Chapter 16
REBOUND CONTROL: SMOTHERING OR DIRECTING REBOUNDS
Idon’t ease into it.
The second the call connects—Christin holding a drink in her kitchen with her hair piled on top of her head, Emery stretched out on her couch like gravity owns her muscles, and Maya perched cross-legged on her chaise—I blurt out, “I had sex with Brennan.” Then I take a sip from my mug.
Christin freezes mid-sip. Emery’s eyebrows shoot up so fast I’m surprised they don’t leave her face. Maya blinks like her phone just glitched.
The silence lasts exactly three seconds.
Then Emery tilts her head. “Okay. So we’re opening with chaos. Love that for us.”
“I knew it,” Christin says, pointing at her screen like I’m physically in front of her.
Emery says, “I mean, the universe could have been dragging him back into her orbit for latent apologies and emotional maturity.”
Emery’s comment cracks us all up. I’ve barely caught my breath from the laughter when Maya leans closer to her screen. “Clarifying question. When you say sex—”
“His shirt off. Both our bottoms off. FYI—my entry way is not safe for leaning.”
Maya flicks her hand. “Check.”
Christin draws out, “Oooohhhh.”
Emery questions. “So, are you feeling guilty about your ‘sex is a choice’ era?”
I think about it as I scan each of their faces for disappointment. For the careful looks. For the lecture about self-respect and boundaries and how far I’ve come.
None of it comes.
Christin sets her drink down gently. “Okay. First things first. Were you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Was it consensual?” Maya asks, serious now.
“Yes.”
“Did he apologize?” Emery adds.
My “Yes” is much softer and touched with vulnerability I know they all can hear.
Christin demands, “Like—with words. And accountability. And at least a little suffering?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Chris. He apologized. Thoroughly.”
“Good,” Emery says. “Because otherwise I’d be having a strongly worded conversation with fate.”
“Speaking of that…” I catch them up on how Brennan found out the truth from Mark. That Mark felt so guilty seeing me after so long that he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Maya’s voice is gentle. “How do you feel?”
This question hits harder than I expect. “I don’t know. Incensed? Drained? Vindicated? Is it possible to feel all of that at the same time?”
“Of course it is,” Christin agrees.
“I feel like Sisyphus rolling the boulder up the hill and it coming back down over and over again. Suddenly, I don’t know what to do now that the boulder’s gone. But—” I hesitate. “I’m terrified that I just undid all the effort I put in to know who I was. I knew who I was when I had the boulder.”
I met these incredible women in a lecture class at OPU our first year—History of Western Civilization.
In the Greek mythological studies portion, we learned all about Hades punishing Sisyphus for believing he was smarter than Zeus.
Back then, I claimed that would be me with my future students, having no idea my true madness would be driven by falling in love with a man who had no faith.
Despite my internal fears, Maya shakes her head. “Sex with Brennan doesn’t erase your growth.”
“You sure?” I ask quietly.
Christin states, “It means you made a choice.”
Emery props her chin on her fisted hand. “Not a mistake. A choice.”
Maya reminds me, “Besides, only you have a right to choose what to do with your own body.”
My throat tightens. “I just don’t want you to think…that I went backward.”
Christin’s eyes soften. “Amy, you took, what I hope, was a very pleasurable trip down memory lane.”
Maya agrees. “Yes, please tell us the sex was at least good.”
I snort. “It was.”
Emery reminds me, “Besides, it’s your business that you had sex with him.”
Christin pipes in, “Good sex.”
I admit, reluctantly, “Great sex.”
They all crack up. Then Maya gets serious. “The concern isn’t that you indulged yourself with him.”
“It’s whether he tries to access parts of you he hasn’t earned back,” Christin finishes.
Emery declares, “That’s when we show up to take penalty shots at him.”
Christin points her fingers at her own eyes before pointing them at the screen. “We’re watching.”
Maya snorts. “You more than most. You have eyes everywhere.”
Christin tries to look angelic. “But I only use them for good.”
We all crack up at Christin’s declaration, knowing our friend would break every one of her white hat ethics to protect each and every one of us. Once we’re done laughing, I swallow. “I won’t let him break me again.”
“We believe you,” Emery says.
Maya points out, “I’ll only forgive him if I’m certain you have.”
“Maybe not even then,” Christin mutters.
“That’s fair.”
There’s a pregnant pause before Christin sighs. “Okay. Now give us the details. Did it feel like nostalgia or was it ground breaking?”
“Both,” I admit. “But I was in complete control.”
Maya grins. “That matters.”
There’s a beat where no one talks before Emery breaks it. “Okay, practical check in. Are you okay right now?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent,” she says. “That means you weren’t spiraling.”
“Does my orgasm count?”
Maya hums. “Not in the way Emery means, but sure. That good?”
I admit, “Better than I’ve had in years.”
Christin nods. “If you were spiraling, you’d be talking around the issue.”
“And apologizing more,” Maya adds.
“And already drafting lists of ways to convince yourself it really wasn’t a problem,” Emery finishes.
I smile despite myself. “You all know me too well.”
“That’s our job,” Christin says.
Maya shifts, pulling her knees closer. “What scares you about this?”
I don’t answer right away. “That it felt…right. Familiar, maybe?”
Emery winces. “Oof. Familiarity is dangerous.”
“But right is honest,” Christin counters.
“I know,” I say. “I just don’t want what was supposed to be a goodbye kiss out of nostalgia making decisions for me.”
“It started as a kiss?” Emery explodes.
Christin cackles. “How many seconds did it take for your pants to find their way to the floor.”
As dignified as possible, I haughtily declare, “I was in the math pajamas Maya gave me.”
Maya mutters, “Should I be grateful they didn’t disintegrate in the making of your wall sex?”
Christin mutters, “I’m wondering if I need a pair.”
“I thought you were getting some?” I ask, confused. The last I knew, Christin was casually dating someone.
She flicks her hand. “For another time.”
“You’ll get a pass for tonight,” I warn.
Begrudgingly, she mumbles, “That’s fair.”
Maya says. “One thing, Amy? Don’t dismiss the woman you are now. You built her out of the strength you didn’t know you had until after Brennan.”
“She’s right,” Christin chimes in.
Emery adds, “With work. And boundaries. And a spine of steel.”
I laugh softly. “I didn’t expect this level of support.”
Christin raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because isn’t sex supposed to complicate things?”
Emery shrugs. “Men think so.”
Christin cackles. “Good one, Em.”
“Emotions that are worth having are complicated,” Maya returns.
Emery squints at her screen. “Did he ask for more?”
“He said he wanted to fix us. I told him to leave.”
Emery notes. “That means you’re still in control.”
Christin nods. “You don’t owe him anything. Not another night. Not forgiveness. Not a future.”
“I know,” I say. And because of my family and these women, I do.
I deserve everything.
Maya smiles. “For what it’s worth, if this turns into something again, it will be because you decided he’s earned who you are now. He can’t chase who you were.”
“And if you end up hurt,” Christin adds, “we step in.”
“Loudly,” Emery says.
“With destruction,” Christin adds.
“And snacks,” Emery finishes.
“Figuratively,” Maya says quickly on the off chance someone decides to listen to one of our calls.
I feel my chest loosen, warmth replacing the tight coil of anxiety I’d been bracing against since the call started.
“I love you,” I say.
Maya smiles softly. “We know.”
Christin’s voice is gentle but unwavering. “You don’t lose us for choosing what you need even when it’s messy.”
Emery lifts her glass toward the camera. “To Amy. For taking on the…hard things.”
“For demonstrating flexibility,” Maya snickers, but lifts her drink.
“For not relying on herself.” Christin’s response is just as cheeky before she presents her own goblet.
I lift mine but, unlike them, I can’t keep a straight face as I return their toast. “I love you all.”
They clink their glasses against their screens, before bursting into gales of laughter. Even through the thousands of miles that separate us, I feel held.
Not because they agree with every choice I make.
But because they never stopped trusting the woman making them.