Page 34 of M.M. Scrooge
“What generosity?”
Ash opens his eyes and sends me a dirty look. I scowl right back.
“Ash paid the rent, took care of the utilities, bought the groceries, and splurged on all the entertainment and fancy dining you liked more than he did. What did you do, Max?”
“We were dating. Ash was my boyfriend. And he had the money when I didn’t.”
“Did you do the dishes? Make his coffee? Rub his feet when he got home from work? Or how about just say a simple thank-you? What did you contribute besides your dick, Max?”
Ash snorts, earning himself a light slap to the rosy nub under Drake’s right hand.
“I’m not a housewife!” I protest. “I was working too, you know.”
“You say that like you think being a housewife is a bad thing.” Drake soothes the skin he just slapped.
Watching them is extremely distracting. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sounded like it.”
“It’s not fair to expect me to do all the housework when we were both holding down jobs.” Why am I arguing with Drake? This is absurd.
“No, but it’s fair to ask you to participate. To contribute your fair share.”
“But—”
Drake shushes me. “I don’t mean half the expenses. I mean half the effort. Half of the caring, consideration, and compromise it takes to share your life with another person. You were happy to take, take, take, which required Ash to give, give, give. You used him.”
“But—”
“Don’t be so eager to respond. You’re here to learn. Think it over, and you might realize the truth to my words.”
“You weren’t even here!”
Ash speaks up, and his voice comes out quiet and small. “Think it over for me, Max. I was here. Lonely in my own home, even though you were living with me.”
Something about how he says it hits home. I shut my mouth. Do as they say. But thinking sucks. My dick’s still hard, my view is insane, and the last thing I want to do is contemplate what a shitty boyfriend I was. Though Drake’s words are familiar. It’s what Ash used to say when we fought.You don’t contribute. Why won’t you help? I feel like you’re taking advantage.
Was I? I mean, I took his money, sure, but there was plenty more where that came from. But I did give back. I…my mind blanks. What did I contribute? I changed the toilet roll when I used the last of the paper. Took out the trash most of the time. Had a spare key made so we could hire a housekeeper.
Shit.
I didn’t exactly contribute.
Guilt creeps in as an unwelcome third wheel. Fourth wheel? Whatever. The more I ruminate, the more distressed I feel. I can’t think of anything I did for Ash that wasn’t in the bedroom. Or on this couch or over his desk, but I digress.
“Um.” I shift uncomfortably, glancing down. Suddenly, it’s hard to meet their eyes. “Maybe I do owe you an apology.”
“I’m listening.”
Deep breath. Okay, two. I look up. They’re both watching me. Waiting. Drake’s hands are still for once, draped around Ash’s middle. Aside from being pissed at me, they look happy together. “I’m sorry, Ash. I should have treated you better.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Drake says. “Or he might not have broken up with you. We wouldn’t be here together now. And you wouldn’t be about to ask me nicely for the spanking you deserve.”
My eyebrows fly skyward of their own accord. “What? No way.”
Drake tilts his head. “But Ash wants to watch.”
“It’s true,” Ash pipes up. “I do. I want that very much.”
