He stands by the bed, solemn-faced and statuesque as he looks down on me. One hand comes up to his scruffy face, and his gaze trails down to the bottom of the bed, as if he’s lost in thought.

“Take some time to think about it.”

His eyes snap back to mine, his handsome face twisting in an almost-mournful look. “Marley. I meant what I said.”

“What part?” I murmur, frowning back at him.

He rubs a hand back through his hair and breathes deeply, making his pecs swell and his shoulders rise. “This isn’t the best time.” He says it hoarsely, looking miserable now, and guilt squeezes my stomach.

“Maybe it’s too much, then.”

He steps closer, reaching down to hold my hand—except he doesn’t. He wraps his fingers around my wrist, jaw tightening as he stares down at it. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

His grip on my wrist tightens slightly, and I can read the part of this he isn’t saying.

“Only physical. And you want it how you want it. You want to set some rules. You want to be in charge,” I whisper.

His eyes lift to meet mine. “I would have to be.”

I nod. Last time we were together, he was always big on kinky things like tying me up and spanking me. Everything we did felt so good, I never even thought to question it. And now, this go ’round—unlike last time—I don’t expect more. I don’t need more. I’ve been single for a while now. I’ve been pregnant single. “We would have a physical exchange, and after, you would be the baby daddy, Gabe. Just that.”

He lets go of me and nods once. “I’ll sleep on it,” he says quietly.

So I’m left there with my sexed-up room, my empty room, my empty heart, my empty life—waiting to find out if the man who broke my heart will give me something invaluable. Something undeniably strange and probably twisted and very possibly amazing.

The next morning, standing in the kitchen, I put the top back on my pen and peer down at the sheet of lime green construction paper I found in the bottom of one of my boxes, and I admire my handiwork.

The Plan

Gabe & Marley

Needs (Marley):

-1-2x a day “encounters” two weeks out of every month

-Attractive partner with stamina and mystique

-Occasional cider and lattes (both with excessive whipped cream)

Offering:

-1-2x a day “encounters” two weeks out of every month

-Enthusiastic partner with flexibility (in every way – tehehe)

-Occasional meals (of food and also the illicit variety)

**Please fill in the following**

Needs (Gabe):

Offering:

I giggle to myself the whole way down the stairs and up the house’s front walkway. I leave the paper folded into a discreet square and stuck in the seam of his door, and then I ring the doorbell and knock loud and long enough that I feel pretty sure he heard.

I consider jotting my phone number at the bottom before leaving, but decide not to. I don’t want it feeling too official. Of course, I guess it is kind of official.

Would our baby have curls?

I go to work with a feeling of lightness and peace. I don’t feel anxious or emotional about what his reply might be. I’m going to be flexible (as promised) and let what happens, happen.

That’s the plan.

* * *

Flexible in every way.

I snort.

Fucking Marley.

The words of “The Plan” are written in sparkly gold gel pen. All that’s missing is a scented sticker or a lipstick mark. I’m smirking in the foyer, thinking about riding my bicycle to the drug store for some stickers, when my lawyer calls.

The firm has had people on my case day and night for months, and they feel confident at this point—$400,000 later—that they can’t bring a reversal.

Fuck.

I figured that would be the outcome, but…just fuck.

I can’t stay in the house. I end up going for a run with Cora. Then I go upstairs to the green room. After a brief look at my laptop, and I stretch out on the bed. I shut my eyes and let myself drift in and out of sleep. And while I lie there half-dreaming, I play a slideshow in my mind of Marley.

It’s probably dumb as fuck to get involved with her again. And what about the baby part of things? Even thinking of a baby makes my chest hurt. There’s a part of me that doesn’t ever want to see a fucking little kid again.

I think of Marley at the clinic, fixing up sick kids. And how she wants a baby of her own. I think about the shit she walked in on the other day…and what I did to her. And what I did last night. The way I used her as a balm for myself. Selfish. I was a dick the first time we knew each other, and I’ve been a dick to her since the minute she got here. Not because she deserved it, but because I felt like shit.

So fucking selfish.

I try to think of Marley with a big belly. Marley with a baby in her arms. It makes me think of Gen, but I do it anyway, because I can’t go into something like this blind. I have to wipe my eyes, and then I get up and go work out downstairs.

The folded piece of paper still sits on a chair in the front parlor.

I look at it as I come and go. I try to run at times I might see Marley. I even try the six o’clock run time again, but I don’t see her. For three days, I listen to her move above me, and I think of how it felt to be inside her mouth. How it would feel to come inside her. And even though I try not to, I think about her home-cooked meals and whipped cream coffee.

On a Friday, I get an international call and answer, thinking of my many overseas deals.

The voice on the other end of the line is like a kick to the gut.

“Hi Daddy! It’s me, Geneva! I’ve been on a trip. I got my Mommy’s phone. I said ‘Mommy, I want to call Daddy, I can’t keep waiting!’ Mommy said you have to live at work, far, far away. Are you writing a book about palm trees in the ocean? That’s what Mommy said.”

I can barely breathe to speak.

“Mommy said I can see you at Christmas if I’m really good!” I hear someone whisper. “Now she says I can’t.” She starts to cry. My fist is clenched so hard I feel shit snap. “Daddy, why did you go?” I hear her sniff, and then more whispers. “Did you know I have another Daddy now? Mom said you want him to pretend to be my Daddy?”

I do the best I can, for my daughter. Because this child is mine, and she will always be mine. I tell her what her mother wants. I smooth things over. Make her smile.

When the phone call ends, I run to the bathroom and vomit.

After that, I fill the green form out and walk it up to Marley’s door.

* * *

The Plan

Gabe & Marley

Needs (Marley):

-1-2x a day “encounters” two weeks out of every month

-Attractive partner with stamina and mystique

-Occasional cider and lattes (both with excessive whipped cream)

Offering:

-1-2x a day “encounters” two weeks out of every month

-Enthusiastic partner with flexibility (in every way – tehehe)

-Occasional meals (of food and also the illicit variety)

**Please fill in the following**

Needs (Gabe):

-Your pussy, bare and spread for me. My tongue between your swollen slit. My fingers in your cunt. My thumb on your clit.

Offering:

-One hard cock—only sometimes a dick. Plenty of stamina and more-than-average mystique.

In his own neat, all-caps, hand, he wrote: BE READY FOR ME.