, and I wanted them home, calm, centered, and ready to take on the year.

I showered, dressed, and grabbed my phone to text my mom that I was on my way over.

But then I saw a reply, from Rico.

Unknown Number: Anytime, mami.

That word, mami, does naughty things to me. Regardless of the sexual undertones and sexiness of that word rolling off of his tongue, I'd be an idiot not to have noticed his tattoos, his muscles, the way his eyes moved like a predator.

I'd been turned on for the first time in years with him. The danger of the gun pressed against my thigh, the intimacy of his thumb rubbing its path along my thigh, the sensuality of his plump brown lips when he spoke.

Even now, tugging on some Lululemon leggings, I feel a tingle in my lower belly.Hello, libido.I had lost any interest in sex after my second. The sex with Alan had been okay, missionary, but I was always a happy participant.

Something about giving birth to my first lit my vaginal nerves on fire, and suddenly I could feel everything in technicolor. Sex should have been fun, exciting, addictive. But it was as if Alan couldn't stand to be near me after Aiden.

After Aiden, even though I was ravenous for touch, Alan's coldness was a hit to my heart that I had to withstand while dealing with everything involving a newborn.

It was like I was damaged goods after Aiden.

Jack and Vivian were only conceived during drunken one-night trysts.

So fucking sad.

But I would never tell them that.

Needless to say, I get dressed and drive the ten minutes to my parents' house. I should have known that Alan living in the same neighborhood was a red flag.

Regardless.

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