“With clients from Japan. What choice do I have?” he asks, his voice growing angrier.
“You have a choice, and it’s called me, but you don’t choose me. Am I just some sort of . . . accessory to your life check-off list?”
“No, Lia,” he says as he stands and moves toward me. “I love you. You’re going to be my wife.”
“Then why don’t you want to have sex with me?”
“I do,” he says, his hands going to my shoulders. “It’s just . . . it’s been hard lately, okay?”
“Are you . . . are you cheating on me? Are you getting sex somewhere else, and that’s why you don’t want to do it with me?”
“Lia,” he says sternly. “Don’t even fucking say that. You know that’s not the kind of man I am.” And I believe him because he might work long nights and sometimes say the wrong thing, but I know for certain that Brian would never do that. His dad cheated on his mom many times, and he saw how that hurt her. He always said he would never do that to his wife.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say, feeling shameful for bringing it up. “Do you think we’re in some sort of rut? I mean, you don’t even like it when I give you a blow job.”
“I’ve never liked them, Lia. It’s not just you. I feel bad when a girl has to just sit there and suck on my dick, okay?”
“But what if I wanted to?” I ask, trailing my fingers up his shirt.
He stops my touch and links our hands together. “I still feel like it’s demeaning. You deserve better than to have to pleasure me like that.”
“It’s not demeaning,” I say. “It’s a way to show your partner how you love them.”
He shakes his head. “It’s demeaning to me.”
“Okay, then what about like . . . spanking or toys? We’ve never tried that.”
“Because we don’t need that kind of fanfare. I don’t need a vibrator to get you off. I can do that myself.” Not every time, though . . .
“It’s not about you not being able to get me off. It’s about having fun, doing new things.”
“Let’s just stop talking about it, okay? That’s not a concern at the moment.”
“It is for me,” I say, my voice rising. “I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t want to have sex with me, Brian.”
“Excuse me?” he asks. “You don’t want to marry me?”
“No, I do. I’m just saying we’re having some issues, and I think they need to be sorted before we get married. I think it’s important.”
“The only issue I have is that you seem to be getting these ideas in your head about me, and I have no clue where they’re coming from. We were fine before all of this, so why now? Why are you second-guessing our relationship?”
“I’m not second-guessing, I’m just trying to iron out some kinks, and I don’t think I should be chastised for that. I mean, when I’ve asked you for your support with your mom about the wedding stuff, you take her side. Don’t you think you should be taking your future wife’s side?”
“Why does there have to be a side? Why isn’t there a compromise?”
“Because your mom doesn’t understand the word compromise.”
“Pretty sure she’s cut down the guest list, we’re now getting married in a garden rather than a church, and there are daisies in the wedding to represent your mom. None of those were on my mother’s list to begin with.”
“Your mother shouldn’t even have a list. Your mother shouldn’t be this involved.”
“She’s representing me, Lia. Since I’m busy, she’s taking on the responsibility of standing up for what I want.”
“Oh really?” I ask. “So you believe it’s imperative to have roses at your wedding?”
“Yes, I think they’re eloquent.”
“Please, Brian. You couldn’t care less what’s happening at the wedding. You’re just going to show up.”
“That’s not true. I want what’s going to look nice, what’s going to represent the family, and a day we can remember forever.”
“It’s not always about image,” I say as I move past him.
“Why do you keep arguing about this? You’re getting your way with things. Why are you making a big deal about it?”
“Because if this was what I wanted, we wouldn’t be having it at the club, we wouldn’t be inviting people I don’t know, and I wouldn’t be changing into three dresses.”