“No,” she says, shaking her head in denial. “I was a little sad tonight, that’s all. You don’t make me cry that often.”
“Jesus Christ.” I cradle her face in my hand, and she nuzzles right into it. “Virginia, listen to yourself. I don’t make you cry that often.”
Meeting my gaze, she says more firmly, “You made me cry when you dumped me, yes. That’s normal. Lots of people cry when they get dumped. You didn’t make me cry tonight, I did. I wallowed in old feelings. I had too much to drink and became Sad Drunk Girl for a minute. My choices are my own, Rafe. I can see where you’re going with this, and you need to stop before you get there, because I’m not having it. I decide who is important to me. I decide what’s best for me. You don’t get to unilaterally pull that ‘I’m bad for you’ bullshit. I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, but no. If you don’t want to do this anymore, if our relationship is getting too heavy for you, then be a man and say that. Don’t be a coward and try to blame it on looking out for my well-being.”
I shake my head at her. “That is not at all what I’m doing.”
“Good,” she says, stubborn as hell. I forgot alcohol made Virginia stubborn. I need to remember that for next time.
“Tell me something,” I venture.
She watches me, unspeaking.
“What’s it going to take for you to finally tell me no?”
Cocking a dark eyebrow, she tells me, “I just told you no five minutes ago. I’ve been telling you no all night. Maybe you need to do some memory sharpening tricks.”
I cut her a dry look. “You know that’s not what I mean. I mean for real.”
“I did tell you no for real,” she insists.
“Okay. If I told you right now, ‘I need to get off, and if you don’t fuck me, I’ll go fuck someone else,’
what would you do?”
“Yell at you?” she suggests.
“And then?”
“Glare at you,” she says matter-of-factly.
I crack a smile. “Fast forward past your sassy little attitude. You’d fuck me,” I state.
Annoyance flits across her features. “Are you approaching a point, or are you just fantasizing about how best to piss me off?”
I probably am going to piss her off, but I go ahead and say it anyway. “The night Nicky was born, I gave you the same choice, and you left.”
“And?”
“I’m wearing you down, Virginia. Whether you want to admit it or not, I am.”
“No. Your process is flawed,” she tells me. “You didn’t wear me down; our circumstances changed. I hadn’t fucked you then. I knew I needed to avoid fucking you, so I left, and if someone else did it in my place, so be it. Now we are in a post-coital world. I have already fucked you. Would it potentially damage me to sleep with you now? Sure, probably. Would it hurt me more to let you leave and sleep with someone else? Definitely. We aren’t together, so you don’t owe me fidelity, and you’re giving me the courtesy of a choice. If you’re telling me you have an itch that needs scratched, and it will be scratched tonight, it’s up to me who does the scratching… Then I am making the choice that minimizes my pain, not treating myself like a sacrificial lamb. Don’t patronize me by implying I’m not adequately equipped to make my own decisions, Rafe. This is just another form of you trying to escape the hangman’s noose, I swear to God.” As if I’m a horse, she pets the side of my head. “Calm down, boy, no one’s trying to saddle you.”
I can’t quite stifle a little smile at her audacity. “You little shit.”
Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “I’m just saying, someone’s getting a little skittish. Maybe a snack will settle you down. Want me to see if I can find you a sugar cube in the kitchen? Maybe an apple?”
I nod. “Keep it up, sweetheart; I’ll give you something to ride.”
Grinning up at me, she says, “Are you threatening me? Will you fuck someone else if I say no? Should I wilt? Cower? Faint? I’m not sure what sacrificial lambs are supposed to do, so you’re going to have to help me out. Is there a handbook I can consult? Maybe a course I can take? Self-Sacrifice 101?”
“I’m leaving,” I tell her, shaking my head and moving toward her door.
“Rafe,” she calls out.
She sounds serious, so I turn back to see what she wants.
“I’m not going anywhere. Stop looking for reasons to push me away,” she says, softly.