“About what?” He smirked, sauntering in my direction.
“You know about what.”
“Oh, that? Well, we can talk about that later.” He hung his towel on the hook before bending down to whisper in my ear, “Because I’m not done yet.”
I followed his naked body into the closet, knowing the only thing keeping him from ripping off my clothes was the fact that Franz had only been in bed for ten minutes.
“At the risk of sounding forty, is there a reason why we can’t have normal sex three or four times a week, instead of Tarzan and Jane sex every couple of weeks for like … seven hours straight?”
Ronin slid on a pair of boxer briefs. “Is there something wrong with Tarzan and Jane sex? I like it … a lot.”
I liked it too. Although, by the time he lifted me onto the bathroom vanity at my shop and rammed into me for round two, like a robot with an endless battery supply, I longed for the days of quiet, slow, missionary sex with a child in our bed sleeping and oblivious to our actions.
“I didn’t say there was anything particularly wrong with it, I just asked if there was a certain reason for it.”
He shrugged, shouldering past me (but not without swatting my ass) to brush his teeth. “I’ve been plagued with so many headaches and whatnot that a moment of reprieve feels like a chance to seize the moment—show my wife how much I desire her. Is there anything wrong with that?”
Wrong? No.
Right? Also no.
It was just … odd behavior.
“Have you thought about seeing a doctor? Why are you getting so many headaches? Do you think Lila is having headaches?”
He brushed his teeth and shrugged again. “Maybe,” he mumbled over his toothbrush. After he spit, he dried his mouth. “How do you feel about sixty-nine tonight?”
Who is this man?
Ronin grinned, delighted with the embarrassment seeping into my cheeks.
“How do you feel about a back rub and spooning?”
“Sixty-nine. You on top.” He kissed me long and hard again.
It didn’t persuade my tired ass to do that. “Back rub. Just you. And spooning with me behind you.”
“Sixty-nine and we watch your favorite horror movie.” Ronin tossed the decor pillows from our bed and pulled down the sheets.
“Missionary and no horror movie,” I changed into my nightshirt in the closet.
“Blowjob and we can be done negotiating.” He poked his head in the closet and gave me a single raised eyebrow with his head cocked to the side.
I curled my hair behind my ears, parking my hands on my hips. “How about you sleep on the sofa and I sleep in peace?”
Ronin rolled his eyes. “Fine. Missionary sans horror movie. Brush your teeth and get in bed.”
I brushed my teeth, took a shower, applied facial cream, and prayed Ronin was asleep. No such luck. He grinned and lifted the covers as I padded toward the bed, rubbing lotion on my hands.
“Don’t,” he said as I reached for the hem of my nightshirt to remove it. “Just get in bed.”
After eyeing him for signs of sincerity or ulterior motives, I turned off the light and slid into bed. He turned on the TV, illuminating the room again. IT started playing.
“We agreed on missionary and no horror movie.”
He rubbed my back as I watched the screen. “Horror movie. I rub your back. No sex.”
I love you, Ronin.
I smiled over my shoulder at him. “Thank you.”
Kindness bred more kindness.
Ronin gave me a long back rub. Then he fell asleep before the movie ended. After I turned off the TV, I slid out of my nightshirt and panties and kissed him all over. The Ronin I married awoke with gentle hands and patient lips. We made love—missionary—and it was perfect.
Three days later, things returned to their new normal. Ronin lost his sex drive, and he spiraled into a depression.
“Have you thought about antidepressants?” I cringed while saying the words as he filled his canteen with coffee for work.
Ronin sighed. “I’m not going down the medication road again. I’ve taken some herbs, they haven’t helped. I’m sure it’s temporary. Sorry you have to deal with me.” He rubbed his left shoulder, face contorted into a grimace.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I woke last night with serious shoulder pain. It hurts to move my arm. Not sure what I did.”
I screwed the lid on his canteen for him and kissed his cheek. “Hope it feels better soon. Have a good day. Okay?”
“Yeah,” he replied with another long sigh.
When he wasn’t on a one-to-two-day sexual rampage, he spent most of his time sighing, frowning, and complaining about aches and pains. His interactions with the kids were forced, at best, and his interactions with me were nonexistent, unless I made him speak and acknowledge me. It was like he ran out of effort to engage after giving what little he had to work and the kids.
I waited for a fake smile, a tiny wave, even a simple glance before he walked out the door.
Nothing.
After the door closed behind him, I released my one exasperated sigh. “Enjoy your day to yourself,” I mimicked the words the old Ronin would have said. “Hope you get a lot done.”
Sue agreed to watch Anya at her house while Franz was in school so I could have a day alone to thoroughly clean the house and go through the kids’ closets to evaluate what clothes they needed before winter.
Loud music.
Caffeine.
And chocolate.
I didn’t let Ronin ruin my time. As soon as I had the house to myself, I found a great playlist and dug into the mess.
Before I could get one toilet cleaned, my phone rang. I turned down the music and answered it on speaker so I could keep scrubbing. “Yes?”
Graham laughed. “Why the attitude?”
“I took the day off to get some stuff done at home while everyone else is gone. What do you need?”
“I’m concerned about Ronin. Something showed up on my desk this morning. I’m not sure who it’s from or why they sent it to me. Maybe because people know about my relationship with you and Ronin.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to say over the phone.”
“Then why did you call me?”
“To find you.”
“Well, you found me. So either tell me what it is or let me get my shit done.”
“Down girl. Really, what has you so pissed off? Is there trouble in paradise? I fear there might be.”
I tossed the toilet brush into the bucket and sat back on my ankles, glaring at my phone on the bathroom vanity and the voice inside it. “I don’t need this today.”
“Evelyn, there’s never a good time for shitty things to happen in your life, but they happen anyway. I’ll see you soon.”
“What? No!”
Too late. He disconnected the call.
I turned up the volume and let my frustration feed me as I tore through my house, cleaning every little corner and crack. Just as I started to go through Franz’s closet, the doorbell rang.
“Please don’t be Graham. Please don’t be Graham.” I opened the door.
“Graham.” I gritted my teeth, shooting his security guys a tight smile.