Page 2 of Stepping Up to the Plate

Instead of coming over to me, he walks over to the dresser and disrobes while staring at me. I’m on my knees at the edge of the bed in only my lace thong. My boobs are small enough that I didn’t need a bra. Plus, the spaghetti straps and deep cut of the velvet dress I have on don’t leave a lot of room to wear one covertly.

The man, whose name I realize I don’t know, drapes his suit jacket over the edge of an armchair before removing his shirt and revealing abs that would make a washboard jealous. This guy is cut. When I peek back up at his face, his smirk tells me he caught me checking him out.

“Look at you on your knees waiting for me. You’re needy, aren’t you? Pathetic and desperate for my cock? Your greedy pussy is going to have to wait until I’m ready. I want you begging for it before I give it to you,” he mocks.

I rear back at the insults. Pathetic? Desperate? What is happening here? He catalogs the movement and tilts his head to the side as he assesses me. He appears confused and even apprehensive as he goes to speak again.

“What’s wrong, pet? You don’t want me to call you desperate? But you are, aren't you? You came here tonight to be my fuck doll. Desperate for me to make a mess of you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be my pathetic little whore?”

I must finally reach my breaking point from everything he is saying and months of pent-up emotional damage because instead of answering him, I burst into tears.

His eyes widen and he stares at me in shock before moving towards me. I flinch and scoot back to the far end of the bed, which halts his efforts to get closer.

“Why are you being mean to me?” I cry, unable to stop the words from slipping out.

“Mean?” he questions, bemused. I nod. He takes a second to consider his next words before he grits out, “Color?”

“What?” I ask between sobs. If I thought what he was saying to me was humiliating, crying in front of him is worse. I wrap my arms around my stomach as I curl into myself.

“What color are you?”

“White,” I breathe out. “Although I’m Italian… Maybe olive?”

His voice is much softer than it was earlier, almost cajoling when he clarifies, “No, baby, what stoplight color are you? Green, yellow, or red? Do you need to safe word?”

“Safe word? We aren’t having sex yet.”

“That’s not—” he starts to reply, but there is a loud knock on the door. He assesses me with a bewildered expression before going to open it. I don’t hear everything he says over my weeping, but I do hear the words, “mistake,” and, “Craig,” before he tells me he’ll be right back and to wait there.

Yeah, fuck that. I don’t want another encounter with that guy. I take a few deep breaths to compose myself, throw on my dress, and hightail it the hell out of dodge. Tiffany can get an Uber in the morning. I’m going home to wash this night off me and drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream.

ChapterOne

• LOLA •

July, Seven Months Earlier

Ipress the end call button a little harder than necessary as I throw my phone across the couch. I love my cousin, I truly do, but she is being such a drama queen right now. What a first world problem: the hot man who is completely devoted to me has to go back to his job where he makes millions of dollars. Get real.

I would never say Carina has had it easy, but her life is pretty cushy. Her early years may have been rough, but even then her life was filled with love. She doesn’t have a frame of reference for dealing with conflict. Robby is her only “adult” relationship, and the dude bailed when things got tough. Neither of them has ever had to stick through the tough times. Being committed is hard work. It isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. I should know, I’m living in one.

I’ve been married to my college boyfriend, Phil, for four years. Once the honeymoon phase is over, you realize you are two people who are trying to make it on this earth as one unit, and that is hard work. Sometimes you get snappy with one another. Sometimes you fight. Sometimes you work through your anniversary and your wife is asleep by the time you get home. Again.

Ugh. I shouldn’t have been that harsh with Carina. Being long distance is a legitimate worry for her. I’m honestly jealous. I know how much Robby loves her. I saw the way he snuck glances at her when I video called them over the weekend. He is smitten with his Kitten. When was the last time Phil looked at me like I was his world? Or with even the smallest hint of adoration?

I want to chalk it up to us being in an established, mature relationship, but I’m not sure. Does the fact that we’ve been together since I was nineteen mean that he’s never going to gaze at me adoringly again? Does that go away with time? They say women stop giving head once they get married, but do men stop giving affection? That’s been my experience. Our honeymoon phase has been over for a long while. And physical affection? Non-existent.

When we first got together, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Even in our first year of marriage, Phil was constantly touching me. He was never the most considerate guy with his actions or words, but his love language is touch. He showed his love that way, but ever since he was given more responsibility at work, things have changed.

He’s not the same affectionate guy he used to be. He’s snappy and distant. He’s uninterested in the things we used to do together. All he does is train for his marathon, work, and attempt to make a permanent butt indentation on the couch.

I can’t put all the blame on him, though. Maybe I’ve changed, too. His lack of physical affection has certainly caused me to pull back from him. Perhaps it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, and he is taking his lead from my distance. Intimacy isn’t the only change in our relationship, though.

Phil used to talk constantly about our future and the family we would build together. Unlike most college guys, he was vocal about wanting kids. I always wanted to be part of a tight-knit family, but it wasn’t in the cards for me growing up. His closeness with his parents and brother were one of the things that initially attracted me to him. He is still close to them, working with them every day, but he put the brakes on starting our own family until he is more established in his career.

I desperately want to get back to where we used to be – and on track to building a family together. I can’t wait around for him to notice our issues. He is either oblivious to them or doesn’t know how to fix them. If I want a change in our dynamic, I am going to have to make the first move. But my father always told me that no one is going to fight your battles for you. If you want something, you have to make it happen on your own.

I resolve to do exactly that. I told Carina it was hard work to be in a long-lasting relationship and here I am coasting in discontent. Living at a tolerable level of unhappiness. When was the last time I tried? Am I particularly interested in Phil right now? No, his lack of attention has me feeling unwanted. But maybe he is in the same boat and I need to be the bigger person and reach out first. I don’t love being the aggressor but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.

---