3. Ellie
Chapter three
Ellie
“ R emind me, which one of you picked this book? Tell me right fucking now so I can kiss you.” Dee pinches her fingers, pressing them to her lips and giving a dramatic smack of a kiss, followed by the flourish of her wrist. “The slow burn. The tension. The dirty talk. Utter sapphic perfection.”
“You’re welcome,” Abby responds, raising her glass.
“Was that your first pick for book club? Home run, babe,” Bec says.
“ Uuuuugh , okay, Bec, we get it. Your hot-bodied, big-bat-swinging boy toy hits home runs. No need to rub it in,” Dee says with a sarcastic whine.
“Oh please, like you’ve ever suffered a dry spell in your life. Go find your own,” Bec retorts with a laugh.
“I’ll have you know that I’m living in the desert right now. And let me warn you, I’m parched and pissy. Abby, Carrisa, please tell me we can go out this weekend? I need some single babes by my side while I go hunting. No offense, you two,” Dee says to Bec and me.
Bec and Aiden started dating last year, making us the only two members of our book club in committed relationships. I met Dee and Carissa in college, and Abby started working with Bec last year.
“Count me in,” Abby says .
“Count me out. I picked up extra shifts this week. I’ll be too drained for even the most half-assed small talk,” Carissa adds.
“The hospital is still short-staffed?” I ask.
“Yeah, we’re going on the third month of sort of optional overtime. Can’t complain about the money, but my body is a wreck when I get home. I have just enough energy to shower before scarfing down whatever leftovers I have in my fridge while watching trash TV.” Carissa gives a halfhearted smile while tying up her auburn hair in a messy bun on top of her head.
I recognize her cover-up well. The please don’t look too close placating smile. It’s easy to see past the facade when I’m wearing my own.
“Why don’t they hire more nurses?” Bec asks.
“They have, but it’s not enough. Intake is way up, and we’re still training the new staff, so they’re not fully up to speed. It’ll be a while till things calm down. Not too late for a career change if any of you are interested in helping out,” Carissa teases.
“Major credit to you, but I could never work in an emergency room. You’d have to give me my own bed when I inevitably pass out at the sight of a protruding bone,” Abby says with an apologetic look.
“I’d be up for a protruding bone right about now…” Dee sighs, leaning her elbow on the coffee table from her spot on the floor, staring into the distance.
“Oookay, on that note, who wants to start?” Bec asks. “Just kidding. I’ll start because I can’t not talk about chapter thirty-two when Jessica was feeling insecure about her body and Scarlett had her strip while she fed her praises the whole time from across the room. They were, like, ten feet from each other…why was that so hot?”
“Because she felt safe,” I reply automatically. Heat rushes to my cheeks as they blush with embarrassment, and my palms begin to sweat.
“I like it,” Bec says gently. “Say more?”
Keeping my focus on the edge of the throw pillow in my lap, I play with the satin tassel, my mind racing to find the right words .
Fuck. We just started talking about the book and already I can’t contain my word vomit. I need to keep the focus on this story. I’m not in the mood to answer questions about myself tonight.
“I think the distance helped. Added tension. Threw gasoline on the desire they were already feeling from the day they spent together with small, innocent touches. And…I’m guessing Jessica liked that she didn’t feel crowded, and Scarlett’s words were enough to overpower her own negative thoughts about her imperfections and she could just…let go.”
A few seconds pass before I look up to find the girls watching me. Shit.
“Makes sense to me,” Abby says, throwing me a lifeline with a kind smile. “I loved watching their bond develop into something more in a slower, thoughtful way. It wasn’t all grabbing hands and gotta have you now energy. Don’t get me wrong, I eat that shit up too. But this was…intimate in a different way.”
I nod, and the conversation slips into safer territory. The girls talk about their favorite scenes, and I’m left to process my thoughts. Why did that question feel so personal?
Dom and I don’t have sex as much as we used to, but that’s normal for parents with young kids, right?
The longer I listen to the girls and the carefree way they talk about the book’s intimate scenes, the more I miss the old me. The before Ellie didn’t have baggage. She wasn’t overwhelmed with her responsibilities. She had a high sex drive and the energy to act on it. She felt sexy and desirable and wanted her partner to see every piece of her.
She didn’t worry that sex could lead to a pregnancy. I’m in no way ready for that now…maybe not ever again. I got on birth control as soon as possible after Luca was born.
My stomach sours as guilt settles in. How could I miss the before Ellie? How could I miss the person I used to be when I have everything I dreamed of finding?
I’ve always wanted to have a family with the person I love, and that dream has come true. Here I am dreaming about the life I had before. God, what is wrong with me ?
I jump back into the conversation here and there with small comments, but nothing of real substance, too afraid I’ll blurt out what I can’t stop thinking: I love my husband, but I have absolutely zero sex drive, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Fictional intimacy doesn’t scare me like real intimacy does. These stories are safe, I’m in control of what happens and what feels good to me. Anything more makes me feel out of control…again.
Not that Dom isn’t the most giving, respectful, and not to mention enthusiastic partner I could ever hope to find. But it’s been almost a year since I gave birth, and my body still doesn’t feel like mine. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror or even the way I feel in my clothes. Shit, I’m still breastfeeding. My body is not my own right now.
Sexy is the last word I’d use to describe how I feel. It’s impossible to want sex when I feel this…disconnected from my body.
Dom deserves better than what I can give him.
The girls and I wrap up for the night and decide on the details for next month’s get-together.
“Hey.” Bec tugs my elbow before I shove my arm into the sleeve of my jacket in the entryway of Carissa’s apartment. “You doing okay?” she asks quietly, just for my ears.
My chosen sister asking me that is unfair. She’s known me for most of my life. I can’t lie to her, but I also can’t bring myself to do this right now.
I’m sick of talking about myself. And if I’m sick of it, then everyone else has to be sick of me and my issues too. It must be exhausting listening to me fixate on the same things over and over, but I can’t turn off these intrusive thoughts cycling through my head on repeat. A broken cadence of fear, anxiety, and irrational musings.
Bec went through a lot this past year, working through her own issues and helping Aiden overcome his personal struggles too. I don’t need to weigh her down with mine.
The shoulder to cry on. The confidant. The helper. Those are the roles I’d rather take on. I’m tired of being the one they have to keep an eye on .
“Of course, just tired. Luca had a rough night and I’m hoping I can catch up on some sleep tonight.” She gives me a look that tells me I don’t have her convinced, but she doesn’t push me on it.
I give her a hug and feel the cover-up I wear slip back into place. The one I recognized on Carissa earlier tonight. The one I barely recognize myself without anymore.