More by Molly Roden Winter

Author:Molly Roden Winter [Roden Winter, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

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Later that night, I’m in bed with Stew. He’s asked about my date with Karl, and I’m finding it difficult to tell him anything without tipping my hand. If I tell him the smallest part of the truth—that I had a great time—I’ll prove Stewart’s point: that my interest in keeping our marriage open is dependent on who I’m dating at the moment. Then what happens if my relationship with Karl goes south and I want to close the marriage after all? What leg will I have to stand on when Stewart assures me that I’ll change my mind as soon as I meet someone new?

And then, if I go deeper into the truth—if I reveal that I’m feeling things for another person—I’m not sure what will happen. Will Stew shrug it off, not believing I could be so enraptured after a single date? Will he be angry and hurt and accuse me of crossing a line? Or will it be worse than that? Will he confess that he, too, has developed feelings for someone else?

To avoid these imaginary scenarios, I give incomplete answers to his questions.

“What did you guys talk about?” he asks.

“You know. Usual first-date stuff. Jobs. Families,” I say. I don’t say that Karl showed me some of his photographs, that they are evidence of a beautiful soul. I don’t say that Karl told me about the death of his father, that he started to tear up as he did so. And that I did, too.

“Okay,” says Stew, eyeing me suspiciously. When it comes to most topics, he can’t get me to shut up. “So what does he look like? No, wait. Let me guess. I’ll bet he’s another Anti-Stew—tall, skinny, and a full head of hair.”

“He’s definitely tall,” I answer, “but he’s far from skinny. And his hair is thinning a bit on top. See?” I show him the profile picture on OkCupid, relishing the surprise on his face as he takes in Karl’s girth, glasses, and regular-guy looks. This is exactly how I need Stewart to feel: unthreatened.

“Did you kiss him?”

My mind swoons at the memory of our first kiss. We were sitting on the couch in the bar’s back room, and as soon as the only other patrons left, Karl leaned toward me, a hand on my knee, and said in his staccato English, “I really want to kiss you. Would that be all right?”

I nodded and he kissed me. The most tender first kiss I’ve ever experienced, sensual rather than sexual, his bushy beard so much softer than I’d expected, his thick fingers brushing my cheek.

“Yup,” I say to Stew.

“And?”

“It was nice.”

“Just nice?” He emphasizes the question with his eyes.

“Yeah,” I say. “It was just nice.”

Just nice is exactly what I crave.

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