Stay Away from Her Pt. 06

If you're this far, I assume that at some point you've been on Reddit looking up "how to kill Sims character." Welcome back, sickos.

February

"Hey," Chrisette answers the phone. I can tell that it's Todd on the other end. "Do you need anything?"

I go back to my computer.

"I wish I could, sweetie, but I'm headed to work right now. Babe could bring you some." I look at her sharply with a protest locked and loaded, but Chrisette shushes me with a wave of her hand. "Uh huh. Mkay, sure thing. I'll give him your address."

I let her say her goodbyes before I start protesting. "Chrisette--"

She's barely paying attention to me as she grabs her purse and sunglasses. "His mom died yesterday, Jesse. Yesterday. Just bring the man another box of tissues."

"I thought all his family was already dead."

Chrisette gives me a curious look.

"That's what he told me." I try not to squirm.

"It's his foster mom, the one he spent most of high school with. They were super close."

"Oh." Nothing I learn about that guy is fun. It's never Did you know that Todd was a national yo-yo champion in middle school? and always Todd survived the foster care system. But still, I don't see why I'm the best person for, like, grief duty. So I try, "Well... I also have work. Like, a lot of it."

"You can literally work whenever you want to," Chrisette scoffs, kissing my cheek. "Take half an hour to act like a human."

I'm not done whining. "He has a girlfriend!"

Placing her hands on either side of my face, my beautiful wife speaks sternly to me. "Listen, baby. Sasha is coming back from Chicago tomorrow. You know I can't miss more work until my maternity leave starts. All I'm asking you to do is bring my friend some Kleenex so he's not crying into his sleeves." Chrisette kisses me. "Can you do that for me?"

I pout exaggeratedly to make her laugh and grumble, "Yes." She bites me playfully and escapes out the door.

I don't know why I got the biggest pack available, but an hour later I'm in one of the nicest lofts in town with an assload of tissues in my arms. I can't really knock, so I just kick the door a couple times.

"It's Jesse," I call.

The lock clicks and the door opens up a crack. "Come on in," Todd says hoarsely, and leaves my line of sight.

Following him into his apartment, my heart pounds like I'm entering a cage match. Honestly, the last time I saw the guy was at my wedding. I'm breaking my winning streak of Toddlessness.

He waves me to the large sectional and collapses in the middle of it. It's so fucking uncomfortable to watch him try to think of something to say to me, so I busy myself with opening the pack of tissues. Should I compliment his apartment? Or ask him about his foster mom? Am I supposed to ignore how bloodshot his eyes are?

I sit on the other end of the couch. "Here."

Todd takes the new box of tissues I hold out and puts his forehead on his knees. Can I leave yet?

"Uh, do you, like, need anything?" I ask awkwardly.

Todd shakes his head. I sigh. I don't like Todd. But he's weeping silently into his sweatpants, he's wearing a fucking hoodie, and it looks like he hasn't slept in days. Chrisette told me to act like a human.

"Do you want me to go get you a burger or something?" When Todd doesn't respond I touch his shoulder "Hey--"

Todd grabs me in this bear hug, like, fucking wraps himself around me, and starts bawling like a baby. That's just pitiful. I can't not let him cry it out now, no matter how punchable his face is normally. I pat his head and rock him a little; it's good practice for when my kid is born, at least. I never thought it could happen, but I actually feel some sympathy for him. It's hard to fake snotting into someone's shirt.

I don't know what to say. My family is so small and everybody's alive even if we don't get along; how could I possibly comfort this grieving man? I don't know what kind of relationship he had to his foster mom, but whether they were tight or not he's clearly torn up about losing her.

Patting his back, I tell him, "I'm really sorry about your mom."

Todd's response is to hug me even tighter. He's basically in my lap, wailing and shaking, and I don't know what to do or say. Quit overthinking, I eventually tell myself after all the patting and rocking side to side hasn't calmed Todd down. Treat him like any other sad person. Be nice.

"Hey," I say in what I hope is a soothing tone. Todd lifts his face a little and wipes a tear from his cheek. His lashes look even longer when they're wet, and his pale eyes are less calculating. "You're not alone, you know?" He nods, sniffling, and I kiss his salty mouth before letting him bury his face in my neck again.

Why the fucking fuck did I kiss him just now? That's something I would have done if Chrisette was sad, something to comfort her. Not Todd. Never fucking Todd. But I just kissed Todd of my own free will because he looked miserable and his face was close to mine.

We stay in that position for an hour, Todd occasionally reaching for another tissue, and I shift now and then so that he isn't cutting off my circulation. He talks about his mom, how she showed him what parental love could look like, how she wanted to adopt him but it was such a slow process that he aged out of the system. She helped put him through college. Todd used his first paycheck to take her out to dinner and she scolded him for wasting money on her.

I don't want to know any of this. I don't want Todd to be a real person with problems or a history or feelings. However, my hands keep stroking his back while he talks, soothing him when he gets choked up. I make encouraging noises right when I should shut up and let Todd stop talking. There's work waiting for me at home, and I'm going to have to send apologies to a couple of clients, but I stay on that couch, holding fucking Todd like he's a teddy bear.

Chrisette texts me to see how things are going, then sends a picture of her prenatal vitamins with the caption, "Gonna do a couple lines at work." I show the photo to Todd, who chuckles, and then we go right back to... cuddling? Are we cuddling? It's a cuddly position, but Todd is still a rat bastard.

When I finally leave Todd only says, "Thanks, Jesse," which for some reason feels like the most loaded sentence he's ever said. I go home feeling more sad and guilty than my wedding night, and tell Chrisette that I've been with Todd the whole time. She suggests that I'm more sensitive to feelings because I'm gonna be a dad. Maybe she's right.

March -- October

I feel bad that Chrisette hates being pregnant so much when I've never had more fun. Finally I'm not the only sober one at parties. We spend way more time together now that she's helping convert the office into a nursery. I build bookshelves, and give massages, and take her to appointments, and it's fun because we're gearing up for the next phase of our family. It's like, this is the time when I prove that she didn't settle for me. Her mom was all, "Jesse seems very attentive," and Chrisette goes, "Yeah, he's been amazing," even without knowing I could hear her. Plus, she gets crazy horny at random times. It feels like when we first started dating, only we're both trying as hard as I used to. She doesn't even make fun of me that much when I ask her to be a little aggressive with me.

Best of all it feels like Todd has finally developed some sense of boundaries. He isn't calling Chrisette up all the time, or dropping by just whenever, or cornering me to stick his hand down my pants. When he's not around Chrisette and I are just in love, just us as we're supposed to be. Nearly nine months of unadulterated bliss, minus Chrisette's morning sickness and tiredness and the general discomfort of growing a human in her uterus. Then the sole proudest day of my life, and then three weeks of trying to set a regular sleep schedule for baby Seth and coaxing Chrisette to take her postpartum medication.

Chrisette starts going out again. I encourage it so that she can see her friends; she hates feeling cooped up at home but doesn't like taking Seth with her because she gets anxious about him. Sure, it means that she's hanging around Todd again, but as Chrisette puts it: "My pussy still feels like a gaping wound."

At least if Todd is around he has enough sense to stay out of our house. I mean, it's not like I miss having sex with him. That would be fucking insane. Chrisette is probably keeping him away on purpose anyway. Who would trust that snake with an infant?

I know it's the first-time-parent paranoia, but I can't stand to have my child out of my sight for long when Chrisette isn't there. So Seth and I hang out a lot. He becomes an extension of my body; I have him on me during meetings, when running errands, and the bassinet is in arm's reach when I cook. All the practice I did with diaper changes pays off, and though I'm not getting much work done it doesn't seem to matter when a tiny human being is morphing and growing in front of my very eyes. However, I'm fucking exhausted all the time. It barely registers when Chrisette starts working weekends.

"It's like they didn't know what to do with my cases, so they just stalled until I was back. The whole thing is a mess," she complains as she nurses Seth one morning.

"It's a corporate merger; shouldn't they have a whole team of lawyers to help?" I ask, though when I see her expression I clarify, "It's not fair to you, is all."

She sighs. "I wish, Babe, but we're in crisis mode."

I don't know jack shit about lawyering, so I trust her on that. TV would have me believe that lawyers are always in crisis mode, so I'm grateful for any time Chrisette spends at home. There's one time when her assistant messages me to say that he can't get a hold of Chrisette. I'm trying to feed Seth and myself at the same time, so I write back, She's probably still at lunch. And he says, Oh sorry. I thought she said she was running home. The baby in my arms distracts me from thinking too much more about it, but when I plug my phone in that night I see the text chain.

"Oh hey," I yawn as Chrisette crawls into bed, "did the office get a hold of you today?"

"What?" she asks. Her tone tells me that I'm close to catching a stray for her work being overbearing, so I wave it off.

"Nothing big. Aiden texted me that he couldn't reach you," I say through another jaw-cracking yawn, "and thought you might be home for lunch."

"Oh! I was at the doctor's office and left my phone in the car," Chrisette explains. I'm so fucking proud of her that she actually went to an appointment, but sometimes Chrisette gets irritated when I congratulate her for doing something she already knows she's supposed to do. She says it makes her feel infantilized, which I can understand. Instead I ask, "Any updates?"

It's Chrisette's turn to wave her hand dismissively. "It was just to renew my prescription."

In the morning, when I'm updating our shared calendar, I see the appointment missing from yesterday's schedule. But I'm a good husband, so I mark it down with a reminder in twenty-eight days to go back for a refill.

November

The week before my wedding anniversary, Sasha is the last person I expect to show up on my doorstep. I don't know her well enough to read her expression, but she seems tense.

"Uh, Chrisette isn't--"

"I know," Sasha interrupts. "I need to talk to you." She brushes past me before I can fully open the door. My brain starts racing at the kind of bad news she might be delivering. "Is someone hurt?"

"No." She huffs at herself. "Well, maybe my ego."

Oh no. Oh shit. Don't say it.

"Todd and Chrisette are sleeping together. I caught them."

Deep down I knew this was going to happen eventually, but it still makes my knees weak. I sit down.

"You're sure?" My voice sounds like it's coming from somewhere else. I clear my throat. "Sorry, I believe you, I just..."

Sasha paces in front of the television. "I came home on my lunch break and walked in on them. She is supposed to be my best friend. This has obviously been going on for a while, but I was so confident that I was enough--I mean, fucking look at me!" she exclaims, gesturing angrily. "I don't get cheated on! And who the fuck does that to their friend? You think you're pretty smart, right? Like you're a good judge of character, and then you find the characters you judged to be good fucking on the kitchen island."

The tirade stops when she looks down at me.

"Jesse, I'm sorry," Sasha says. "I was so mad and I thought you had the right to know. Or I just wanted you to know so I wasn't alone in my rage."

I shake my head, feeling heavy. "It's not your fault, Sasha. They're grown-ass adults, and they know better. And to be honest--"

"You saw this coming?" Sasha finishes. The poor woman. She looks so sad.

I nod.

She shakes her head. "I should be more upset about my cheating boyfriend, but I always felt like Chrisette only set us up because she couldn't save him for later; you know what I mean? Always telling us how perfect we were for each other, how cute we were as a couple, like, protesting too much, you know? And Todd was always so weird about you two. But moving in together was his fucking idea, so why would I be worried that he's waiting for Chrisette to dump you, right?"

I rub my eyes, feeling old. "Fucking why?"

Sasha's mouth screws up. "Todd keeps everybody at arm's length, which I think is because he's holding onto some deep childhood shit," she says. "I thought I could handle him, which was a mistake."

We both stare at the floor for a second. What are the two of us supposed to do about it?

"Um, do you want to see Seth? He hasn't been out much, so..."

Sasha seems startled by my offer. "Oh, thanks, but I'm not really a baby person."

"Neither is his mom," I grumble before I can shut up.

"Jesus H. Christ," Sasha kind of laughs, "we picked some real pieces of shit to fall in love with, huh?" She picks up her purse to leave.

"Sasha."

She turns around.

"Seriously, thanks."

Sasha nods and closes the door behind her.

Fucking Todd calls me that night.

"The fuck do you want?" I answer the phone.

He sighs. "I'm sorry, Jesse."

"No you are fucking not. Congratulations: after all these years you got what you wanted."

"Look, man, it was me or a one-way ticket to Amsterdam. Chrissy's seriously going through some shit."

"Some shit?!" I cannot believe the words coming out of his mouth. "There's a clinical term for what she's going through. She got it diagnosed very easily. There's even medication that she isn't taking. Chrisette has a son. His name is Seth. Who she needs to come take care of because I can't fucking do it by myself. She won't feed him. She won't hold him. She comes running to you, and instead of being the friend you always claimed to be, you fuck her."

"Jesse--"

"Of course, she's gonna be happier away from her actual family. You're helping her to pretend that she isn't a goddam new mother."

"She's depressed..."

"I fucking know! And I know it isn't her fault, but you know what is? Not taking her pills. Skipping therapy. Canceling appointments. Choosing not to deal with it like a fucking adult and running off to a fantasy affair with Señor Sociopath!"

My voice gets too loud; Seth's wail starts up in the nursery.

"Jesse, listen for a fucking second."

"I can't," I snap. "Seth just started crying, so I have to go take care of him so that he can live to cry another day. Fuck off forever." I don't even bother hanging up when I shove the phone in my back pocket. It's an hour and a half before Seth calms down enough for me to put him back in his crib. He stares at his zoo mobile for a few minutes before going to sleep. I take up my customary place in the rocking lounge chair. It's too small for me; Chrisette picked it out.

This has to be my fault somehow. Everything that happened with Todd, all that guilt building up and me not saying anything--somehow that got pushed on Chrisette, and then when she got pregnant she couldn't be happy because she was so worried about what kind of world she'd be bringing a kid into or something. Chrisette is the only person in the world who ever wanted me as much as I wanted her, and I threw all that away for a couple minutes of physical satisfaction. I broke it, so I should fix it, right? Right?

A week later Todd calls me when I'm feeding the baby.

"Please fuck off unless you're informing me that my wife is coming home," I say in a singsong voice.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Because I have a little baby boy in my arms, yes I do. Yes I do!"

Seth, smiling around his bottle, flails at me.

"Well, Chrisette is on her way over there--"

"Oh, boy, Mommy's coming home!"

"--but I just want you to know that she told me what she wanted to say to you, and I just want you to know that none of it was my idea."

"What's with the sudden change of heart? Did you steal somebody else's conscience? Is that what you did?" I tickle my son's round little belly. "I'll bet you did!"

Seth finds this conversation stimulating, at least.

"Naw, man, I just..." Todd sighs like the weight of the world is on his chiseled shoulders. "You were right, I should have sent Chrissy home. I'm sorry."

I say nothing, hoping belatedly that I seem cool instead of dumbfounded. When was the last time someone genuinely apologized to me? Thanks to my temper I'm usually the one in the wrong. Not that I'm blameless here, even, but like... an I'm sorry is kinda nice.

When Chrisette walks in alone I feel my jaw unclench. It's only been a week but she does look good--the bags under her eyes are smaller, her skin is glowing, and her sweater shows off her new cleavage. If she told me to drop my pants for her now, I'd do it. She puts her bag down, hangs her coat up, and folds her arms. I wait.

Chrisette wastes no time setting her conditions. "I want Todd to move in with us."

"What." My voice is completely flat; my wife has lost it.

She gestures nonchalantly. "He's a positive spirit, his lease is almost up, and since he's not always tied to an office he can help me out with Seth while I work."

I want to shake her. Help her with Seth? I take care of Seth. Seth is a positive spirit. I work at home. Todd spends half his life on active construction sites.

"That isn't a good idea, Chrisette."

"You know that if we get divorced, I'll get custody."

I can't breathe for a moment. If we get what now? I hadn't even thought about it, much less if I would get custody of my son. Chrisette was supposed to get better. Nobody had been around to see how she has been acting, nobody but Todd would know that she was out every night and not coming home. He wouldn't do a damn thing to help me. I can't lose Seth.

"I don't want a divorce," I say honestly trying to sound like sweat didn't just start beading around my hairline.

She folds her arms. "Then let Todd move in."

"Chrisette, that's weird. There's nowhere for him to sleep."

She just stares at me.

I get it. "No way. No fucking way."

"Then enjoy mixing formula for your monthly visitation days."

"Chrisette, that is fucking extreme!" I'm trying to stay calm, but it's damn hard to not yell.

She explodes. "I did not stop being a person just because something fell out of my uterus! I'm still young! I have goals, and feelings, and needs, and I'm more than just that baby's milk cow!"

Spreading my hands passively, I count to ten and use my NPR voice. "Nobody thinks of you as a milk cow," I reply carefully, "but this is some important, like, bonding time that you're missing. You're also ignoring your own well-being, and I want to help. Seriously. Chrisette, just be here so we can figure shit out. We don't need Todd to do that." There's a headache forming above my right eye.

"I need him," she insists.

"Are you for real right now? You understand that more changes won't--"

Chrisette cuts me off. "Do not mansplain postpartum to me, Jesse," she seethes. "And if you love me the way you say you do, then you will trust that I know what I fucking need. And you will listen to me."

This is emotional abuse, I almost say, but is that my wounded man pride talking? If I get defensive then I'll push her right back into the slimy embrace of do-whatever-you-want Todd.

"I love you, and I want you to love yourself as much as I do," I finally say. "Can you please just try doing what Dr. Gupta suggested?"

Chrisette seems to soften a little. "Yeah, Babe. I'm sorry that this is weird for you."

"Well--"

She cuts me off. "This is just part of my healing. Giving birth is traumatic, okay? Todd will help me be good to you."

"Fucking how?" I bust out before I can stop myself. It's the wrong thing to say, obviously. Chrisette both shrinks into herself but seems to grow three feet taller.

She talks through clenched teeth. "It's either me and Todd together, or you're on your own. Pick, Jesse."

I can't. What if her parents find out? What if Seth likes Todd more? What if I have to watch her be in love and she's happier than she ever was with me?

"Tell Todd to meet me by the fountain at Carver Park at eleven tomorrow," I finally say, trying to sound firm. "If this is happening, and he's going to be here while I'm working, then there are some ground rules that we need to go over."

Chrisette just rolls her eyes.

"And you," I point right at her tits, "are going to start pumping so I'm not feeding our son formula every damn day. Feed him yourself when you're home and take your fucking pills."

"You don't get to tell me how to be a parent."

"I wouldn't have said anything if I'd thought you would do it. I can't believe I have to negotiate with you about being a good fucking mom right after you were whoring around." Again it's wrong thing to say, but I'm hurting so badly that I don't know how to be kind.

Chrisette closes in on me like a shark. I've never been scared of her before. "If you," she says in a low, slow voice, "ever talk to me like that again I will leave you. I will pack up that kid and you will never see us again."

"Chrisette--"

"I will take out a restraining order on you. Do you understand me? If you fucking ever use that kind of language about me, if you raise your voice, I will haul you into a fucking courtroom and have you put on a list."

I want to shrink into myself like a turtle. "Sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

She narrows her eyes, but relaxes a little. Right on time, Seth's little hungry cry starts up.

"Please--"

"I fucking know, Jesse!"

"Sorry."

Chrisette makes me text Todd, myself. It's the first message I've ever sent to the bastard, but he must have saved my number because he responds immediately with a simple, Can do. I guess structural engineering isn't all that demanding if he can just drop work to sit in a cold-ass park.

If I look at it sideways and squint a little, this meetup is a good thing. I shower and put on adult clothes for the first time in days. Seth is bundled up and experiencing the outdoors. There are some squirrels and shit scurrying around, so even if there's no live grass to touch there's still wildlife.

Todd actually looks happy to see me. Maybe he got dropped on his head as a child. "I'd never do that to you," I whisper to Seth, whose little mouth works in his sleep.

"Hey, thanks for meeting me here," Todd greets me like he called this shindig. "The beard is new. Looks good, man."

"Chrisette said she'll only move back if you move in with us," I reply. No use dragging this shit out.

He hold his arms out. "May I hold him?"

I narrow my eyes. This is some sort of trap. Todd's actually some sort of goblin who steals babies and turns them into circus animals. "Did you hear any of what I just said?"

"Yeah, and I want to hold Seth." He curls his fingers a couple times; that gimme gimme gesture. It makes me want to cut him on the face.

Nevertheless I hand over the most precious being in my life to the asshole ruining my marriage. Todd takes my son like he's just been handed a billion dollars. His face lights up, he smiles in a way that I've never seen, and settles Seth into the crook of his arm.

"Hey, handsome," he says softly as he runs his fingertip down Seth's chubby little cheek. "You look like your daddy. I'll bet you're the sweetest little boy in the world."

I smile at that; it's hard not to when someone compliments my boy. He is handsome, he does look like me, and he is the best baby in the world. Seth opens his eyes just a little bit and yawns.

"Why, good morning, sleepy boy. Aren't you adorable?" Todd croons. You'd think he'd never seen a baby before. "He has your nose, I think."

It's cold and I shouldn't want to be here. "I'm concerned that Chrisette is creating more problems instead of, like, getting counseling for the ones she already has. And that she's using you as a buffer between expectations and reality." I sigh and scratch my head. "But Seth needs his mom."

"You don't want me there," Todd states matter-of-fact. "God, why do babies' heads smell so good?"

"I don't want you anywhere," I reply bluntly, "but Chrisette claims that you're the only reason she hasn't left for to Indonesia to 'find herself,' so I'll work with what I got." I want to say more. I want to tell somebody, even fucking Todd, about the threats she made and how I can't sleep for fear that she'll make good on them.

He kisses my son's head again. "That's pretty fucked up, man," Todd says.

That strikes me as so bizarre, this cuckolding, life-ruining, ass-fucking, manipulative motherfucker suddenly gaining a moral compass. I don't know why I'm laughing so hard. I don't know why I'm laughing at all. Maybe it's because I'm on a park bench in the middle of fucking winter, trying to negotiate goddam Todd moving in with me and my wife while he makes faces at my infant son. When did I become the craziest person I know?

"That is fucked up," I agree when I catch my breath. "What's worse is that she means it."

Todd shrugs. "It's impossible to know what she's going through, though."

I fucking know that! Ugh, this fucking guy. "She says she needs you around, so fine. You're around. Here's how you stay around." I tick off the rules on my fingers. "Do not touch me. Do not even imply that anything was ever between us. Pay for a third of monthly utilities and the mortgage. Park on the street. Store your extra shit somewhere that is not my house. Help with cooking and housework. Stay out of my way, especially when I'm working."

Touching my son's nose playfully, Todd goes, "Whatever you want, Babe," in a way that could either mean he's planning to break every rule on purpose or that he wasn't paying attention to me at all.

And that's it. I'm still looking at air mattress reviews when Chrisette announces that Todd will be here in a couple minutes. We got him some space in the closet and cleared out a spot for bathroom stuff, but that's it. I'm not ready for a house guest. Roommate. Throuple.

She's so excited when he arrives. I don't move from the dining room table. Todd gives Chrisette a quick hug and lifts a carton. "I brought Babe some ginger beer."

Is this supposed to be a fucking host gift?

"Ooh, we can make Dark and Stormies!" Chrisette says excitedly, but Todd holds it away from her.

"These are for your husband, for being as supportive as he is able at this juncture in your relationship."

If I speak I'm going to curse them both out, so I say nothing. Todd meets my eyes--if I could incinerate him with my gaze I would--and puts his back to me.

"I'm actually just stopping by; I need to take some more stuff to the storage unit," he says.

Chrisette holds his arm affectionately as she offers, "We can help you, if you want."

Even before I can say We fucking cannot, Todd chuckles like she's being ridiculous. "Don't volunteer Jesse for this, goober. I need to take some measurements--"

"For what?" my wife asks.

"My couch has a pretty comfy pull-out bed." Now Todd glances back at me, and it's like yeah bro, this feels like a detail you should have worked out beforehand.

Chrisette pshaws. "No, no, no. We are grown adults; no one is going to sleep on a sofa bed."

It feels like a rock is growing in my stomach. "We talked about this. Let him at least see if the couch fits, baby," I say, trying to sound casual about it. But my voice sounds weird and they both turn toward me.

The woman I married, who I thought chose me, leans around her side piece protectively. "We did talk about this, and I said he's not sleeping on the couch. Or an air mattress. If you don't like it, you sleep on the couch."

"I am not sharing our bed with another fucking person," I shout, and Todd raises his eyebrows. Fuck him.

Chrisette folds her arms. "It's a fucking California king."

The baby monitor sounds. Seth is awake, probably thanks to the loud noises I just made. All I do is open my mouth and Chrisette throws her hands up.

"I already fucking know, Jesse." She stomps to the nursery.

Todd decides to follow that with: "You're being a touch hypocritical, don't you think?"

"You are a certified life-ruiner," I say. It must sound exactly like I mean it, because that seems to take the wind out of his sails.

Todd gestures helplessly. "She's taking her pills."

And feeding Seth. I suppose that's what I wanted. "Honestly--and you're the only person I've ever said this to--I wish I had never met you."

"Harsh."

I rub my forehead. I've been getting a lot more headaches lately. "Do you have a plan, here?" I ask tiredly. "Like, five years from now, when Seth is in school, are you coming to parent-teacher conferences? Am I cooking for four? Does Chrisette still want you around?" I have more questions, all the shit that keeps me up at night.

Todd shrugs his shoulders, which I now know means he's already thought about it and just refuses to say. "Look; I'll make sure that in the bed we only sleep." Like he could promise that.

"How goddam saintly of you," I say flatly.

"And that Chrissy is in the middle."

"Again, good sir, you are too fucking kind."

"We're helping her keep herself alive, Jesse," Todd says sharply, and I look over at him.

Neither of us was supposed to say it. Of all people, of all the smart, good, wonderful people, Chrisette shouldn't have to... It's not right. I shouldn't try to, like, armchair diagnose her, and she'd be the first to remind me that men trying to explain women's issues without listening to a single woman is how we got here in the first place. "She won't, uh, when I ask, um," I clear my throat; suddenly thick. "Could you see if she'll think about therapy?"

Todd tilts his head. "Have you?"

"I went for a few months," I reply defensively, "but my insurance doesn't cover it and the cost was, well, whatever."

"You're not on Chrissy's insurance?" He asks like it should be s stupid questions with an easy answer.

"No, she said it wouldn't make a difference until we got married, and then... I don't know. Like you say, this is about keeping Chrisette alive. It's not about me."

"No, I don't think it is," Todd agrees.

If I rub my eyes hard enough I won't fucking cry. "Why couldn't you leave her alone? Sasha is a fucking ten, bro. And," Ooh shut up Jesse shut up shut up "all that shit you did to me, then, what was the point?"

Todd was silent long enough that I thought he was getting ready to say something real, but he just goes, "I'd do anything for Chrisette."

I shouldn't have fucking asked. I knew--I knew!--I should never allow myself to wonder; that way lies danger. There be dragons. But I had to fucking whine like I didn't know all along that the bastard only messed with me because I was with the woman he wanted. I was a goddam proxy, and I knew that from the start, and I didn't need to get my dumb little feelers extra hurt by making Todd tell me directly.

With a deep, calming breath, I put my headphones on to indicate that I'm done with him for now. "Stay away from me, bro. That's the only way this works."

from December on

There's a routine I find--waking up when Seth does at five-thirty, doing some chores before everyone else is awake, working between feeding and changing Seth, taking meetings when he naps, and then cooking dinner so that it's ready when Chrisette gets home. I hand Seth off to her for half an hour while I shower. She puts him down at seven-thirty, and then I have three hours until Seth wakes up again. If Chrisette is still home she feeds him, but usually Seth gets a bottle and I have him back in his crib before midnight. Chrisette tells me that she gets up with him in the night, but I know that Todd often does it instead. I'm just glad I get to sleep.

Ma Shen calls me one time, and for a second I think she's going to offer to help, but she just shouts at me. English, then Mandarin, then English again, and eventually I just put the phone on the table and mute myself while she yells.

"Useless! What kind of household are you running?"

She's mostly angry at Chrisette, I tell myself, and probably embarrassed. Then again, Pa Shen told me plenty of times that I couldn't handle their daughter.

After about ten minutes I cut in. "Seth's going to wake up any minute, so I've gotta go. I'd love for you to see him if you'd like to stop by, just let me know." I should let her respond, but it feels good to hang up on her.

What kind of household am I running? Fuck if I know. I'm too tired to do anything but work and parent; Chrisette tells me one time that she fucked Todd in the bed right next to me and I slept through it. Todd tells her to shut up, which means she's telling the truth even though he guaranteed me no fucking in my bed. Doesn't make any difference if I know about it. Nothing feels like anything anymore.

One time Todd--fucking Todd--looks at me sideways and goes, "You okay?"

"Fine and fucking dandy, bro," I reply. I have a deadline.

"How long has it been since you went to Guys' Night?"

I shrug. I can't imagine trying to answer a how's-life question from the guys. I don't want to talk about myself anymore, ever. Plus, Chrisette doesn't like them.

Todd has a follow up. "Or hung out with anyone who isn't us?"

I look up from my tablet. Todd is giving me this worried face that goes away almost immediately. I want to tell him that he's the problem, but I can't muster up the energy. "I'm fine."

"Have you eaten today?"

I can't remember, so I ignore him. A few of minutes later a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup appears on the desk. I look up at Todd.

"I'll leave you alone if you eat it."

He stares at me until I pick up the spoon. It tastes fine, and I guess I hadn't eaten anything since... did I have dinner yesterday? Who fucking cares.

The next day Chrisette texts me from the office. I want us to start having dinner together. Todd says he'll cook sometimes.

For a while that works, and Chrisette is in top form. She gets an award at work, handles bigger clients, and even runs home to breastfeed Seth at lunch instead of pumping at the firm. For a couple months I had been hopeful that she'd choose me again, but aside from a quick peck when she gets home I could be a live-in nanny. Still, watching her be a great mom is one of the few joys I can find for a while.

She seems happy. That's worth it, right? For better and for worse. I don't get to skip out on the "worse" part.

Even when he's brushing his teeth next to me, I try not to think about Todd. I make dinner for three, but I don't think about Todd. I go to sleep with two other people in my bed, but I don't think about Todd. I masturbate in the shower almost every day, just to feel something, but I definitely don't think about Todd. I don't think about anything then.

In the spring he catches me. We don't get to lock the door when we shower because we only have the one bathroom. I'm getting ready to come and so that white noise is in my ears, blocking out everything except that feeling of almost there, almost there.

The shower curtain flies back. Todd stares at me, dressed like he just got out of a meeting. I don't have any words; standing there like an idiot with my dick in my hands. Todd kicks off his shoes.

"What?" My brain can't even function enough to finish the dozen questions I have. Todd drops his suit jacket on the floor and climbs into the tub. My response to an adrenaline rush must be to freeze, because I just stand there while Todd touches me, brushing my stomach with one hand while the other is busy on my inner thighs. I do have the presence of mind to close the shower curtain, though. Chrisette hates it when there's water on the floor.

I jump when he touches my balls. Todd grins evilly, the water pouring over us and blurring his glasses. My entire pelvis feels electrified, and at any moment the fuse will be lit and it'll be too late. Todd's shirt is soaked through in the front already.

Steadying myself with a hand on the wall, I let Todd grip my shaft and jerk it slowly. Holy fuck, it's been a long time since anyone else touched it. He's teasing me--easing up the pressure as his hand travels to the head until he's barely brushing the tip.

"Fuck, that's nice." I didn't think that I was going to say it, but once it's out in the open Todd smiles even bigger before he kisses me. Not my mouth, at first. My neck, my ears, my shoulders, my jaw, until on instinct I turn my face towards him. It's not like I wanted to kiss him. It's good etiquette. It's a habit. It's being deprived.

Without letting go of my cock Todd unzips his pants. I let him guide my hand inside, but I don't stroke him gently. I just want to get off; I want him to get me off; I shove his underwear down enough to jerk him hard. His cock stiffens in my hands, which is weird and wild. It's not a turn on because I hate Todd. I just want him to make me cum. There's no way to prove whether I'm horny because of Todd or just because there's a hand on my dick.

He pulls me to him. I fight to breathe past the water running down my face and Todd's mouth on mine.

"That's it," he says softly. "That's good."

"Don't fuck me," I say for some reason.

Todd chuckles a little. "Why not?"

"Just don't."

"Ha! Fine," he says, nipping my bottom lip, "I won't fuck you."

It's only natural to let him slip his tongue in my mouth, or to do the same to him. There's nowhere to go because Todd's other hand grips my ass so I can't pull away. This all makes sense. If I rub my finger over the head of Todd's dick then he jacks me harder. I can barely stand the furious pace; my toes are trying to curl and my thighs tremble.

Todd asks against my lips, "Do you want to come?"

"Yes," I say, too foggy to lie. I'm so fucking close.

"Ask me nicely."

Asshole. "Let me come."

"Say please."

"Please let me come," I beg. I don't care I don't fucking care just let me come.

"Say my name."

"Please, Todd."

"Again."

"Please, Todd, let me fucking come!"

"Come, then," he says.

He kisses me and I respond like I'm starving for him. It's just that I'm right there, I'm gonna come, I'm so fucking close and it feels so good and shit, shit I'm fucking his hand like a tight pussy and he squeezes just right and I'm fucking coming, oh my god I'm coming, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit, shit. Oh fuck. Holy shit.

"I'm fucking shaking," I gasp, and of course Todd doesn't give a shit.

"On your knees," he orders, and I'm so cum drunk that I kneel right there in the tub as Todd jacks himself onto my face. "Open up."

Whatever. I can barely tell the difference between the water and the hot jizz that shoots onto my face save for the little bit that gets in my mouth. It's fine; it'll wash off. The water is in my eyes, so I can't even see Todd when he leans down to kiss me one last time and, like... this is a motherfucking kiss, bro. Todd puts both hands on my neck and uses his thumbs to hold my head in place. He goes softly at first, but then it's like he's trying to find the cum I swallowed and take it back. I feel it in my toes, even though my dick is in recovery mode.

"That'll do, Babe," he says when he lets me go.

I almost respond, "Thank you," but I clamp my mouth shut.