Chapter 64

It was the first time I had been inside Kirk’s apartment. I looked around. The furniture was different, but it looked exactly like mine. I was standing just inside the door. To my right, the dinette was next to me. Past it was the familiar small kitchen. In front of me was the living room. I knew down the short hallway to my left was the bedroom.

Kirk was still holding my hand and I was still clutching the front of my robe to keep it from opening. It dawned on me that, except for the robe, I was naked and inside his apartment. I didn’t even have shoes on. No underwear. But I felt safe. And it gave me a little thrill.

Without releasing my hand, Kirk walked into the living room. I followed. And when he sat on the couch, he pulled me down with him. So close that our thighs touched. Mine were pressed together, but Kirk’s were splayed. Our knees bumped when he turned to face me.

“Are you going to tell me what’s the matter?” Kirk asked.

I couldn’t maintain eye contact with Kirk. His piercing eyes were searching for the truth. But I couldn’t tell him my problem. I couldn’t tell anyone. I lowered my eyes and stared at my fingers pinching the two sides of my robe together. The silence was unbearable.

“Is everything okay with you and your husband in the sack?” Kirk asked.

My head shot up. “What! Why would you ask that?”

“The way you’re acting. What you’re not saying. I’ve seen it before. If I’m wrong, I apologize. Am I wrong?”

“I can’t talk to you about that.”

“Then I am right.”

“I better go,” I said.

About to stand up, Kirk placed a hand on my thigh on top of my robe. That light touch had the force to keep me seated. My shoulders caved and my chin hit my chest. I couldn’t stop the tears. I didn’t even know if I wanted to keep them bottled up. Kirk shifted closer and draped an arm around me. He didn’t pull me, but my upper body went to him like a paperclip to a magnet. I cried on his chest as his hand stroked my back.

“Let it all out,” Kirk said.

I sobbed and sobbed. I couldn’t stop. Huge heaving sobs that wracked my body. All the while Kirk patted and stroked my back. I gathered the front of his shirt in my fist and gripped it. I needed something real to hold on to.

I didn’t know how long we were like that, but I finally stopped crying. I kept my head on his chest and held his shirt. Kirk was now stroking the back of my neck underneath my hair. I didn’t know when his hand had moved there from my back, but I hoped it would remain. I wiggled my head, snuggling the side of my face into his shirt.

We stayed like that for a while longer. It felt so good to be held. To be comforted. Then I lifted my head off his chest and gazed into Kirk’s eyes. His were warm. Caring. He did care for me. I rose up some more and pressed my lips to his.

Kirk jerked his head back, disengaging from the kiss.

“I can’t do this,” Kirk said.

My bottom lip quivered. That was the second time he had told me that in my time of need. This time he couldn’t flee because it was his apartment. Was he going to throw me out? Why couldn’t he—?

My eyes opened wide. “Oh, you’re a homosexual. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I’m not homosexual.”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re married.”

“What if I don’t want to be tonight?”

Kirk stroked my cheek with his fingertips. I closed my eyes and leaned into it, and sighed.

“I’ve had sex with married women,” Kirk said. “That’s not the problem.”

I leaned back. “Then it’s me! You don’t want to have sex with me!”

“Julie, you have no idea how much I want to have sex with you. But you’re not like the married women I had sex with.”

“You think I’m ugly. Is that it?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Then what?”

“The married women I have sex with aren’t cheating on their husbands. Their husbands know about it. And their husbands are having sex with women other than their wives. And their wives know about that too. For them, it’s just about the sex. They still love each other. The difference with you is you’re not doing it for that reason. You are doing it because something happened between you and your husband and you think having sex with me will make you feel better. Or maybe you want to do it to get even with your husband, which is worse. But when the problem you’re having with your husband is cleared up, you’re going to feel guilty about cheating on him. And you’ll be hurt. I don’t want to hurt you. And you’ll blame me. You’ll hate me because of your guilt. I’d be the cause of your guilt. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“It won’t be like that,” I said.

“That’s what you say now, but you’ll feel different later. You have no idea.”

“I do.”

Kirk raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I was taught about sex by a married couple that I babysat for. I had sex with her husband. She actually set it up. Sometimes she was even in the same bed as us. They taught me a lot about sex.”

Kirk hesitated before saying, “But you weren’t married.”

“No, but they were and I didn’t see anything wrong with it. I saw the love they had for each other and how having sex with other people made that love stronger.”

“But that was one experience.”

“Not my only one. I was going to marry my Band teacher when I graduated high school and turned eighteen. Our engagement had to be a secret because he was my teacher, so I went out with other boys while we were engaged. And I had sex with them. And my fiancé knew it. He didn’t mind. He encouraged it. And he was having sex with other women, too. We talked about it a lot. We were going to continue doing it after we were married.”