Passion Takes Time (A Promise of Passion Book 4)

by M. E. Nesser

  I walked slowly to our third-floor apartment. I prayed Martin wouldn’t be home, but I knew he would be. He was very regimented. He functioned on a strict schedule. Even with the rigors of medical school, his behaviors were as predictable. I knew that when I walked into the apartment in eleven more steps, he would be sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water reading something. He would look up, say, “Hi, babe,” and resume whatever he was reading. He wouldn’t ask about my day or how it was seeing the baby. He reserved those kinds of exchanges for when we were getting ready for bed.

  Usually, when we prepared for bed, we’d have a short conversation. He’d kiss me lightly on the lips and we’d go to sleep. Sometimes he’d go back to the kitchen to study. I preferred when he did that. It was frustrating sleeping next to a man who wouldn’t have random sex on a whim during the week or want to cuddle and talk for hours.

  On the nights he stayed up late, I usually grabbed my vibrator from my lingerie drawer and took care of myself before he came to bed, so I could sleep better. Even if I wasn’t on the pill, I doubted I’d get pregnant. We didn’t have enough sex for that to even happen.

  That was another thing that drove me nuts about my sister. She and Jackson had sex all the time and in the most random places. Even when she was nine months pregnant, she told me a story about how they did it in a changing room at Bloomingdale’s. They got turned on by the mirrors on three sides of the room and couldn’t help themselves. I’d never had sex anywhere with Martin but in the bedroom.

  Sadly, Martin was the only one I’d had sex with. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. There was one guy my senior year of high school I did it with in a car. Since it was my first time, it hurt pretty badly. Fortunately, it was over quick. There was a little kissing and some awkward fondling before he pulled out a condom, hastily covered his penis with it and then shoved it in me. The whole encounter totally sucked and was completely unfulfilling, and I liked to pretend it didn’t happen.

  So there I was, about to unlock the door to the apartment I shared with my boyfriend of three years, and I was dreading it. Something had to change, or I was going to go crazy. Maybe I should try again to force him to be spontaneous. Yes, it’s all about attitude, Emily. You got this.

  “Hey, Marty, I’m back,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, forcing a smile on my face. He wasn’t a huge fan of that nickname, but I was trying to keep the atmosphere lighthearted.

  He looked up at me to acknowledge my presence. “Hi, babe,” he said. Then he looked back down at his book. God, I wanted to smack him, but I needed to stay strong.

  I was feeling determination like never before. Things had to change, or I was going to lose my mind. I walked over to him, grabbed his chin, and planted a kiss on his lips. He looked at me strangely and barely kissed me back.

  “How about taking a break?” I urged him with a big, forced smile.

  “Not now. I’ve got a few more chapters to get through.” Of course he did. God forbid he take a few minutes to be with his girlfriend. It didn’t mater, I wasn’t ready to give up quite yet.

  “C’mon, Marty. Just give me ten minutes. It’s been a tough day. I need you,” I pleaded. Oh Christ, now I was begging. I felt more pathetic than ever.

  Martin looked at me like I was a mosquito that kept buzzing around his ear. “I have to get through these chapters tonight. Maybe some other time,” he said with absolutely zero affect. There was never “another time.” There were only the two encounters that were penciled in his very organized and very boring schedule in addition to our quick exchanges that occurred before bed.

  “God, you are so fucking predictable, and I am so over this!” I screamed as I walked into the bedroom and slammed the door. I knew he wouldn’t follow me; he never did. He accused me of overacting now and again, and we never discussed the reasons for my outbursts. He always attributed them to hormones and left it at that.

  He liked things to remain calm and constant. He didn’t like to argue, communicate about anything meaningful, or have any kind of passionate exchange, whether physical or emotional. I had to make a change. For the first time in my life, I wanted more.

  I crawled under the covers and cried. I felt like I cried a lot more these days. I was unhappy and exhausted. I needed something fun and exciting in my life, or I was going to end up back at that psychiatrist my father sent me to after my parents split up. The doctor said I needed to express my feelings. I didn’t like doing that. Every time I tried to express myself with my boyfriend, he shut me down. I didn’t like telling my dad how I’d felt growing up because I didn’t want him to worry. He had enough on his plate raising the two of us on his own. Sometimes I would be able to talk to Sara, but as the older sister, I didn’t want to burden her either.

  At one point the doctor put me on antidepressants, but they made me even more sullen. It felt like I was walking through hazy air. I hated being on medication. After a few months, I stopped taking them. No, I didn’t need a shrink this time. I needed to do something exciting and completely out of character.

  9

  Martin

  I wondered what had gotten into Emily this time. It couldn’t have been her menstrual cycle; that wasn’t due for another two weeks. I liked to keep track of her cycle so I could monitor her moods more closely. Maybe she was ovulating. Yes, that could have been an explanation. Women can experience emotional changes during that time as well. Or maybe she was feeling a little conflicted over seeing the baby. I knew she had mixed emotions over that. Yes, that was probably it. Well, I knew this little outburst would pass. It always did.

  There was so much reading to be done in medical school. It was never-ending. I felt like I could never keep up with it. I wasn’t sure what Emily expected of me, because she knew how much studying I needed to do. I couldn’t believe she would expect me to take a break. The material was difficult, and I needed to stay as focused as possible if I wanted to remain at the top of my class.

  I wanted to be a doctor for as long as I could remember. And now it was happening. I was so proud of myself that I’d gotten into medical school. I’d graduated with a 4.0 average in college. I’d received two bachelor’s degrees, one in biology and one in neuroscience. That was not an easy feat. It was my dedication to my studies and my strict schedule that made my academic success a reality. I surely wasn’t going to take a break to tend to Emily’s silly needs.

  Living with a woman has been very pleasant. It was satisfying to be able to make love twice a week. If I were dating, I wouldn’t have that guarantee of it happening that frequently. Frankly, if I didn’t live with Emily, I doubt I would be able to fit dating into my schedule. Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed our sex life. It was a nice stress reliever. I remember the first time I suggested we do it doggie style. I wasn’t sure if she would be up to it. I was so happy when she agreed to try it out that way. I didn’t know if she would think it was too kinky. Now we do it that way once a week. I really enjoy it that way. It doesn’t usually last long, but it sure does feel good. I was glad she had been agreeable to try something different.

  We do it missionary style the other time. She prefers it that way. I’m not a huge fan of kissing, because I have breathing issues and I find it uncomfortable. But I want to keep Emily satisfied, and I know that is what she needs. It’s comforting to know I can keep her happy in the bedroom. Many couples don’t have as much sex as we do, and I feel sorry for them. I’m sure we will have less once we get married and have children. For now, things really are great. I’m glad I have found my future wife. I most definitely would not have the time to worry about finding a woman at this point in my life. I’m just too damn busy.

  I’ve learned to accept Emily’s outbursts as part of the package, and I am OK with that. I know that women can be moodier than men. Fortunately her moods pass quickly, and life goes back to normal if I just ignore them. Today she must be more tired than usual, because she usually doesn’t slam the door in my face. I’ll just read for a few more hours a
nd crawl into bed. I’m confident things will be back to normal in the morning.

  10

  Emily

  I woke up feeling completely unrested and miserable. When I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, I wanted to start crying all over again. My eyes were puffy, and I looked like I hadn’t slept in a week. I’d heard Martin come to bed around twelve thirty. I felt him lean over and give me a kiss on the cheek. He said good night and rolled over. I pretended to be asleep. He kissed me on the cheek. What were we, ninety years old?

  When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that Martin was starting to get up. He looked at me worriedly. “You know, you shouldn’t cry before you go to bed, Emily. Look at how puffy your eyes are. You should probably put a cold compress on your face. You’d hate to go to class looking like that. It’ll make it appear as if something is wrong.”

  Was he kidding me? God, I felt like I wanted to smash him in the face! “For your information, Martin, something is wrong. I am extremely unhappy, and you don’t seem to care.”

  He walked towards me, but not close enough to touch me. “Of course I care. You’re just overreacting. I double-checked the calendar last night, and it appears you should be ovulating right now. I’m sure that is the crux of your problem. Don’t worry, you’ll feel better once the ovulation has passed,” he assured me like the unemotional blob he was.

  I wanted to scream at him, but that never worked. The louder I spoke, the more he programmed himself to tune me out. “This has nothing to do with ovulation,” I said as calmly as I could muster. “I am unhappy. Law school overwhelms me. I am exhausted and having a difficult time getting all of the work done. I am unhappy about Sara having a baby. You know how hard it has been for me to deal with that situation. Even more importantly, I am unhappy with you.” There, I said it. Calmly and decisively.

  He paused a moment before he spoke. “Relax, and take a deep breath. There is no reason to get hysterical. You’ll get used to Sara having a child in time. Even though her pregnancy was careless, there is a baby to consider now. Your nephew. And you will grow to accept the situation and the baby. You really don’t have a choice in the matter, do you? Secondly, you are a brilliant young woman, and I know you will excel in all your courses this semester. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, and that’s causing those sensations of feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. Don’t worry; I’m confident that will pass as well. And lastly, I know you aren’t unhappy with me. We have a solid relationship. One day we will get married and have children. We are a very fortunate couple. We have an active and fulfilling sex life and a solid friendship. Who could ask for a better arrangement?”

  I knew I’d better count to three—no, maybe ten, or else I was going to strangle him with the tie on my robe. How did I ever think I could be happy with this pompous ass? “Arrangement? I’m an arrangement? You are so delusional. We do not have a solid friendship. Friends listen to their friends’ problems. You dismiss any problems I ever have as being hormonal or irrational. I’m not sure you even know who I really am. I really needed a friend to talk to last night. Not because I was ovulating but because I had a hard day and wanted—no, I needed you to be there for me. You weren’t. You never are. I feel like the past three years of our relationship have been a facade. And as far as our sex life goes, it is not active or fulfilling. For the record, I have never had an orgasm during sex with you. If I need an orgasm, I use my vibrator when you’re not around.”

  He looked at me completely dumbfounded. I knew he didn’t believe me. He was that conceited.

  “Don’t look surprised,” I went on. “Yes, I have a vibrator. It’s in my underwear drawer. Would you like to see it?” I didn’t give him a chance to reply. I walked over to the drawer and pulled it out and walked towards him. I held it up so he was eye level to it. “Guess what, Marty? It works like a charm every time. Thank God something does. For your information, I find our sex life boring as hell. Believe it or not, people have sex in places other than the bed. They also have it spontaneously. It shouldn’t be written on the damn calendar. I keep hoping things will change, but they don’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.”

  Martin folded his hands together the way a father would when he was trying to figure out the best way to scold his irrational child. “I find it hard to believe that apparatus could be more satisfying then being with me. I’m actually surprised you own one of those things. It’s a little tacky, don’t you think? We can discuss that ‘thing’ later, because I don’t have time for that now. You need to stop overreacting, Emily. You don’t know what you’re saying. Things are great between us. You’re just tired. We’re both busy now, but that will pass. You’ll see. Things are going to be just fine.” His calmness couldn’t have been any more irritating. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like hitting someone as much as I wanted to hit him just then.

  “I don’t want fine anymore, Martin, and I don’t want this. I’m moving out.” I walked to my dresser and started to change into clothes for the day. I could see his face in the mirror in front of me. It was expressionless. I knew he didn’t believe me.

  Finally he spoke. “Don’t be hasty, Emily. This is not what you want.” Oh, now he was a fucking mind reader?

  “How the hell would you know what I want? When was the last time we discussed anything meaningful?” I couldn’t help shouting at him now.

  “Every Sunday we reconnect. That is more than most couples,” he rationalized. Now he was a relationship expert?

  I didn’t have the strength to argue with him anymore. He would never understand. When I’d woken up, I’d known I was miserable, but I hadn’t planned to move out. Now it felt like the only option. “I will be moving out after school today. I’ll continue to pay my share of the rent until the lease is up. Then you’re on your own.”

  Martin walked over to me. He put his hand on my shoulder, and I turned to look at him. Just once I would have loved to hear him yell or argue or show any kind of emotion. But I knew that was never going to happen. “You are not moving out. We love each other. This too shall pass.”

  I started laughing. Was he for real? “This too shall pass? Did you really just say that? I tell you I’m breaking up with you and moving out, and that is the best you can come up with? Oh my God, I can’t believe I stayed this long.”

  I pushed his hand off my shoulder, grabbed a sweater, and left the bedroom. I grabbed my laptop from the kitchen table and my book bag and left the apartment without another word. I ran down to the street as fast as my feet could take me.

  Holy crap, what have I done? I thought. I’d done something spontaneous and impetuous. That was so not like me. But I’d done it. I’d finally gotten the nerve to leave him. I’d never felt freer in my entire life.

  11

  Martin

  What the hell got into her? Thank goodness her tirades never lasted very long, because I did not have time for all of this nonsense. I was confident she would be back at our apartment before the night was out. I remember my dad telling me one time that women could be irrational, and it was our job, as men, to appease them as best as possible until it passed. I knew her outburst would subside and things would go back to normal before long. I really didn’t have time for her nonsense.

  I planned to propose to Emily once I finished medical school. It was premature to do it before then, since I was so busy with my studies. Besides, I wasn’t bringing in any income and couldn’t afford an engagement ring right now. I imagined we would be engaged for a year, have a lavish wedding, and start a family shortly thereafter. It was so convenient to have my personal life figured out. It was one less thing to worry about. I could spend all of my energy on becoming a doctor.

  I’d known Emily was the one from the first time we met. We were taking a philosophy class together in college. Although she seemed fairly quiet, it was obvious she was smart. She liked to debate when she found a topic interesting or when she disagreed with someone’s opinion. It didn’t surprise me at a
ll that she wanted to go to law school. I’d always known I wanted to marry an intelligent woman, so she was the perfect choice.

  She was also pretty and slender, which were two of the attributes I looked for in a woman. I’d never imagined myself with someone overweight or unattractive. It was important that my wife fit in with the image I would portray as a doctor. She dressed conservatively and acted appropriately, unlike her sister, Sara. Sara was much more flamboyant in her dress and her mannerisms. That would never do. I had an image to protect, and I knew that Emily would fit perfectly in the life I had envisioned.

  I still can’t believe she threatened to leave. That was such a childish reaction to a minor disagreement, if you can even call it that. I’m not even sure what we were fighting about. I knew she was annoyed that I wouldn’t take a break from studying, but that was such a ridiculous expectation from her. I couldn’t believe how selfish she was being.

  She knew how much work I had to do. I couldn’t waste any time. Being in medical school was an honor and a privilege. I had to adhere to the schedule I created. It would have been irresponsible to deviate from my agenda. There wasn’t time for unscheduled trysts. She should really have tried to be more supportive. Now that was something that warranted a discussion.

  She did act irrational sometimes, which surprised me. She was a bright, aspiring law student. She needed to budget her time much more closely if she planned to be successful. She couldn’t afford to waste time with unnecessary shenanigans any more than I could. Maybe the introduction of the baby was more difficult for her than I’d thought. I couldn’t imagine why, though. It had been careless of Sara to get pregnant out of wedlock. She still had another year of school. It was terrible timing, and there was a part of me that believed she should have terminated the pregnancy as soon as she’d found out she was expecting.