Sweet Caroline

#15 Forbidden fruit

Turns out the key to a healthy life-work balance and a happy life is sex. Lots of it. It's impossible to feel stressed when you're always riding your last high or looking forward to the next one. I've never been so exhilarated and relaxed at the same time.

Nathan never tells me when he's coming over, so my heartrate speeds up every time I come back home or hear something near the front door. When he doesn't have his daughter, he stays over sometimes, but when it's his week with her, I hardly see him. I get that, respect him for it, even though I still hate it fervently.

Danny keeps calling me, but I refuse to pick up. Fuck him. Figuratively, that is. Never literally again. Been there, done that, didn't like, got called frigid because of it.

Thanksgiving is coming up soon and I'll be spending a long weekend with my parents and Shaughna. I should be excited to see them, but I'm mostly sad to leave town when I know Nathan doesn't have his kid. A small part of me wants to blow off my family to spend time with him, but I know I can't just drop everything for a guy I don't even really know. Where does he live? What is his last name? What's his daughter's name? How old is she? Why did he and his ex-wife split up? I know the answer to none of those question, which means that this is not even close to anything resembling a relationship.

It's just sex.

Mind-blowing sex that often ends with me covering up hickeys, bites or bruises before I can go to work. I live in a constant state of feeling like I'm in a highly realistic wet dream that has to end sometime, even though I just want it to continue forever.

The box of condoms isn't empty when I leave for Thanksgiving – even we don't have sex that often – so I know I'll see Nathan again. Part of me wants to secretly fill the box up so we'll never run out, but I know that's stupid. Even since we agreed on our new arrangement, we've stopped talking about anything even remotely personal. We don't eat dinner together anymore. He doesn't talk about his family – not even his mother, so I don't know if she recovered – and all we basically do is fuck, recover and fuck some more.

It's fine with me. In many ways, it's perfect. I can focus on my job and have a fulfilling sex life. No drama, no fights. Not knowing what he's going through in his everyday life makes it easier to pretend that he only exists when he's in bed with me. In there nothing else matters. No ex-boyfriends, ex-wives, last names, past experiences, feelings... We just live on the fire we ignite in each other, not needing anything else.

Shaughna is extremely excited about the whole thing and keeps asking for details. I give some, reluctantly. I'm not ashamed about my sex life, not with Shaughna who I know so much about that I could never be embarrassed with her, but the more I talk about Nathan, the more real it all feels. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I like that he feels like an escape from reality, a situationship without feelings and complications. I don't even care that we hardly know each other. Our bodies sure do and that's all I need.

Thanksgiving with the whole family is amazing as always. Mom and I cook a spectacular turkey dinner and dad keeps making excuses so he won't have to help, which we are grateful for. That man once managed to burn a pan with only water in it, set off the smoke alarm and set an oven mitt on fire. He's a sweetheart, but clumsy as hell.

"You look happier than last time I saw you," my aunt Charlotte says when we're all enjoying a glass of wine after dinner.

"She does, doesn't she?" Mom agrees with a smile. "That new town and job are good for you."

They are not wrong. I love my job and found a good friend in Tiffany. Annabel and I have tea for an hour every week and, of course, there's Nathan for some wicked stress relief. Life is good.