11. Ivy
eleven
Ivy
Two Weeks Later
How did my life get so complicated?
Perched on a cushy stool in the airy kitchen of my empty house, I’m sipping a mango smoothie after my dance class, waiting to start my session with Dr. Martin, my therapist. Hilde knows I take my therapy calls at the house, so she’s out running errands.
Today, I need some perspective. It’s been three weeks since my parents left, and they haven’t checked in on me once.
I’m not stupid. Hilde is probably keeping track of my comings and goings and, if she’s asked, will tell them I’ve been at Emma’s this entire time except to come home to pick up new clothes. Thank God, I’ve been such an obedient and dutiful daughter, maybe that’s why they haven’t checked up on me.
It doesn’t really matter though, I’m in big trouble either way. I’ve tried to be truthful, but I’m still lying to Cillian. I’m lying by default to my parents.
It’s not who I am, and for the past three weeks, I’ve selfishly justified the reasons why it’s necessary.
I’ve never been happier. I’m head over heels in love with Cillian. We haven’t officially defined our relationship yet, but we’re a couple. The only time we’re apart is when he’s working and I’m in dance or art class. Even then, we text and talk to each other all day long.
Gah , this double life is taking its toll. I want to come clean with everyone but I’m scared to death I’ll lose it all. I thought it would get easier, but I was wrong. Now, it seems impossible.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Cillian.
Cillian: Can’t wait to ditch my family dinner and devour something far sweeter…See you later, trouble ;)
Aaaand …I’m wet.
I swear, this man has me in a perpetual state of arousal. I’ve gotten used to my pussy pulsing with need, my panties being damp and my nipples puckering into tight little bullets. All in anticipation of what we’re going to do the second we see each other.
My virginity is a distant memory. I’ve embraced my sexuality in ways I could never have imagined before Cillian. My contraband vibrator is a pale imitation to Cillian’s beautiful cock. My man’s the perfect partner—caring, loving, and makes me feel safe to try anything I want to explore.
Oh, do we explore .
He and I have fucked, made love, had sex—all of the above—at least twice a day since we met. Some days we don’t even get dressed. There’s not a place in his loft we haven’t christened. Or, his truck. We’ve fucked at a secluded cove on the beach. During an impromptu picnic in the woods. In the stairwell at one of his buildings. Against a wall in the alley after a concert. He got me off in a movie theater—oh, and at a fancy restaurant. I gave him a blowjob on a ferry ride. Anywhere and everywhere is fair game. We’re insatiable.
When Cillian’s inside me, I’m complete.
My phone pings again with a calendar reminder, snapping me out of this startling realization. It’s time for my therapy session. I launch the Zoom meeting and prop my phone up so I can be hands free.
Dr. Martin’s kind face fills the screen. When I’m feeling shaky, her calm presence has guided me through the depths of despair ever since my brother died. She’s helped me find a sense of self amidst my family dynamics. Now, I need her guidance to unravel the threads of deceit I’ve woven with respect to my relationship with Cillian.
“I’ve never meant to lie.” My words tumble out. “Asking my dad for a small amount of freedom started as a way to feel normal. To reclaim my birthday. It unlocked a rebellious streak, I think.”
Dr. Martin nods, her pen paused over her notebook. “Tell me about what you define as rebellious.”
“I met a guy three weeks ago, slept with him on the first night and he’s become my whole world.” I bury my face in my hands then look into the screen. “I won’t give him up. I think I’m in love with him.”
She smiles. “How wonderful. Why is falling in love with someone rebellious?”
“Cillian is thirty-two, fourteen years older than me. I met him in a bar—don’t judge—on my birthday. I got a fake ID to get in. I went home with him, lied about my age and my last name. Now he thinks I’m twenty-four and my last name is Davies, not Bright. I’m fully invested in this relationship and while it’s long past time to come clean, I’m terrified of how Cillian will react. If my dad finds out I haven’t been at Emma’s, I’m toast. I could lose everything.” My words whoosh out in a flurry.
“Hmmm.” Dr. Martin taps her finger to her chin. “It’s good you recognize your lack of truth impacts both of you. Let’s break it down. Why are you scared of Cillian’s reaction?”
I take a moment to gather my thoughts, appreciating her ability to guide me through this process. “Honesty is very important to him. If I tell him I’m only eighteen and was a virgin, he’s going to feel deceived. Betrayed. Misled.” My voice falters slightly. “I’ve kept a huge part of myself hidden and now we’re getting closer to an official commitment. He won’t understand. And, if he finds out I’m six years younger, there’s no doubt he’ll break it off.”
Dr. Martin nods thoughtfully. “It sounds like you don’t believe the foundation you’re building is strong enough to bear your truth.”
“How could it be? I’m not naive. It’s only been three weeks. Putting myself in his shoes, I’d be sketched out if I found out he was, say, forty. I’d wonder why he lied.” My words taste bitter, but I continue. “I’d also be worried there were other things he was lying about. While my reasoning for, uh, keeping my age and identity secret started out innocently, we’re getting serious. There’s no question he’ll view our relationship— me —differently when I tell him. He’ll probably question my maturity and motives.”
“A valid concern,” Dr. Martin agrees. “However, do you think it’s possible he’ll understand why you felt compelled to alter the truth? Have you discussed your family dynamic with him?”
I pause. “A bit. He knows about my brother. And about parents’ protectiveness. He knows I’m getting my MBA to help run the family business. I’m always careful not to go into too many specifics to avoid more lies. If he presses, I change topics. I’ve also found blowjobs are a great distractor.”
“Ah. Using your newfound sexuality to avoid tough conversations.” She tilts her head. “Interesting. I hear everything you’re saying, but have you considered trusting Cillian? Owning up to your lie and explaining the extreme pressures you face with your family? You’re not a typical eighteen-year-old. Your situation is unique, as you’re aware.”
Hmmm. Could my background help him see why I’ve done what I’ve done? “Maybe. In my ideal scenario, once the initial shock passes, he’ll see our connection goes beyond age. We share similar values and ambitions and we challenge each other intellectually. Oh, and our chemistry is… unbelievable .” I sigh. “It’s hard. I know what drew me to him was not the age on our driver’s licenses. The question is, will he feel the same way? ”
“Given what you know about him, what do you think is the best way to broach the topic with Cillian?” Dr. Martin shifts forward in her seat, never taking her eyes off me.
“He needs to know how much I value what we have—how important and real our relationship is for me,” I begin, trying to articulate a plan on the fly. “Then I’ll tell him I’ve been feeling guilty, especially as we’ve gotten closer. How I care about him immensely and respect him as my partner. Keeping this secret doesn’t feel right anymore.”
Dr. Martin smiles slightly. “Sounds like a great approach. Sincerely acknowledge your mistake.”
“I hope he understands it was never about deceiving him, it was about asserting my own independence.” My nerves flutter. “I didn’t expect to find someone like Cillian on my birthday, but it happened. I don’t regret it. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. I won’t—can’t—lose him.”
She adjusts her glasses then asks softly, “Ivy, could this be a situation where you’re more invested in the relationship than he is? You’ve never had a boyfriend before.”
“No, I think he feels the same way, at least he tells me he does. Cillian claims he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend because he’s been busy with his business. He’s also been honest about his sexual history—there’ve been lots of women.” I hear myself say the words and panic. He’s so much more worldly than me. God, I’m in over my head. “I don’ t have any experience with an adult romantic relationship other than this one.” I’m caught between anxiety and hope. “Maybe I desperately want to believe that somehow I’m different—that I’m the ‘one.’ Am I being delusional?”
“Do you think physical attraction is driving your relationship?” Dr. Martin focuses on my biggest fear. “Sex seems to play an important role in your day-to-day relationship, which is understandable for two young, attractive people who have explosive chemistry. If he’s been with a lot of women, do you worry it’s overshadowing emotional and intellectual connections you could be building?”
“No, actually, I don’t think so,” I say, with confidence. “We talk about everything—from pop culture, to politics to philosophy. He tells me hilarious stories about his huge family—which is filled with genuine rockstars, by the way. We know each other’s hobbies and discuss places we want to travel together. That kind of stuff. We’re already making plans for him to visit me at Stanford.” I take a breath. “We also encourage each other. He seems to value my thoughts on his plans to expand his construction company. He’s even implemented some of my ideas. Our sex is amazing, but I’ve fallen hard for the whole package. For the first time in my life someone sees me for me. It feels like we’re equals.”
Dr. Martin glances at her wrist. “Well, it seems like if you don’t want to risk losing a man who means the world to you, it might be time for a discussion. Now, I hate to do this, but we have about five minutes.”
“Okay, one final question. How should I start the conversation?” I already feel stressed.
“I’d choose a quiet, private time. You should both be relaxed, but I’d avoid having the talk after you’ve been intimate. Don’t confuse the two. Start by reaffirming your feelings for him and describe what the genuine parts of your relationship mean to you.” She scribbles something on her notepad. “Then, once you feel the moment is right, share your truth. Be clear, direct, and prepared for any response. Remember, Cillian isn’t your father—he probably won’t react with anger. Revealing your age and sexual experience should be about reinforcing your trust in him and a commitment to honesty in your relationship moving forward.”
“Thank you.” A sense of resolve builds within me. “I can’t do it until I rehearse a bit. I’ll be ready soon. At the very least, I have to be honest with him before I leave for school.”
“Try not to wait too long.” Dr. Martin’s voice is kind. “You’ve been carrying a heavy burden, Ivy. Your relationship with Cillian—I’m glad you’ve found someone special. Remember, —it’s best to remove obstacles before they become too big to overcome.”
Nodding, I feel the corners of my mouth lift slightly at the thought of him. “Yes, he’s the only person in my life who sees me for me. Not the Ivy Bright who’s supposed to take over Bright Shipping or the tragedy-touched girl whose brother died on her birthday. Cillian has become my everything. I owe him the truth.”
Hanging up with Dr. Martin, I head upstairs to take a shower and get ready to meet Cillian later. He gave me a key to his loft and I bought a new sexy bra and panty set to surprise him.
Facing him and confessing will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s necessary.
I owe it to him. I owe it to myself.
For the woman I am now. For the woman I hope to become.
Cillian deserves the truth.