"We need to get you a girlfriend." Betty kissed me on the tip of my nose and rolled off the bed.
I watched her Valentine heart-shaped derriere as she knelt to gather our discarded toys and then padded into the bathroom.
"But you're my girlfriend. Right?" I replied.
"Of course I am." Her tone was light, but there was a tension in her voice that made my heart sink.
"Then why do I need another one?" I managed to keep my voice steady.
"I think it would be better if you found someone in your own city," she said. "Someone who would be closer to you. Someone more available than me."
I stretched my arm across the still-warm space on the bed where she'd been. The black cotton was smooth and comforting under my fingertips. Black was a good color for cocktail dresses and leather jackets; it wasn't a practical color for bedclothes. Betty's husband Denny did their laundry, and I knew he would come back from his date with Mark, drop his jaw comically and exclaim, Great Scott, what have you ladies done to my sheets?
I climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom. Betty was washing off our toys, neatly lining the silicone cocks up in a row on a hand towel to dry: red, purple, blue. I slipped my arms around her waist and kissed the nape of her neck. The smell of her set my heart racing again; touching her naked skin was like plugging myself into a gentle electric current.
We'd known each other for years; we both went to the same summer writing workshop, and then kept running into each other at conferences. I knew from the first moment I saw her that there was something I really liked about her, but I'd never been with a woman, and despite being poly, she hadn't, either. At one conference we'd both had a bit to drink and were both riding the high of having made some excellent story sales and before I knew it we were kissing in the elevator at 2am. And then we went back to her room.
It's a cliche to say that I felt like a virgin all over again, but I did. And it was like a new door in my soul had been opened, a room where I was the best, happiest person I could hope to be, and only Betty held the key to it. I'd fallen in love before, but never like this; it was as if every molecule in every cell of my body became tuned to the sound of her heartbeat, her breathing. I didn't feel truly alive except when I was in her arms. I didn't care that she was married; I didn't care that she had other partners. All I wanted was the chance to be with her, to have my moments of pure joy, to have the chance to love her.
"Why would it be better?" I asked her. "Things have been fine, haven't they?"
She smiled at me in the mirror, but quickly looked away. "I'm not making as many sales as I was, and Denny and I need to cut back on our travel expenses. I don't know when I can get out to see you again."
"I can keep coming here --"
"It's not fair to you to have to do that."
"I don't mind. I love you," I said.
"I know you do." She bit her lip, not meeting my gaze in our reflection. "But ... I can't be your only lover. It's too much pressure. You were my first; you'll always be special to me ..."
I let my arms fall from her waist. " ... just not that special?"
In the hanging silence, all I could hear was my own heart pounding. How could something so completely shattered continue to beat so smoothly? I wondered if I might drop dead right there on her tile floor. I held my breath, hoping for oblivion, but it never came to rescue me. In some alternate universe, I had fallen to my knees, sobbing inconsolably, clinging to her legs, begging her Please please tell me what I did wrong I'll do anything to make things better I just want to be with you please, but in this universe I had gone completely numb and was still as a corpse.
The silver lining to abject shock is you get to keep some of your dignity.
"I'm sorry," she finally said.
"Me, too."