The Love You Crave

42.

Maybe Taylor.

“How’d you do it?” Maybe asks.

“You mean, why didn’t it hurt when I inserted the dilator?” Sam says.

“Yeah.”

“I injected you with Botox.”

“ What?”

“It’s a little tricky, and I had to study up on it. The whole purpose is to relax the muscle spasm.”

“That’s the pain I felt in the middle of the night.”

“Yes.”

“But I had my jeans on. I felt them!”

“Your jeans were on top of your legs.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Sam sighs. “The point of botox therapy is for you to wake up after achieving the hardest part, which is the insertion of a large dilator. When you see it inside you, as you did, your brain begins to understand this is something you can do. So that’s the first step.”

“What’s the second?”

“Training your vaginal muscles to respond to the dilator over time.”

“How much time?”

“Hard to say. Months, certainly.”

“It obviously happened that once,” Maybe says. “But it couldn’t happen again. You don’t understand. No one does.”

Sam starts to pull the sheet off her. She grabs it and says, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Check it out,” he says, giving up his grip on the sheet.

She lifts the sheet and peeks beneath it. To her astonishment, the dildo is back where it was earlier.

“Keep your fucking hands off my snatch!” she says.

Sam assumes a defensive posture, with his hands up, guarding his face. He says, “I love you.”

“You’re a degenerate. I never gave you permission to sexually violate me.”

“I know you don’t find me attractive,” Sam says.

“No shit! And it’s not just a matter of looks. You’ve got the whole ‘call me Daddy’ thing going on, and you’re way older than me, which makes it twice as creepy. You’ve made me a kept woman, paying for all these lessons and whatnot, and now you’re trying to collect a sexual payment for it.”

“I won’t argue with anything you said. But whether you believe it or not, I’m a good guy. I’m incredibly smart, talented in many ways that can benefit you, and I love you. I’d do anything for you. Do you believe that?”

“No.”

“Put me to the test.”

“You’d fail.”

“Try me.”

“Fine. Leave your wife.”

“Are you asking me if I’d get a divorce?”

“Yes.”

“Are you offering me anything in return? Anything at all?”

“No.”

“The answer’s yes. If you want me to, I’ll divorce her immediately.”

“Call her.”

“What, right now?”

“Yes. With me listening.”

“It’s seven-fifteen!”

“So?”

“You don’t know Rachel.”

He shrugs, gets his cell phone, and presses a button.

“Put it on speaker,” Maybe says.

He clicks the speaker button.

A woman answers.

“Mmm?”

“Rachel?”

“Huh?”

“It’s me, Sam.”

“Who?”

“Your husband. Sam.”

She yawns. “Where are you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What do you want? I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’ve found someone else. I want a divorce.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No. I’m totally serious.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“You’re welcome.”

The phone goes silent. As he’s about to hang up, she says, “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope she makes you very happy.”

“Thanks.”

He hangs up.

Maybe says, “She didn’t sound too broken up about it.”

“She’s crying on the inside.”