Cheater

2. Chloe

Three Weeks Later

For the first time since Adam’s accident, I’ve got a night out planned. A few friends are celebrating my best friend Alannah getting a fat bonus and landing a big account at her job. We’re hitting a popular nightclub on the ground floor of her office building.

I hesitated to go, but Adam insisted, reminding me that life needs to move forward, and that Alannah and I are always there for one another’s milestones.

He’s right. She’s been my bestie since we were in fourth grade. We call one another ‘breast friends’ because we were the best of friends since just before we both grew breasts. I grew them first; Alannah was jealous. But I stopped growing at an average sized bra, she kept going until she hit the territory where people wonder if her boobs are surgically enhanced.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I ask Adam, who is lingering in the doorway of the bathroom while I get ready.

“I’m good. And don’t worry about me tonight. Have a good time. Don’t be tempted to even check in.”

“I’ll set things up for you for the morning before I go.”

“Let me take care of myself. I’m perfectly capable.”

“I know you are,” I whisper and try to smile, but it’s got me feeling a little emotional, so I hold my breath while I do it.

Frankly, he didn’t need to push too hard because I’ve been thinking about a night out to let my hair down for a while.

He insisted I take a cab and stay over at her place.

If I’m honest, I’m relieved he doesn’t want to come. But I also feel guilty about these feelings.

“How do I look?” I ask, capping my lipstick and turning to face him.

“Good,” he says. “You always do. Uh… so?” he keeps going. “Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” I ask even though I know exactly what he’s about to bring up.

My face goes hot.

“Chloe,” he chastises.

The hall pass has been the elephant in the room with us for the three weeks that have passed since he passed me the piece of paper.

A few days ago, I tried to deepen a goodnight kiss and he turned away. It made me angry, and I know I made that known in a passive aggressive way, which isn’t very mature of me, so I forced myself to bury my emotions after a day of sulking.

While communication has been a no-go, he’s trying to do more things on his own. This has me worried that he’s preparing for an eventuality without me in it, trying to not need me because he thinks I won’t be able to get over the intimacy issue.

“I mean it, Chloe. I don’t want to lose you,” he says. “And I feel like I might.”

“You won’t,” I assure.

“If you don’t do this, I feel like I will. I see it in your eyes. I feel it, Chloe.”

I want to scream. I want to scream for him to show me just an ounce of what we used to have. I don’t need his dick to work. I need him to look at me like I’m more than the roommate who cooks and cleans and does his laundry for him. Who drives him to PT appointments and answers the door to the lady who clips his toenails. I need eye contact. I need to not feel invisible around here.

I don’t know what it’s like to be told you’ll never walk again; I can’t possibly put myself in his place. Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve tried to be patient, to hope for patience with the intimacy stuff.

“Oh, so you think I’m that superficial?”

It sounds like a lighthearted jab, but it’s not. I’m hurting right now. Even as I tell myself I need to get over it, give him more time, try harder, I’m deep-down terrified that time won’t do a thing. That I need to become a-sexual and live like roommates. And I’ve been feeling like that’s the only solution, that it’s what I need to try to do. Because what’s the alternative?

The alternative is to be the type of person who would leave her fiancé after he had a life-altering accident. That’s not who I want to be as a human. And I don’t have to be that way. I feel perfectly capable of seeing the glass as half-full if he gave me a bit more than what he’s giving me. And then of course I feel guilty because it’s not fair for me to put timelines on his emotional recovery.

“It’s not about being superficial,” he denies, “It’s about your needs being met. It’s about me realizing I can’t meet them myself, but I can make it so that you still have a full life. So that you won’t cry yourself to sleep because I can’t…” His voice cracks.

He clears his throat.

My heart swells with love for him. “I don’t need that. I need you. I need intimacy way more than intercourse, Adam.”

I take a step forward, but he lifts his hand to halt me.

I pull a handful of hair out of my hairbrush and whip it into the toilet before flushing it and pushing the lid down so I can sit.

Tell me to come to you. Hold me on your lap and whisper into my ear that we’re going to be fine. That you love me. That you still want me. That we’ll find a way to have the life we want, to find something new since we can’t have what we were supposed to have.

“And I’m not capable of giving it to you at this point, Chloe. It’s all still… new.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry to make you feel like this. I don’t mean–”

He shakes his head sharply, cutting me off. “You’ve stood by me. You’ve been here in every way I’ve needed you. I need to return that favor by giving you my blessing to make sure your needs are met.”

I don’t know how to respond to this. We stare in silence for a long moment. It’s a longer eye lock than we’ve shared in a long, long time. I see his pain. His frustration. It’s etched into him. I’ve seen it all along and felt for him. But maybe Adam is finally taking a closer look at me. Is that what this is? Am I being unfair by resisting here?

“You hovering in the doorway of the bathroom while I’m getting ready to go to a bar suggests you want me to do this tonight, which would be breaking one of your rules because you’d know about it.”

“Tonight might bring an opportunity. If you talk to someone… if you meet someone it might work with, you know...”

“I don’t know. That’s just not me.”

“Get Alannah’s take.”

“This is so fucking weird,” I mutter.

“So, you’re thinking about it.”

I sigh. “I told you I would think about it. And I have. I just don’t know it’s something I can even do.”

“You’ve got my permission to do this, Chloe.”

“Adam…”

“If I hadn’t lost use of my legs, I’d never push you toward other men. I’m trying to do what I think we need here so we can move forward, to make sure you marry me because you can see a life with me, a life that includes you having everything you want. Even if I’m not the one who can give it all to you, I won’t be the man in the way of you getting it. Does that make sense?”

“And what about you?”

“If it starts working again, that’s another story.”

I straighten up. “That’s the thing… I can totally wait. If you’ll consider reading those pamphlets or let me read them to you, there’s even an implant that–”

“Sweetie,” he says dolefully. “I read the pamphlets a long time ago. It was like alphabet soup. Sex is the last thing on my mind. I’m trying to cope with so many other things, it’s not remotely on my radar, other than talking this out with you to make sure you’re okay. Our relationship is about a lot of things and as time goes on, sex becomes less and less important in a relationship, you know? This is the only stumbling block for us, but there’s a solution. My hall pass.”

I do my best to clear my expression. “I’ve thought about it but I’m still not sure I’m even capable of a hookup.”

“It’s just sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You and I still have everything we have. We still mean everything we mean to one another. Then before we walk down the aisle… I mean, before you walk down that aisle, you’ll know if it’s something you can truly do. Because you won’t be feeling like you’re walking the plank.” He swallows, looking emotional. “I’m working on getting back to who I am, but it’s taking time. I don’t know if that part of me is gone forever, and I need you to be prepared that it might be. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get what you need somewhere else.”

There’s no point in me repeating my speech about only needing intimacy from him, although if I had that, I really do think it would be enough to last me for a while. Sex is an important part of a relationship. Clearly more important to me than to him. But he doesn’t seem to understand that I want closeness and connection the most.

“Our life together is about so much more than sex,” he says. “We can still have an amazing life together, can’t we?”

I nod, biting my lip.

“Think about using the hall pass, Chloe.”

“I’ll think about it,” I agree. “But clearly you’ll need to know if I’ve done it or not by the way you’re behaving and that doesn’t fit with what you wrote.”

“I amend the hall pass, then. I guess I’ll need to know once and just once. And maybe you can take up a couple of your old hobbies again, so you’re not home so much. That way it won’t stand out blatantly if you decide to take me up on my offer on a regular basis.”

He gives me a tight smile, but emotion flares in his eyes. He’s such a good guy. He’s been through so much.

I’ve given up a social life and all my me-time to be his caregiver. He wants me to start having a life again. Will me moving forward with my life help him do the same? Maybe we’re in a rut together.

But I can’t help but wish he’d understand it’s about more than sex. He just doesn’t seem to get it.

“Before you walk down that aisle to a man in a wheelchair who can’t give you everything you need, be sure that what I can give you is enough.”

We can’t hike a mountain the way we used to do. But maybe we can get an RV and spend time outdoors in accessible locations. Campfires. Camping. Fishing. Boating. Kids together with medical intervention. Board games. Making memories. And maybe he’ll get into the groove and decide he does want to explore options for intimacy.

But what if me being intimate with someone else changes everything for him? What if it changes me in his eyes?

“What if I do this and you can’t live with it?” I ask. “What if you can’t look at me the same way because I’m having sex with other people?”

He gives me a sad smile and I know now that this has already crossed his mind. “Better that we know now, don’t you think? A lot of people open up their relationship, Chloe. Some make it past that, and some don’t. I’m really hoping we do.”

The emotion in me wells up to near overflowing.

This is a test for both of us. Me, to see if a life with him without sex from him is enough for me. And him, to see if he can spend his life with me knowing I’m having sex with other men.

If I agree to do this, even if I find I’m okay with it, Adam might not be.

Everything could change. Whether I take him up on this offer or not.