Epilogue
A s time passed, I tried to remember my wish. To remember the sense of contentment and peace I felt on at twenty-seventh birthday celebration, regardless of what the future held.
But it was difficult. Because while I knew that the surgery wasn’t a cure for endometriosis, I wasn’t prepared for how physically and mentally draining the next few months would be.
The first step post-surgery was to start proper medication to keep the endometrial tissue from growing back. And to my surprise, that medication was birth control. At first, I figured it would be no big deal. I’d heard that the side effects could suck, but lots of women took it, so how bad could it possibly be?
It ended up being one of the worst experiences I’d ever had. With the first brand the doctor put me on, I didn’t even last one night. Nausea forced me awake at an ungodly early hour, and I barely made it to the bathroom in time to empty the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet .
The second pill was marginally better. For the first few days, life resumed as normal, giving me a false sense of security. But once the weekend rolled around, I began to feel fatigued and feverish, as if I had the flu. And on Sunday night, while I was hanging out over at Devin’s house, I had the worst mental breakdown of my life.
I was inconsolable, howling furious tears into my sweaty palms as I confessed to Devin that I felt like my life had no meaning. It was a frightening episode of cognitive dissonance—I knew I wasn’t suicidal, yet I couldn’t shake the emotions that all those hormones had spawned in my mind. It was dark, terrifying, and eye-opening. I wondered if this was how depression felt.
Devin didn’t leave my side all night, wrapping his body so tightly around mine that we were both soaked in sweat when we awoke the next morning. I called out of work, and thankfully Devin was off that day. We couldn’t get ahold of my surgeon, so Devin insisted on scheduling an urgent appointment with a local gynecologist to get this sorted. He even came with me, which, despite my protests, ended up being a godsend. I was in no mental state to explain my health issues to the doctor, so he was able to do it for me.
This time, I was put on the “minipill,” a progesterone-only pill that didn’t contain any estrogen. Afterwards, we went home and spent the rest of the day together, in fragile but much-needed peace.
When Devin finally spoke of that night, many weeks later, he told me it was one of the most terrifying ones he’d ever had. How he was scared to let go of me while we slept, just in case the sickening combination of hormones caused me to do something drastic.
Even in the days after, Devin kept me close, lingering in the kitchen while I cooked and curling up next to me on the couch while I played video games. I spent most of my time at Devin’s home now; what started as sleepover visits turned into me almost never leaving. I even worked from there several days a week to keep Gideon company.
Cassidy was doing the same with Aaron, meaning that our townhouse was empty most nights. The more time I spent at Devin’s house, the less my own place felt like home. Sleeping by myself left me longing for his touch, and waking in my own bed felt foreign and uncomfortable.
By September, I was stable and comfortable on the minipill, and I was finally reaping the benefits of the surgery. My periods came and went as nothing more than a minor inconvenience, and I could wear whatever clothing I wanted without my stomach bulging like a hot air balloon. I wasn't cured, but I felt a lot better, and even the few bad days where my symptoms returned seemed like a luxury compared to all the nights I’d spent cramping in bed.
Spending so much time at Devin’s house allowed us to develop a routine. We’d both wake early in the morning, and I would settle down with my work laptop while Devin made us breakfast. He preferred to hang around his house shirtless, even when cooking, which meant I was always stealing glances at his lean, tattooed figure as he bustled around the kitchen.
We’d sit at the dinette and eat breakfast together, which was one of my favorite parts of the day. I found it funny how often he made pancakes, and he told me it was nostalgic for him, as his dad would always make them on Sunday mornings after church.
It made me smile, as my dad did the same thing. But Devin explained it with a hint of sadness glazed over his eyes. Unlike me, he had no contact with his parents. He hadn’t spoken to them in almost a decade. I broached the topic of reconnecting with them once, and Devin immediately shut the conversation down with a darkness in his eyes I rarely saw from him. I decided not to bring it up after that.
Critical Games usually opened in the late morning, no earlier than ten but no later than noon, which meant I had the townhouse to myself in the afternoons, with only Gideon for company. He was a haughty, standoffish cat, well into old age and very set in his ways, and the only scraps of affection I got from him was when he plopped his fluffy body behind my laptop fan. But according to Devin, he howled whenever I left the townhouse, so I guess he didn’t dislike me as much as I thought.
My workday ended at 5 p.m. Devin’s usually ended much later, so as soon as I shut my laptop for the day, I’d get started on dinner. Devin enjoyed cooking, but with his busy schedule, he rarely had time for it and usually resorted to takeout or frozen dinner. He was always so thrilled when he walked through the front door in the late evenings to a homemade meal packed away in the fridge for him.
On the days where he didn’t get home super late, we’d eat together at the dinette, and Devin always insisted on cleaning up afterwards.
“You know something?” He crept up behind me one evening as I piled leftovers into the fridge.
“What?” I asked, flashing him a coy grin as he wrapped his arms around my hips.
“I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you.”
“Aw, Dev…”
“Seriously. This place finally feels like home now that you’re here,” He pointed into the fridge. “And I’m not just referring to your cooking. I’m just so happy to have you here. Waking up to you in the mornings, coming home to you after work, relaxing together on the couch after a long day…” His voice drifted off, and his eyes became warm and hazy. “My life feels so complete. ”
My heart bloomed with warmth as I leaned into Devin’s embrace, but a pang of sadness lingered in my throat. As much as I appreciated his honeyed words, I knew our life together was still missing something.
Sex. Over the past two months, we’d made some progress. I’d been going to physical therapy once a week, and she’d recommended I buy vaginal dilators to practice with at home. My stomach had bundled up in knots as soon as they arrived through the mail. They were silicon bullet-shaped devices, very simple in design and function, but I still couldn’t get over the fact that in my mind, these medical devices were thinly veiled sex toys.
It took a full month of daily practice for me to get the smallest dilator in. My therapist had suggested I try using them on myself first; she’d mentioned at one of my sessions that I seemed uncomfortable with that part of my body.
Gee, I wonder why. I scowled as I fiddled with the silicone device on Devin’s bed. I may have made progress making amends with my parents, especially my mom, but my religious hang-ups about sexuality still lingered in my subconscious. The therapist told me to expect this. The burning sensation wasn’t entirely from the endometriosis, as my body had to unlearn associating that area with both physical pain and emotional guilt.
But that didn’t stop me from nearly screaming in celebration when I was finally able to get the first dilator in. Devin wasn’t home, so I had to celebrate the achievement alone, but it was still an important first step. It made me feel like I really could do this. That sex wasn’t an impossible dream.
But then I removed it, which was an uncomfortable, awkward sensation since I wasn’t even aroused, and it occurred to me that the first dilator was even smaller than a tampon .
And I’d never been able to use those either.
I groaned as I lay naked in bed, flopping my head back on Devin’s pillow.
I had a long way to go.
To shorten the amount of time it took to get the second dilator in, I enlisted Devin’s help. We’d spend the evenings wrapped in each other’s’ amorous embraces, exploring each other with our hands and mouths as both he and I learned what turned me on. Even though I had such a primal fear of sex, I found that I loved straddling him, and we even experimented with him being at my entrance. It was an intoxicating feeling, one that drove me wild for more , but the one night where we decided to try ended with a burning vagina and molten tears streaming down my face.
“It’s okay, Avie.” Devin rubbed my shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss against my collarbone. “That was my fault. It’s still too early to try.”
Devin’s soft words usually soothed me, but that night I ended up in a downward spiral about how broken I was and that I was doomed to be a virgin for the rest of my life. It took almost an hour, and numerous reassurances from my boyfriend, for me to calm down enough to get some sleep.
But over the next few weeks, it gave me a renewed sense of determination. I practiced with the dilators every single night. Sometimes even in the morning too. But I kept running into the same problem: putting them in was far more difficult when I wasn’t aroused. And I couldn’t always rely on Devin to get me worked up.
So, one Saturday afternoon, while Devin was working, I ended up alone in the apartment with a few hours of rare free time. Cassidy and I had brunch earlier that day – we were eager to see each other since we were barely roommates anymore. Afterwards, I picked up a few items for dinner, and it hit me that I hadn’t been grocery shopping for my own townhouse in weeks.
I then picked up a refill of my birth control from the pharmacy, stopped at the pet store to pick up food for Gideon, and drove back to Devin’s townhouse. But by then, it was only 2 p.m., and Devin wouldn’t be home until much later that night.
I flopped on his bed, which was beginning to feel more like our bed, and ran my arms over the soft duvet like I was making a snow angel. It was October, which meant Critical Games was busier than ever. Devin was preparing for a big spooky C a plump, soft, smiley baby with wispy brown hair and shockingly blue eyes. She loved being on her feet, and could run impressively fast for a two-year-old, even if she did tend to bump into things. But Sadie stayed in her stroller for most of the day, and Devin happily volunteered to watch Sadie when Evelyn wanted to go on rides.
I thought it was a sweet gesture, but as I hung back with Devin while my family rode VelociCoaster for the second time, I noticed it wasn’t just for Evelyn’s benefit.
I knew that Devin loved children, but I’d never seen him around babies, and the way he interacted with them made my heart melt into a puddle. Sadie was getting fussy in her stroller, so Devin picked her up and propped her on his hip so she could watch the coaster from a distance. He cooed and baby-talked her with ease, his eyes lighting up just as much as hers did.
My parents had never been to a theme park before. While my mother wasn’t too fond of the more intense rides, my father surprisingly loved them. It was a wonderful bonding moment for the four of us. On the two-seater rides, Adam and Allen would sit together, and I would sit with my dad. When we made the initial plunge on VelociCoaster , I was shocked that my normally reserved father threw his hands up in the air and cheered like the rest of the tourists. It made my own shouts mix with laughter and the adrenalin pump through my veins even faster.
I hadn’t had an experience with my family like this in a long time. And I didn’t want the day to end.
But my favorite moment wasn’t the rides, or the scenery, or even the parks themselves. My favorite moment was when we went back to my family’s hotel, a beautiful tropical resort on the outskirts of Universal Studios. We were all admiring the towering ceilings and glittering chandeliers when we entered the main lobby, but Devin’s eyes were locked on something else.
Then I saw it. A sleek grand piano, tucked away in the corner of the lobby, with glistening white keys and an empty bench.
Devin quietly excused himself, and we all watched curiously as he walked over and settled himself in front of the piano.
He’d mentioned he used to play on our first date. But in the six months we’d been together, he’d never had an opportunity to showcase it.
I watched as he shifted in his seat, making himself comfortable, and propped his outstretched fingers on the keys. I watched, transfixed, as they danced slowly and deliberately across each note, the tune growing more familiar in my ears with every tap of the keys.
This is a Christmas song.
Wait… I know this.
I took a seat on the bench next to Devin. That was another thing we both had in common from our childhoods: church music. He had played piano, and I sang in the choir.
I pushed the words out, deep but gentle, and began the first few verses of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” I saw Devin’s focused face break into a beaming grin as he played, and my whole family listened to our little concert in amazement. Even a few stray hotel guests stopped and watched us.
When the last word was sung and the last note played, a small chorus of applause emanated from our little audience. Devin’s grin grew wider as he wrapped an arm around me and nuzzled his lips against my cheek.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
I looked up, with Devin’s arm still wrapped around my shoulder, and noticed something that made my heart flutter with hope.
My dad, like everyone else, was clapping.
But he was also smiling. At Devin.
“That was impressive, son,” he nodded at Devin as we stood up from the bench. “Where did you learn to play like that?”
“Years of lessons,” Devin chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “And years of playing in my dad’s church.”
“Your dad’s church?”
“Yes,” Devin nodded. “My father is a pastor.”
My dad raised a curious eyebrow. I swore I could see the gears turning behind his usually steely eyes. As if he were slowly realizing that there was more to my boyfriend than he’d initially assumed.
And as we walked down the hotel hallways, eager to eat dinner at one of the restaurants after a long day at the park, I noticed Devin up ahead. He walked next to my father, shoulder to shoulder, with the two of them engaged in conversation.
Six months ago, my father had nearly insulted Devin to tears.
Now he was talking to him. Nodding. Smiling.
And it made me smile too. I knew change was less of a tidal wave and more of a subtle current, slowly pulling people along before they even realized what was happening. It would take a long time before my father truly accepted Devin as a member of the family.
But this? This was a start.
Now, several hours later, we were home, exhausted, full, and ready to settle into each other’s arms. Our family had grown just a month earlier; as we laid down in bed, I could see two beady-eyed faces peeking out from behind Devin’s old wire cage in the corner. Spending so much time at Devin’s townhouse and hanging out with Gideon had made me realize how much I wanted a pet for myself. I spent weeks debating what to get, until a pair of two-year-old ferrets showed up in a social media marketplace ad. They were females, one dark brown and one cinnamon. I had named them Sylvie and Lyra, after two of my favorite Creatures it offered an easier angle and more motion for him.
We hit the same roadblock again. Devin grabbed more lube, stroking my hair with his other hand as he did so. His loving smile reassured me. It told me not to give up.
I closed my eyes as he tried again, the vibrator’s mechanical buzz still whirring in my ears. Focus on the pleasure. Not the pain.
There were a few stings, a few moments of burning, but they were blended with warmth and pleasure. Two opposing forces at war in my mind.
Relax.
I pressed the dilator deeper against my vagina.
Enjoy it.
I wouldn’t let the pain win.
I gasped as a sudden smooth, sliding feeling shook my lower abdomen. Devin trembled, letting out a low groan.
He was in.
We did it.
“Yes!” I threw my hands up in the air and shouted with glee as exhilarating laughter filled my lungs. Finally. I couldn’t believe it.
“Avie, Avie…” Devin let out a ragged chuckle, trying to regain my attention. “I know you’re excited, but we’ve gotta focus.”
I cringed, a blush tinting my cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Okay, are you in pain right now?”
I craned my neck up so I could see my lower torso. Devin’s hands were resting on my hips, and his pelvis was pressed directly against mine. He was in. There was no doubt about it.
“Nope, I’m fine.”
“Okay. I’m going to move a little bit. Tell me if you need me to stop. ”
I nodded.
A full-body chill cascaded down me, spreading from my core all the way down my limbs and into the tips of my fingers and toes, as I felt him slide within me.
I grinned, and I looked up, I noticed Devin was having the same reaction.
“My god you’re tight,” he gasped with his teeth clenched.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes,” his chuckle was soft and breathy. “You feel fantastic.”
“You can keep going,” I insisted. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Okay,” Devin replied, adjusting his hold on my hips. “Remember, you can tell me to stop at any time.”
“I know.”
The movements started deep and slow, each one sending tremors through my abdomen as blood pounded in my core. I was sensitive. Really sensitive. Too sensitive.
I cried out, and Devin grinned my hips tighter. He seemed to take great satisfaction in watching my reactions, and after a few minutes, his gasps echoed my own.
Just as it was intensifying, becoming too much to bear, Devin leaned down and aggressively kissed my neck just below my jawline.
“I love you,” he rasped in my ear.
“I love you too,” I whispered back, in so much ecstasy that I could barely squeak out the words.
It felt so good, so mind-numbingly good, that I felt like I was losing my grip on reality. My whole body was under his spell, moving with him as if it had a will of its own. It was involuntary. Instinctual. Natural.
Now that I was twenty-seven and had experienced the world outside of my church bubble, I no longer believed that sex was a sin. That it was reserved for married couples and could only be done in certain ways and at certain times.
But there was no denying the feeling of otherworldliness that it evoked in me. Religion had taught me that it was a sacred binding of souls, and while I questioned the validity of such a statement, one thing was true: I had never felt closer to Devin than in that moment. This was a beautiful experience, and I was so grateful to be sharing it with someone that I loved so much.
It took twenty-seven years for this to happen.
But it was all worth it.
“Avie?” Devin gasped.
“Yes?”
“I…” He sighed as he slowed down. “I don’t think I can last much longer.”
I chuckled, flattered that he was enjoying this as much as I was. I reached up and pulled him towards me, so his slender torso hovered over mine. “Finish with me.”
I could feel it too. The knot in my core getting tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. I wanted it to. I wanted it to be the most beautiful one I ever experienced. But it had to be at the same time as him.
I wrapped my arms around Devin, digging my fingers into his back until my nails made half-moons in his skin. I could feel his muscles tensing beneath my touch. He was now almost as loud as I was.
“Avie…”
“Dev…”
The knot snapped. I pressed the back of my head firmly into the mattress, my back arching as the electrifying pulses of my orgasm made my whole body tremble. My fingers dug further into Devin’s back, and he gripped the soft curve of my hips until my skin went numb.
He pressed himself as far as he could into me, and I wrapped my legs around his lower back, locking my ankles in place .
I had orgasmed plenty of times since Devin and I got together six months ago, even a few times with the dilator inside me. But none of it compared to this, us locked in a crushing yet heartwarming embrace as we waited for the rolling waves of pleasure to give way to exhaustion.
Devin’s breathing slowed, and he loosened his grip on my hips. He was still on top of me, my skin pressed against his, both of us flushed with heat and damp with sweat. Once he finally lifted his head from where it had been nestled below my chin, he gave me the most beautiful, adoring smile I’d ever seen.
“We did it,” I sighed, my own massive grin mirroring his.
“ You did it.” He pointed a finger at my chest. “All those months working with the dilators, getting through the pain…I’m so proud of you.”
I blushed. “Of course. I wanted this just as much as you did.”
Devin rolled off me and curled up on my left side. We were both overwhelmed and exhausted; my limbs felt both light as air and heavy as lead. We needed to clean up and get ready for bed, but I knew it would be several minutes before either one of us would be steady enough to stand up.
“Sorry I couldn’t last longer,” Devin said sheepishly, breaking the dreamy stillness in the air.
I laughed, rolling onto my side and resting my arm on his chest. “I made you wait six months for sex, and you’re the sorry one?”
Devin shrugged. “It’s just been…a really long time.”
“How long?”
I felt awkward asking, but I was also itching to know.
“A few years,” he replied.
Years? Damn.
“Why so long?”
“Just didn’t find anyone I liked enough to have sex with,” he replied casually. “I sort of swore off dating until I met the right person. And I now know, without a doubt, that that person is you. You are the love of my life.”
That sentence made my heart hammer in my chest. It felt like sex was the final hurdle for us to get past in our budding relationship. Now that we’d conquered that task… what was next?
I already knew. I’d known for a while now. With all the days and nights spent together in Devin’s little townhouse, my old life felt so distant. I loved him so much, and I never wanted our time together to end.
“Hey Dev?” I asked, my tone hesitant.
“Yes?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask…we’re coming up on six months now, and I just wanted to know…” I gulped. Spitting out the words was tougher than I thought. “What’s our plan for the future?”
Devin shifted upright; his dreamy post-orgasmic state now replaced with serious contemplation. “By future…you mean marriage? Kids?”
“I didn’t mean anytime soon,” I backtracked, not wanting to freak him out. “It’s just—”
“Avie,” Devin chuckled, tucking a strand of curly hair behind my ear. “I will absolutely marry you. I agree, we’re nowhere near ready, but that’s always been my intention.”
“Really?” My eyes lit up.
“Absolutely. Let me ask…” He suddenly looked nervous. “If I proposed next Christmas, would you say yes?”
My face was red with giddiness. “I think I’d be ready by then. But what about…after that? Do you want kids?”
That was a question I’d never been sure of myself. I liked children, but it had been hard to imagine myself as a mother. I felt like I was always so busy trying to manage my own life, let alone one of a tiny person that was completely dependent on me.
But with Devin, that was changing. Seeing what a smart, kind, mature person he was made me want to have a family with him. He was so good with kids; watching him interact with the childrens’ group at Critical Games always brought a smile to my face. He would make an amazing father.
“Yes,” Devin replied. “I do. Do you?”
“I think I do. Not a huge family though. Just one or two.”
Devin laughed, a mixture of joy and relief in his eyes. I felt it too. It was reassuring to know that the man I loved wanted the same things out of life that I did.
“Imagine them running around the shop,” I grinned, crinkling my nose.
Devin scoffed. “They’d either want to help me and play assistant manager or cause chaos by knocking every single miniature off the shelves.”
“With you as their dad?” I teased. “Definitely.”
“So…” A sly grin slipped onto Devin’s face. “Now that we’ve had the whole ‘future together’ conversation…I have a proposal on our next steps.”
“What’s that?”
“When does your lease end?”
I paused to think. “End of May.”
“Well, that’s five months from now. We’ll have been together almost a year. Do you think you’d…want to end your lease and move in with me?”
“Yes,” I answered, without a single second of doubt. “Absolutely.”
That would be perfect. I already spent so much time at Devin’s place; my own townhouse was starting to feel foreign. It would make moving in together an easy transition. Then, we could truly spend all our downtime together—cooking, playing video games, and most importantly, curling up together every night.
Devin kissed my cheek. “Well as much as I’ve loved this conversation, we really do need to get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”
“I know. Me too. Plus, tomorrow is our first Christmas together.”
We spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up, which involved us both stealing a few kisses in the shower, before settling into bed.
“Good night, sweetheart,” Devin murmured in my ear as he wrapped his blanket-cloaked arm around me.
“Good night, Dev.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
That was it. We’d finally had sex. I was no longer an anxious, lonely virgin hiding her painful secret from the world. I’d set out on a journey to find the love of my life, and after many months of wading through dating apps, I’d found him in the most unexpected of places.
And now, we’d agreed to have each other for the rest of our lives.
I nuzzled into Devin’s chest as we settled into slumber, grateful that he was loving and understanding enough to work through this with me.
And he was right.
I wasn’t broken.
I never was.
But as I lay there in the darkness, engulfed in the arms of the man who was now my whole future, I couldn’t help but feel complete.