“Three,” I hiss out on a whisper. “After two is three and then pull.” Are those stars I’m seeing?
She repeats it on the other side, and even though I hold my breath, it doesn’t get any better. It just gets worse and worse. I literally think my vagina is pouring blood by the time she is done. “Roll to the side and hold your butt cheek open,” she says, and I just shake my head.
“I think I’m good,” I tell her, and she just shrugs.
“Next time, I suggest you don’t wait so long, and it will hurt less.” I just nod while she walks out of the room; it looks like butchered meat, and it feels like it’s on fucking fire. It’s also red, a beet, beet red. I roll off the table and walk to the door. Opening it, I find her standing there smiling. “I hope that you had a wonderful day.” I almost tell her to fuck herself, but I walk hunched over to the room. Troy is waiting for me in the common area.
“Are you okay?” he asks with a worried look.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, walking to the changing room. “I’ll meet you out in thirty.” I go straight to the shower, grabbing the little samples of shampoo and conditioner on the way. The oil from the massage washes off my body, and I don’t know if I’m expecting the water to soothe my vagina, but it doesn’t. Looking down, I see little red dots where my hair used to be, and my little landing strip is the size of my pinky.
After I shower and dress, we make our way over to a nearby bar, and Todd meets us there. I order a pitcher of margarita, and in the blink of an eye, it’s finished, and we order another one. I think I’m on my seventh
margarita when I share my story.
“I looked down, and there was no fucking hair left,” I tell them. “She took it all away.” Todd sits there with his hand on his mouth while Troy slaps the table. “At one point, I thought I was going kick her in the face. And what the fuck is a Bermuda triangle bikini line? Can someone tell me?”
“I have no idea. I just thought it was bare or strip,” Todd says. “I mean, I was with one girl my whole life, and it was right before bare was in.”
“It felt like she took a mallet and slammed my vagina with it,” I whisper or at least I think I’m whispering, but as I’m drunk, there is no whispering. We decide to take the party back to their house, and after thirty minutes, they just invite me to sleep over. When I take off my pants, I scream. My vagina is not just red, but it is turning purple.
“She bruised my vagina,” I say, walking out into the hallway while Troy and Todd laugh at me. “Todd, you’re a doctor, so you have to look. Should I go to the ER?” I pull my panties a bit to the side.
“It looks like a hickey,” Troy says, coming close to inspect.
“Capillaries just beneath the surface ruptured, letting blood seep out into the surrounding tissue,” Todd says, and all I can do is look down while Troy goes to the freezer and gets me a bag of frozen peas.
“Here, put this on your hoo-ha,” he says, and I walk back into their spare bedroom and fall asleep while waiting for the pain to go away.
“What is that pounding noise?” I ask and raise my head, looking around. “Where the fuck am I?” I mumble while I take in the bedroom, the sunlight trying to get in from around the closed shades. The thumping from my head causes me to shut one eye. I raise the blankets when I feel something soggy on my leg. I see the bag of melted peas, and suddenly, the memories are all coming.
I now blink and pull the soggy plastic bag out, and I hear my phone beep from somewhere in the room. I look over at the heap of clothes in the corner of the room and hear it again.
Getting up, I groan when my head spins, so I fall back down onto the bed. “I think she’s up.” I hear Troy say from somewhere and then a knock comes on the door.
“Come in,” I say.
He walks in wearing a black robe with a glass of water in one hand and two Advil in the other. “I come with gifts.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, taking the water and Advil from him.
“How are we feeling this morning?” he asks, smiling. “How is lady town?”
“Feels like I went twelve rounds with Tyson and he bit my ear off,” I tell him after I finish drinking the whole glass of water. “What time is it?”
“Quarter to one,” he tells me, laughing when I shriek.
“In the afternoon?” I say, getting out of bed, not caring that I’m only in my bra and panties, and he hisses when he sees said bruises. I also ignore the fact that my head feels like it is going to explode.
“We tried to wake you at ten,” he says, “but you were knocked out cold.” He walks out of the room. “By the way, you snore like the house is falling down.” He closes the door, and I finally locate my phone.
“Four missed calls from Luca,” I say to myself as I dial his number, and he answers right away. “I’m so sorry. I just got up.”
“Yeah,” he says, and his voice is cold. “I didn’t call you,” he says. “Aiden did.”
“Well, is he okay?” I ask him, getting dressed frantically, but with my headache, it’s taking more time than normal.
“Yeah, he’s fine. He just wanted to say good morning about five hours ago.” He gets in the last jab.
“Tell him I’m on my way home.” I don’t want to get into it over the phone, but we are definitely having a chat about this.
“Aiden!” he yells. “Mommy is on the phone.” I hear Aiden yelling, “Mommy,” in the background.
“Hi, Mommy,” he says, coming to the phone. “Where are you?”
“I’m at a friend’s, but I’m on my way home now,” I tell him.
“Okay, Mommy,” he says, and his voice goes soft. “I miss you,” he says, and I sit on the bed.
“I miss you, too; I’ll see you in a little bit,” I tell him and disconnect. Looking at my phone, I see a strange screen saver, so I open my phone and shriek when I remember that I took a picture of my vagina last night to see the damage. I take it off my screen saver, and I’m about to delete it from my camera roll when a knock on the door startles me.
“Troy is in the car waiting to drive you to your car,” Todd says with a smile, and I just nod at him. When Troy drops me off at my car, I drive home but see that Luca’s car isn’t in the driveway. I get out of my car at the same time as they arrive. I hear Aiden yelling my name from inside the car.
“Mommy.” He throws his hands up. “Mommy.” Luca smiles at him and then gets out of the car, too, unbuckling him. He takes off running toward me, making me step back when he crashes into my vagina. “Mommy,” he says, and I lean down and kiss his head.
“Did you have fun with your dad?” I ask him, and he just nods.
“We slept in the same bed,” he tells me, and I look up at Luca.
“He woke up and was a little sad, so we had a sleepover in my bed,” he tells me. “Buddy, come give me a hug,” he tells him, and Aiden runs back to him. “I’ll come and get you tomorrow, okay? We can go meet Nick and Mona.”
“Okay, Dad,” he says and then runs back to me. Luca doesn’t say anything to me; instead, he gets back in his car and takes off, leaving me a little bit angry and annoyed. More annoyed than angry, but the throbbing in my vagina makes it an afterthought.
“So you had a good time?” I ask him as we walk into the house while he tells me all about his night with Luca. We spend the rest of the day in the backyard, and I get a text from Luca.
Luca: Can Aiden come and meet my parents next Saturday?
Me: Of course.
I respond right away. Putting my phone in my back pocket, I call Aiden to come take a bath. “Dad has a bigger penis than me,” Aiden says, and I look at him. “When he wakes up in the morning, it sticks up.” I open my mouth, and I don’t even know how to answer that.
“Um, you need to brush your teeth,” I tell him, so I don’t hear what else he has to say about his father’s penis. I’m well aware of how endowed he is. When he finishes, he sits on my bed, and I give him my phone to play games on while I jump into the shower quickl
y. It is more to assess the situation downstairs. When I get out of the shower, he is lying in the middle of my bed asleep. My phone is by his hand.
I pick it up, and a text comes in from Luca. I open it up, and my heart stops. My son just sent seven vagina pictures straight to his father.
Chapter Thirteen
Luca
When we got back home from the park, I saw Eliahn standing looking so fucking beautiful it hurt my heart. I couldn’t stay there while she hugged our son after spending the whole night out with Troy.
When Aiden tried to call her, and she didn’t answer, the only thing that went through my mind was that she was somewhere and he was probably feeding her breakfast or at least that is what he should be doing if she slept over at his house. Well, that is after he had her over and over and over again.
I didn’t stay for more than I needed to and then took off toward my parents’ house. When I pull up to their house, I park in the circular driveway. As I push open the front door, I yell, “Mom, Dad,” and hear my mother shouting from the kitchen. I walk through my childhood home, my pictures lining every wall.
Walking into the kitchen, I spot my mother pulling something out of the oven. “Smells good in here.” Going over to her, I kiss her cheek. “Is that eggplant parm?” I ask, looking at the goodness in the glass baking dish. She smiles, her black hair styled just as it’s been for the past ten years.
“Yes,” she tells me and places it on the stovetop. “Why are you here so early?” she asks me, putting down the baking gloves.
“I have some news,” I say, and she suddenly looks worried. “I’m fine; everything is fine,” I reassure her. “Where’s Dad?”
“Outside trying to clean the pool,” she says, looking toward the backyard where my father wrestles with the long cleaning rod. “Don’t tell him, but I hired a pool guy.”
I laugh at her and then walk outside where I hear my father cursing and swearing. “I hate this fucking pool,” he says, looking up when he hears me snickering. “Honest to God, I don’t know why we still have it.”
“Hey, Dad,” I say, lifting my arm.
“Hey, son,” he says, taking the net out of the pool. “What time is it?”
“He’s here early,” my mother informs him. “He has some news.” My father stops what he is doing, looking over worried. His eyebrows shoot together. His own black hair is pushed to the side with some of it falling onto his forehead. “But he isn’t dying.”
He puts down the long pole and comes over. “Should we sit down?” he asks nervously, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“Yeah,” I say, pointing at the patio set that they have. They both share a look. My father goes over to my mother and puts his arm around her, and I know he’s trying to calm her down. Out of the two, she is the one who goes just a touch overboard.
They sit next to each other, my father placing his hand on my mother’s on the table. My parents have been together for over forty years, they still sit side by side and watch movies together, and they still laugh together. His eyes still light up when she walks into a room.
“Something happened last weekend,” I start saying and then look down at my own hands crossed on the table, my thumb tapping the table. “Jeez, this is harder than I thought.”
“Son,” my father says, leaning over and putting his other hand on top of mine. “Whatever it is, we love you.”
I smile at both of them, my mother’s eyes filling with tears. “Remember that cruise I went on with the boys?” I start at the beginning.
“Yes,” my mother says softly, trying to blink away tears.
“Well, it turns out that I have a son.” I finally come out and just say it. My mother gasps, and my father’s mouth hangs open.
“What do you mean, you have a son?” my father asks.
“Well, I met a woman on the boat and …” I shrug my shoulders, not comfortable with telling my parents about my sex life. “I didn’t know her last name, she didn’t know mine, and, well, she ended up pregnant with my child.”
“Oh my God,” my mother says under her breath, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Yeah,” I say. “When I went to my boss’s barbecue for his daughter, it turns out it was her, and she had my son.”
“What is his name?” my father asks, and I take out my phone, pulling up a picture of Aiden and me that I took at the park yesterday.
“His name is Aiden.” I hand him the phone, my chest beaming with pride. “He’s got my eyes.” My mother reaches for the phone first and sobs when she sees him.
“When can we meet him?” she asks through her sobs. “Can we meet him?”
“Of course, you can meet him,” I say. “I can see if I can bring him over next weekend.”
“That would be amazing,” my father says. “So,” he starts talking and then looks at my mother, “does this mean you’re not gay?”
“What?” I shriek. “Of course, I’m not gay.”
“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” my mother tells me, “and we would love you either way.”
“I’m NOT gay!” I yell at them.
“Son.” My father shakes his head. “It’s fine. We understand.”
“Dad, I like women, and I’m attracted to women and only women,” I tell him, leaning forward. “All women, every single part of a woman.”
“You like women?” my mother asks me, more shocked I like women than that I have a child.
“Why would you even think I was gay? I had girlfriends in high school,” I ask them.
“Son,” he starts. “You haven’t dated in six or seven years, not one talk of a single woman, so we just assumed you were scared to tell us that you were gay.”
“Well, I’m glad I cleared this up for you guys. I’m not gay, and I have a child,” I tell them. It makes me wonder if I really give off a vibe that I’m not into women?
“He is so beautiful,” my mother says while she looks at his picture. “He definitely has your eyes.”
“Does he like to play sports? Where has he been this whole time?” my father asks, and I spend the next hour going over all of Aiden’s likes and dislikes. My mother goes inside and sets the table, then pops a bottle of champagne open to celebrate.
She packs me leftovers even though I tell her not to, and I make my way home. My phone buzzes one time and then again and again. When I turn on my street, my eyes look over at Eliahn’s house to see it’s pitch black.
Grabbing my phone and leftover bag, I walk inside the house and grab a beer from the fridge, going to the living room with my laptop and flipping on the television. I bring the bottle to my lips and take a pull when my phone beeps again.
I see I have seven messages from Eliahn; opening them up I literally spit beer across the room when I see a picture of what looks like a vagina, but it’s almost purple. I drop the phone and start to choke and then cough. What in the fuck? “She wouldn’t send me a picture of her vagina,” I tell myself. “Is she sexting Troy and sent it to me instead?”
I look at the phone, seeing that seven pictures have come through, I see the bubble pop up at the bottom with the three dots, and I drop the phone like a hot potato.
When it beeps, I look at it, and it’s from Eliahn.
Eli: I’m so, so sorry. Aiden must have sent them to you.
I don’t answer her. I don’t do anything, but then another text comes in from her.
Eli: Please tell Lauren I’m sorry, and I meant no disrespect.
My eyebrows pinch together. Why the fuck would Lauren care? I answer her this time exactly that.
Me: I don’t think my assistant cares that you send me a vagina picture. I mean, I guess she would care if you sent it to her directly.
I press send and look at my phone, watching the bubble coming up and then leaving and then coming up, and finally, she answers.
Eli: You don’t have to lie about your relationship.
“What in the ever-loving hell is she talking about?” I get up now, not even car
ing, and go straight over to Eliahn’s. I knock softly, and she doesn’t answer, so I take out my phone and call her.
“Hello,” she says quietly.
“Open the door,” I tell her.
“Are you outside?” she asks me, and I hear her walking somewhere in her house. Then I hear the lock turn and unlock as she blocks her body with the door. “This isn’t the best time.”
“Are you naked?” I ask her with a smirk.
“No!” she yells, raising her voice. “I’m not naked.” She opens the door, and I see her in a white robe.
“We need to talk,” I say.
“We really don’t need to talk,” she tries to say, but I walk in anyway.
“Come in, why don’t you?” she says sarcastically.
“What was that crap about Lauren?” I ask her, standing in front of her with my arms crossed across my chest.
She puts her hand up. “You don’t have to do this. You guys are together, and I get it that you are downplaying it for Aiden.”
I’m not even sure I want to answer her or not, so I throw my head back and laugh. “First thing’s first, Lauren is not my girlfriend.” She rolls her eyes. “She’s married.”
“Oh my God. She’s your mistress!” she shrieks, putting her hand on her chest in shock. “How could you?”
“She isn’t anything to me but my assistant. She’s married to Austin, Noah’s best friend. They have three children, but two come from a previous relationship.” I get it all out before she twists the words somehow.
“So you aren’t with her?” she asks, finally getting it. “But she was in your house.”
“Yes, because we have a huge case coming up, and I needed to prep, but I couldn’t show up at the office with a swollen face. Nothing,” I tell her, “and I mean, nothing has ever happened between her and me now or before. Or ever.”
“I just thought,” she says softly, and I want to go closer to her.
“No, you assumed without asking me. Just like I thought you sent me your vagina pictures,” I say, and then my eyes open in horror. “It is your vagina, right?”
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