Page 27 of Kiss Me Softly

Aurora

“Ireally like make-up sex.”

I chuckled weakly, still recovering from my orgasms. Sex with Frankie had always been good, but what we did tonight was next level.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice turning serious. “I need to explain why I freaked out.”

I pushed myself up to sit against the headboard and she moved to sit cross legged in front of me. She was still wearing that incredible sexy underwear set. I pulled a sheet up to cover myself. I couldn’t have serious conversations naked.

“Remember when we had that night at the hotel a few years ago?” she asked.

“Like I could forget it,” I said dryly.

“That night I told you I didn’t do relationships,” she started.

“I remember.”

“It wasn’t totally true. I mean, it wasn’t a lie,” she hastened to add, “but my comments were a reflection of the fact that I’d just gone through a terrible break-up.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering where this was going.

“I was dating this woman Debi for two years. I thought we were in love, so when the critical comments started, I figured it was someone who loved me trying to help me improve, you know?”

“What kind of comments?”

“She hated the way I dressed. Hated my hair. It annoyed her that I refused to wear make-up. I started changing to please her, but it was never enough. I… I lost myself in the relationship. Then I found out she was cheating on me.”

“Oh shit.”

“She’d been cheating for most of our relationship, with a woman who was married to a man but hadn’t come out to her family yet. When I found out about the cheating, I confronted Debi. I was really angry, yelling at her about how she betrayed me, and she…”

Frankie paused, sounding choked up. She was blinking rapidly like she was trying not to cry.

“She hit me.”

“What?!?” I yelped.

“Clocked me right in the face, hard enough that I went flying into a wall. I had a huge bruise on my cheek. She told me I’d better not argue with her again. Said I was lucky to have her.”

Suddenly Frankie’s aversion to conflict was making a lot more sense.

“Oh my God, what did you do?”

“I moved out the next day when she was at work,” she said. “I blocked her phone number and email and went up to stay at my parents’ house. I was so embarrassed that I’d let myself date someone like that, especially when she came to their house and started pounding on the door, screaming and demanding that I talk to her.”

Frankie took another deep breath.

“I tried to get a restraining order, but the judge had a bias, didn’t believe that domestic violence happened in lesbian relationships. I knew the woman that my ex was cheating on me with, so finally I threatened to go to her girlfriend’s husband and tell him everything. That’s what made Debi finally back off and leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” I said, reaching over to rub her shoulder. “That sounds horrible.”

She nodded.

“I thought I was over all that, but when you wanted me to get a makeover and go to the gala, it brought it all back like I wasn’t good enough like I was, and I freaked out,” she explained. “But I had a long talk with my parents and then I had two sessions with the counselor who I was seeing after my break-up with Debi, and I realized I was having a trauma response.”

“That’s understandable.”

I hated that she felt like I wanted her to change for me when I thought we’d just have a fun day getting dressed up and doing something fancy.

---