Henry is so open with me about his writing, and yet I feel like I'm still in the closet about mine, not only with him, but also with me. Every day that I have free, I promise that I'm going to write in the afternoon, but when I sit down and stare at the blank screen and that blinking cursor, I lose my concentration.
One day, during the height of the heatwave, when the days are still very long and hot, we sit together by the pool watching the evening sun set over the horizon.
“This is the most beautiful place I have ever been,” Henry says.
“Yes, it's pretty wonderful, isn't it?” I confirm, absentmindedly.
“But I'm not just talking about the house, or the Hamptons,” he says.
When he turns his body toward mine, his bronzed skin sparkles and glistens.
“I love you, Aurora,” he says, looking directly into my eyes.
“I love you, too,” I whisper and look back out at the horizon.
I remember the first time that he told he loved me, I was sitting on his lap, checking my email.
When there was nothing in my inbox, I sighed and said, “Oh, no, no one loves me,” to which he replied, “I do.”
I thought that he was probably joking, but when I looked at him, I saw that he wasn't. In that moment, I realized that I loved him, too. We had only been together for three days and it was way too soon, but none of that mattered. He loved me and I loved him.
“I love you, too,” I say, turning to face him. “You know that.”
“This summer has been amazing, the best of my life.”
“Same here,” I whisper, giving him a nod.
“Will you move in with me?” Henry asks.
My chest tightens and my heart skips a few beats. I would love that, but I hesitate to say it out loud.
“How would that work exactly?” I ask. “Your apartment is all the way up in the Bronx and mine is on 116th Street."
I hope that he knows what I am thinking without me actually having to say it. It would be foolish of him to give up his place that is very close to work since affordable apartments are very hard to find.
“You don't think that it is too soon?" I ask.
He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head so that his hair falls into his eyes.
"We have been living together this whole summer, haven't we?”
“Yes, I guess we have,” I say with a smile.
My other hesitation has nothing to do with him; it's my parents. They don’t know that he’s staying with me here and they would definitely not be pleased if he were to officially move into my place near campus, which they are paying for.
“Do you really think it's not going to work out?” he asks.
“No, of course not. I'm just worried that you're going to get sick of the commute. Right now you are right across the street from your work, in the subsidized housing that they are providing for you. What about, just subletting your place out for the semester? That way you can test out the commute and see how everything goes.”
He takes my hand into his and leans over closer. "You know, you are assuming that I was asking to move in with you, instead of you moving in with me."
I feel my mouth drop open. Of course, that's exactly what I was thinking. He flicks my chin up to close my mouth.
“God, I know that my apartment is pretty shitty, but you could please do me a courtesy and pretend,” he says, laughing.
We officially move in together two weeks later.
Well, I guess not officially, since my parents don't know that Henry is now living in the apartment that they are paying for, but he sublets his place for the semester and starts commuting to work from mine.
My semester begins and I enjoy being back in the flow of things. It's hard to explain why I like school so much, but I just do.
I like learning new things. I like challenging myself. I like to read and graduate school is nothing if it’s not a lot of reading.
What's good about graduate school is that, unlike undergrad, I only take classes that I am interested in. Most of them require a lot of research and writing, and I like that, too.
This year, I will be mainly focusing on my thesis. I developed my PhD program from scratch, given that there was no PhD in popular fiction available at the department. But with a lot of hard work and cooperation from my professors, I was able to design and put together my own individualized research plan.
Romance and thrillers are the most popular genres and yet critics seem to pay very little attention to them. There is very little analysis and very little interpretation of what the popular genres say about our culture. This is what I am particularly interested in; how they influence culture and how they impact shifts in culture.
For example, the Me Too movement and talking about consent when it comes to sexual harassment and abuse has been a huge cultural shift in 2019. And immediately, these topics have started to appear in the books that have been independently published during the year by some very prolific and very popular self-published writers.
Most romances are written by women and consumed by women and because there are no barriers to what these authors put in their books, besides the market itself, many authors have been incorporating cultural shifts like the Me Too movement into their work. In fact, there are many instances where the Me Too movement is mentioned directly, something that has yet to happen in traditionally published books.
After starting school, I come home every day excited by all of the new things that I’m learning and that are making an impact on me as a researcher.
Henry, unfortunately, is not so lucky.
He is miserable in his job and all he wants to do is quit. Teaching is not his forte. He’s not particularly patient and he isn’t very interested in it at all.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask him while I make dinner on the stove.
Usually we order takeout, but this afternoon I was eager to make something from scratch. Of course, my enthusiasm wore off halfway through the meal, but at that point, I was already too invested.
Walking over to me, Henry flips me around and presses his body against mine. Running his hands up and down my hips, he looks at me with hunger in his eyes.
“No, no, no.” I force myself to pull away. “I can't do this now, I'm cooking.”
“Yes, I can see that,” he says, moving my hair off my neck and kissing me.
“What if we just turn down the burner? You can leave it as is and join me in the bedroom for a little bit,” he whispers.
When he runs his hand up my thigh, my legs open for him. I lose myself for a moment, quickly getting to that place where all I want is for him to be inside of me.
15
Aurora
“C’mon, we still have a few things to work out, don't we?” he asks, tugging on my hand and trying to pull me into the bedroom.
I shake my head, trying to resist him. But his kisses get more forceful and insistent and I can’t bring myself to say no.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, giggling. It’s a lie, of course.
“Oh, I think you do,” he mumbles through his kisses. I don’t want to admit it, but I know exactly what he's talking about.
I’ve told him that I can only orgasm on my own so he has made his mission this summer to change that. Every time, it doesn’t work out, he doesn’t give up and instead just tries harder.
* * *
And we are making progress. A few days ago, I got there just with his fingers and now he wants to try with him inside of me.
“You know, it's very common,” I say. “Not many women can orgasm while they are actually having sex. I've read about it online."
Henry pulls away from me for a second and looks at me.
“You know that I don't want you to feel bad about this in any way, right?”
I nod. He lifts up my chin and makes me look at him.
“I’m serious. I know that we’re playing this game but I only want to go on as long as you’re int
o it. If you don't want me to keep trying, that's fine. This is all about you. I just want to give you as much pleasure as possible.”
I swallow hard.
I've always thought that I've had this problem I would never be able to overcome. Yet there is a man who is standing before me who wants to help. I’ve never thought I would find someone who would try so hard and not get his feelings hurt when it didn’t work.
I take his head in my hand and press my lips to his.
I kiss him softly at first, but then more forcefully and passionately. Our clothes come off quickly and he leads me into the bedroom. Just when we get there, I remember that the burner is still on, and run back to turn it off. When I get back to the bedroom, I find him sitting completely naked on the bed, his arms draped over the pillows.
Henry flexes his stomach and instead of six protruding muscles I count eight. Shifting his weight, he pulls me onto the bed.
“You are going to come for me today,” he says.
“It sounds like a command, and I like it.”
“I'll try,” I say.
“No, you will.”
He brings my hands up to the top of the bed and holds both of them with his.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says.
Pulling out a green tie with gold accents, he secures it over my wrists and then wraps it around the headboard.
Shivers run down my spine.
I have never done anything like this before, and I feel myself getting more excited with each passing moment.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
He takes another tie, blue this time, and puts that one over my eyes.
With my eyes closed, my other senses come alive. With my hands tied up, the rest of me is exposed and overwhelmed with pleasure.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
“Keep going,” I whisper.
Henry runs his fingers down my neck and over my breasts. I arch my back when his hands make their way down my torso. My legs seem to open on their own. But he closes them and says, “Not yet.”
He starts kissing my toes then slowly makes his way up my legs.
This time, however, when my legs open to welcome him inside, he takes it a step further. His kisses which are soft at first, get more rushed and powerful with each moment.
He wants me as much as I want him. A warm sensation starts to build somewhere in the center of my core. I flex my toes to release some of the tension, but it doesn’t go away.
When his fingers find their way in, I feel myself getting close. With my eyes closed, I am able to let myself go in a way that I could never let go before. It's as if I am suspended in animation. I don't focus on him, and I don't even focus on myself. Suddenly, I am just able to enjoy the moment.
His fingers start to move faster and faster, and I feel myself getting closer to that explosion. But then, he surprises me. Pulling away for a second, he opens my legs wider and pushes himself inside.
My body immediately welcomes him in. I wrap my legs around him and push him deeper inside of me. And then, just as our thrusts and movements become one, my body seems to yearn for his.
My heart rate speeds up and even skips a few beats. I feel myself getting closer. But it's not going to happen, right? It has never happened before. Why would it happen now?
And then, it does. The feeling takes over before I realize what is happening.
It overwhelms me and consumes me.
It catches me completely off-guard, and yet I somehow ride the wave all the way to the end.
“Henry!” I yell out.
His thrusts speed up and a moment later he joins me on that impossible high. When he finally collapses on top of me, he whispers my name over and over again, occasionally adding an I love you.
“I love you, too,” I say, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Her voice sends shivers down my spine.
It’s not her, I say to myself. No, it can’t be her. What the hell is she doing here?
“Aurora?” she asks in her disapproving and disappointed tone of voice.
I try to get up, but only then realize that my hands are tied up and that there’s a blindfold over my eyes.
“Get these things off of me,” I hiss to Henry.
Stunned, he doesn’t move until I kick him. Then he jumps into action.
After my arms are free, I quickly pull down my blindfold.
Whatever mortification I feel doesn’t make my face flush, but instead causes all of my blood to drain and pool in the bottom of my feet.
My breathing slows down, and I can barely feel my heartbeat.
My mother doesn’t turn around to avert her eyes.
Instead, she glares at me and then at Henry then back at me. I tuck the blindfold and the tie from my wrists under the pillow, but it’s too late. She has already seen them.
“So, I see that the two of you are still together,” my mother announces, folding her hands across her chest.
I pull the sheet up around my body to cover myself up and briefly glance over to Henry who is already covered up from the waist down.
“We never talked about it much after you left for Montana,” I inform her. “But, yes, Henry and I have been seeing each other since then.”
“So, that little talk that we had?" she asks. “That just went straight in one ear and out of the other?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I have taken it under consideration, but I feel like I have earned the right to spend time with whomever I choose.”
I’m proud of myself for not causing a scene. I could have cried and yelled, but I remain steadfast.
Yes, she caught me in a terribly embarrassing position, but it’s she who walked in on us.
“So, you don’t even think you owe me and your father an apology?” my mom asks.
“An apology for what?”
“Well, we thought that we had reached an agreement with you, and we took you at your word.”
“We did not reach any agreement,” I insist. “You told me that you did not like Henry and I listened to you. But at no point did I promise you anything.”
“And at no point, did you inform us that you would be moving in with him.”
“And why would I?"
“Because we are paying for this apartment. We are paying for your monthly expenses.”
“And that means, what exactly? That you own me?”
She purses her lips and raises her hand in the air to strike me. I shut my eyes and wait for impact. But nothing happens. When I open them again, she takes a deep breath and relaxes her shoulders.
“Don’t be such a bitch, Aurora, it won’t always look as good on you as it does now,” she says.
* * *
“Get out!” I yell, trying to stay strong. “Get the hell out of here.”
I bite my lower lip. My façade starts to break.
“I will. But you better start looking for another place to live,” Mom says.
The first crack appeared when she walked in on us. And the longer we talked, the harder it was for me to pretend that I was okay. When the door slams shut behind her, my tears break free and spew out of me as if they are a geyser.
16
Henry
When her mother leaves, Aurora lies back down on the bed and stares into space. I want to do something to help, but I don't know what.
“How could that happen?” she asks. “How could they catch us like that twice? And my hands were tied up. Why the hell did you put that blindfold on me?”
“I had no idea that your mother was going to be here today,” I say defensively. “I thought that it would be something fun to try. And you seemed to like it.”
She shakes her head. I kneel down before her and take her into my arms.
At first, she resists and then she gives in. Her shoulders move
up and down as she sobs into my chest.
I hold her for a long time without saying a word.
Eventually, she pulls away, and wipes her tears off her face.
“I did like it,” she says. “It allowed me to get out of my head and relax. How did you know that was gonna work?”
I look up at her.
“What do you mean work?”
“Well, you know…” Her voice trails off.
"Oh, you actually…?” She nods and gives me a wink. “And then she came in and ruined everything.”
I shrug and find my pants in the hallway and my shirt in the living room. When I come back, Aurora hasn’t moved. She’s still hunched over cradling her legs and resting her head in her hands.
“Do you want to take a shower?” I ask. She shakes her head. I bring her clothes and lie down next to her.
“It's going to be okay,” I say. “She'll get over it."
“No, she won’t."
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Aurora takes a deep breath and exhales even slower. “I know my mother. She's going to make me pay for this.”
“Okay…So, maybe she’ll make you give up your apartment, so what? You can always move in with me.”
“You know that they are paying for my school, right? And I'm also getting a monthly stipend to live on. I don't have a job. I don’t have any way to pay for anything without them.”
I take a step away from her, crossing my arms. “Well, you are twenty-five years old, maybe it's as good a time as any to learn to be an adult.”
Slowly, she looks away from that spot in the distance that she has been focusing on and turns her gaze to me.
“This has nothing to do with me not wanting to get a job,” she says coldly. “It's everything else. It's my whole life. My parents are assholes but they're still my parents. And I'm not ready to give up on them.”
Dangerous Engagement Page 8
