Ruby
I cradle my whiskey, watching as women filter in and out of the lounge. Some I recognize, some I don’t, but I’m no longer an outsider here.
They’ve witnessed me at my most vulnerable, and that creates intimacy. They’ve seen me laid bare, both literally and figuratively, and I’ve seen some of them the same way. It creates an unspoken bond.
I catch whispers, notice glances. I have no doubt they’re speculating about my connection to Athena.
In their world of power and discretion, relationships like ours become delicious puzzles to solve.
But their curiosity doesn’t bother me. In a strange way, I welcome it—this is perhaps the first time in years I’ve been interesting to anyone beyond my professional capacity.
I’m not ashamed either. I’ll do it again without hesitation.
Tonight, someone else will occupy that mirrored room; someone else will feel the sting of the crop, the rush of surrender.
My experience here peeled away layers I didn’t know existed, revealed hungers I’d spent years denying.
It was revelation, not degradation—a key unlocking rooms inside myself I’d kept tightly sealed.
“Another?” Donna—Justice Donovan—slides onto the sofa beside me.
“I should pace myself,” I say, though I hand her my glass when she reaches for it.
“One more won’t hurt.” She signals to a waitress, who appears almost instantly to take our order. “You look lost in thought.”
“Just unwinding after a long day,” I lie. The truth is more complicated—that I came here to see if the club still calls to me when Athena isn’t present, if my desires are tied to her or to this space. The jury is still out.
Donna laughs. “If that’s your unwinding face, I’d hate to see your stressed one.” She accepts a fresh whiskey and a martini from the waitress who’s materialized beside us. “But you’ve come to the right place.”
She’s right, of course. That’s why we’re all here—seeking release from the pressures of our very different lives. I’m blessed to be a part of this. Where else would I have the chance to connect with such special women? To make real connections?
Morgan catches my eye from across the bar where she’s leaning against Alex, both of them watching me with undisguised interest. When I meet her gaze, she raises her glass in a toast, then whispers something to Alex, who smiles in my direction.
I wave back and smile politely but quickly turn my attention to Donna when Morgan’s stare becomes too inviting.
I know exactly what they’re offering—a replay of the scene I witnessed my first night here, except this time with me as an active participant.
Without Athena, I have no desire for any of it—that much I’ve learned tonight.
She’s the one who turns me on, makes me brave, opens me up to new experiences.
“They’ve been asking about you,” Donna says.
“Oh. I—” I pause and shake my head. “I’m not looking for that tonight.”
“Not without Athena?” She winks. “Where is she anyway?”
“Family obligations,” I reply, taking a sip of my drink. “She’ll be back next week.”
Donna raises an eyebrow. “You’re well-informed.”
“We’re neighbors,” I say with a shrug, as if that explains everything.
I don’t mention that I’m currently living here, caring for her cat.
That I’ve met her mother and sister, shared a meal and stories with them.
That parts of my life are becoming intertwined with Athena’s in ways neither of us anticipated.
“Neighbors,” Donna repeats with a grin. “Seriously, are you two together?”
“Am I under oath?” I joke.
Donna laughs. “With me? Always.” She shifts on the couch, crossing her legs. This woman has sentenced murderers and settled billion-dollar disputes, yet here she sits, genuinely interested in my complicated non-relationship. The world is a strange place.
“Well, in that case, I’m going to say the only thing I know is true right now, and that is that we’re friends.”
“Honey,” she says, “Athena doesn’t have ‘friends’—at least not in the conventional sense. She has members, associates, allies, and she’s fiercely loyal. I would even go as far as to say I trust her with my life, but friends? You’d be the first.”
“I didn’t have friends before I met Athena,” I say. “But I feel like I know her, and she knows me. All of me. Isn’t that friendship?”
“Yes…” Donna tilts her head and regards me through narrowed eyes. “That certainly sounds like friendship. And maybe something more?”
I shrug. “We’re floating in a strange space.”
“Do you want more?” she asks, then raises a hand. “And tell me to back off and stay out of your business, by the way. I’ve been told I can be a nosey old witch.”
I chuckle. I can’t imagine who would dare say that to her face.
Do I want her to back off? Not really. It’s nice to be able to talk to someone about my conflicted feelings.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I say. “And I don’t know if I want more. Physically, I crave her. Emotionally, she’s… she’s good to me.” I pause, measuring my words. “But there’s a complexity to it. My wife died, and—”
“I know,” Donna says gently. “I heard about that. I’m truly sorry.” Her sympathy feels genuine.
“Thank you. It’s been two years, but grief doesn’t follow a timeline, does it?
Some days, I wake up and it feels fresh.
Other days, I can almost convince myself I’m moving on.
” I take another sip of my drink, letting the whiskey burn away the tightness in my throat.
“Whenever I let myself get closer to Athena, there’s this voice that whispers I’m erasing Claire.
As if I’m retroactively diminishing what we had by wanting someone new. ”
Donna nods. “Opening yourself to new feelings doesn’t invalidate what came before.”
“I know that,” I admit. “But emotions aren’t rational. And these feelings for Athena—they don’t even resemble what I had with Claire. It’s so different that sometimes I wonder if I even understand what I’m experiencing.”
“Sure,” Donna says. “That makes sense. Each relationship we have changes us, becomes part of our foundation. Claire will always be part of yours, regardless of who else enters your life. Sometimes the most profound relationships don’t mirror each other—they complement each other.
One teaches you tenderness, another teaches you passion.
Both are equally valid, and both can be built on love.
” She sets her glass down and turns toward me, resting her arm over the couch’s backrest. “Let me tell you something. People have been talking.”
“About Athena and me?” I frown. “What are they saying?”
Donna purses her lips and tilts her head from side to side.
“Look, I’m not interested in going beyond that curtain, so I’ve never seen Athena in action so to speak,” she says, making quote marks in the air.
“But I heard she was different with you. She’s never kissed anyone in that room, and she’s certainly never gone on her knees for anyone, ever. ”
I stare at Donna, not sure if I should feel flattered or embarrassed. "I didn't realize that was unusual for her."
Donna nods. "Apparently so.” Her gaze drifts over the room before returning to mine.
“It’s extraordinary, isn’t it? That chaos inside when someone consumes your thoughts.
That wildness? That delicious freefall? It’s rare.
” She smiles wistfully. “I spent too many years believing the tumult meant something was wrong, when really, it was the surest sign something was deeply right. The anxiety, the obsession, the physical ache—they’re all precious gifts.
I’ve got decades on you, and if I could go back in time, I’d embrace them all. ”