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The fumbling of the key in the lock told me she was home. Like every week when Olivia went out with “the girls” she told me not to wait up. And, like every week, I did anyway. The door swung open and she stumbled in, clearly more than a little tipsy. I was there to meet her, first with an aspirin and then with a glass of water I’d stirred electrolyte powder into, a little something to make the next morning easier. She snatched the glass out of my hand and all but inhaled it, tossing it down in one large gulp.
“Aww, my knight in shining armour.” She giggled, handing me back the glass. “Have you really been waiting here for me the whole time?” She was in a good mood tonight, that was good. It wasn’t a given.
“C’mon Livvy, let’s sit you down.” I urged, putting one arm on her back and gently leading her to a chair in our living room. She splayed out in the chair, leaning her head back while I knelt down to begin the near impossible task of removing her heels.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I told her, finally getting one off. “We need to get you upstairs soon.”
“Mmm, can we just stay here for a bit?” She purred, her eyes starting to droop. I sighed. It was already almost 2:00 in the morning, late even by the standards of her escapades, and I knew the longer I let her stay here the harder time I’d have getting her into bed. “Just rub my legs for a bit, okay? I’m sore.” She whined.
“I’ll rub them for you in bed, okay?” I offered.
“No, now!” She snapped. Then her face softened. “Please?” She added, giving me a smile. The smile that settled every argument we ever had.
“Sure Livvy.” I said. I leaned forward and adjusted myself into a cross legged position, taking one of her legs and moving into my lap. I gently rubbed the top of her toes with one hand while more firmly massaging her calf with the other. She let out a low moan and closed her eyes again. From my new vantage point I got a good look at her dress for the first time. I could see it was rumbled and almost torn in places, with the crust of what was unmistakably a cum stain right near the bottom. I looked away, focusing more intently on her leg. Of course I knew exactly what she was doing on these nights out. I just rarely saw the evidence of it right up close.
In many ways Olivia and I were an unusual couple. I was quiet, shy, and reserved. She was loud, outgoing, and exuberant. I shrunk around other people, she grew. I was responsible, focused, and careful with money. She was… the less said about that the better. I hated the spotlight. She loved – no, needed it. She wasn’t happy unless everyone in the room was paying attention to her. They usually were.
This also ended up being our greatest strength as a couple. I had never had much of a sense of direction in life. Growing up I did well in school, and later university, because it was expected of me. From there I went off to work, joining a business development firm. I did well there too, at least well enough to earn a good living and pats on the back from my bosses, but again I was just doing what was expected of me. There was always something missing when I went home at the end of the day. Like I lacked a sense of purpose.
Olivia became that purpose. If she thrived off of constant attention, pampering, and praise, I thrived off of giving those things to her. From something as small as making her coffee the right way before waking her up to something as grandiose as planning her dream vacation down to the last minute, nothing had ever made me feel as fulfilled as putting a smile on her face. Making her happy didn’t just make me happy, it made me serene. It was a higher calling. I’d found my role in life. I needed her. And, I know, she needed me, needed someone devoted to her, someone so eager – so desperate – to please her.
Which I suppose is why, when I found a used condom I knew wasn’t mine while cleaning up our bedroom one day, I surprised myself with how not angry I was. It was shortly after we’d moved in together, and I found it wedged in a gap between two floorboards, where it must have been hurled away and then forgotten about. I had never been cheated on before, and always thought I’d be filled with disgust or rage. I wasn’t. I was puzzled certainly; in the eight months we’d been together I had never sensed any unhappiness or dissatisfaction on her part. And of course a part of me was hurt. But something inside of me urged me not to make a big deal about it. So I threw the condom in a garbage bag, tied it up, and promptly went about ignoring it. Just like I ignored the dick pic I saw a few weeks later while borrowing her phone. It was only when whispers started going through our mutual friends about her behaviour at an out of town bachelorette party that I decided I should at least talk to her about it.
“Are you planning on leaving me?” I asked her one night while we were cuddling on the couch together, trying to find something to watch after dinner. “Or is it just a run of the mill affair?” It was one of the only times I’d ever seen Olivia at a loss for words. She just stared at me for a few seconds, jaw agape, before her eyes welled up with tears. She wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my neck.
“Of course I’m not leaving you baby.” She said, gripping me tight. “How did you find out?”
I laughed. “You haven’t been very discreet.” She sobbed again, and I began to stroke her hair, trying to show her I wasn’t angry.
“It’s not an affair.” She said eventually, once she’d calmed down some. “Or, I mean, it’s never been the same guy more than once. Oh God, I don’t know if that’s better or worse.” Neither did I. I said nothing. “I’m so sorry you found out. I would never, ever – ever – meant to hurt you. You know that right?” I stayed quiet, kissing the top of her forehead to let her know it was safe to continue.
“I don’t want you to think there’s anything wrong with you, or us. I love you! You have to know that baby. It’s just… I need it all, you know? God this must make me sound awful out loud, but it’s true. I’ve always been like this. When I’m out and I’m having fun and some hot guy hits on me… I can’t stop myself! It’s like an itch. I’m not thinking that you’re not enough, I’m just not thinking about you – about anything – at all except scratching it. Does that sound terrible?”
It did, but I understood. She was a hedonist. I’d known that from the start. She always needed to go to every party, have an outfit in every colour, try every flavour at the ice cream store. It’s who she was. And I loved her.
It did, but I understood. She was a hedonist. I’d known that from the start. She always needed to go to every party, have an outfit in every colour, try every flavour at the ice cream store. It’s who she was. And I loved her. I indulged her in everything else. Why should this be different? Pride? It didn’t seem like a good enough reason. If my pride said I should say goodbye to her, then I would say goodbye to my pride. I didn’t care what other people would think, or what they would’ve done. They didn’t matter. We did.
“Okay.” I said finally. She slowly looked up, confused.
“Okay?”
“Okay. If… if that’s what you need. Just… be more careful, okay Livvy? I don’t want to know.” She gave one more relieved sob before squeezing herself against me. She moved onto my lap and gave a few happy kisses to my face.
“I will be careful,” she said. “You’ll never know a thing. Thank you.” She started to say more but could tell I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to dwell on my decision lest I change it. I just wanted to put this out of my mind and get back to our everyday life. So she just sat with me until we both started to fall asleep and I carried her upstairs to put her to bed, one of my favourite nighttime rituals. The same ritual I had been about to repeat when I saw the cum stain on her dress.
“Everything okay baby?” She asked while I began working on her other leg.
“Of course,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss the bottom of her foot. “Just thinking.”
It was not long after our conversation that Olivia started having regularly scheduled Friday nights out with her friends. She always left dressed to the nines, leaving me a busy evening at home picking up after her. Gathering and putting away the rejected outfits that littered the floor, tracking down the lids and covers to the countless cosmetic products she went through, and of course a load of laundry to get her towels fresh and dry by the morning (how could one woman go through so many?) It was our unspoken agreement that these evenings was when she would explore her extracurricular fun. Maybe she only picked up a guy once in a while. Maybe it was every time. Maybe never. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to. She came back every time. That was what mattered.
“C’mon, time to go up.” I said, gently lowering her leg to the ground. I could see she was starting to doze, and I knew if she fell asleep it would mean an extra half an hour of wrangling to get her up.
“Not yet!” She pouted, but I could tell she was only arguing for the sake of it, and when I stood to scoop her up in my arms, she didn’t resist.
“Should I carry you?”
“Of course.” She nodded. “I’m a princess. Princesses deserve to be carried.”
I hoisted her up, holding her close as I began to trudge up the stairs.
“You are a princess.” I whispered in her ear. She smiled and kissed my cheek. I didn’t realize how hot and flushed I’d been until I felt her cool lips pressed against me.
When we got to the bedroom I set her down gently on the bed.
“Okay,” I said. “Arms up.” I dutifully removed her dress, folding it and setting it to a chair near the door. I saw she wasn’t wearing panties, and while unhooking her bra tried to remember if she was when she was leaving.
“Do you want a massage?” I asked as she collapsed into a heap on the bed. She started to wrap herself around one of her many pillows, snuggling and nuzzling her face against another.
“Nuh-uh.” She moaned. “Just lick my ass until I fall asleep.”
I was hoping she’d say that. I positioned myself behind her and eagerly kissed both cheeks, not caring that they were sweaty from hours of dancing and grinding… and I could only imagine what else. After kissing them for a minute or so I gently began to lick in between, determined to go until she was asleep. I flattened my tongue and gave the long, slow strokes I knew she preferred.
“All those guys at the club are so much bigger than you.” She giggled, breaking the silence. It was the first sound one of us had made in several minutes. I froze. This was exactly the kind of thing I never wanted to hear. Maybe it was because she was extra tired, or extra drunk, but I was very scared of what she might say next. She broke into a smile even as her eyes remained closed. “That’s okay though. You’re still my favourite.”
And then, with one final yawn, she was asleep.
I began to well up, brushing away a few tears. Tears of gratitude. That I got to know such a woman. That I got to be with her. That she wanted to be with me. I moved to lay down next to her, and as I watched her sleep a familiar sense of awe washed over me.
“I have no idea what you’re going to put me through next.” I thought to myself. “I can’t wait.”
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