Phillip and I have barely talked today.
Last night, we met Katie and Neil for dinner. Katie had just filed for divorce. I’d really felt like canceling dinner and hiding in the shower all night. I didn’t want to face Phillip, but I told myself that she needed me. Needed my support while she went through this horrible ordeal even though she seems really happy about it. She said, now that she’s done it, she feels like this huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. That she was just afraid to admit defeat. Afraid to tell her parents it wasn’t working.
I wondered if that’s how I’d feel if I called off our wedding.
She and Eric are supposed to have an amicable divorce. And, of course, Neil is super excited. He totally loves her.
When we got home, I stayed in the bathroom until I was sure Phillip had fallen asleep.
Today, at work, we’ve both pretended to be very busy.
I’m afraid to say anything to him. I’m afraid he’s going to ask me questions.
And I don’t know the answers to any of them.
On the drive to counseling, he doesn’t really say anything to me. He seems to have given up.
I’m still mad that he laughed at me about the vodka. I’m still mad that he didn’t seem to care that he’d hurt my feelings, but what’s worse is that it feels like more.
It feels like our relationship is breaking down.
Have you ever had your car run out of gas? You know that sputtering it does right before it dies?
That’s what this feels like.
We sit down in the stupid chairs. If the pastor were any kind of decent counselor at all, he’d be able to tell just from our body language that things were not good. Phillip is leaning away from me. My arms are crossed tightly in front of me. I don’t even really want to look at Phillip.
What I’d like to do is puke in the trash can, but I’m trying to hold it in.
Pastor John starts our session with, “Today, we want to discuss intimacy.”
“You mean, sex?” I say. Even though I hate him, I have to admit, some of his topics have been timely.
“Not just sex. We talked about that last time. I’m talking about being close, giving him a massage, whispering in her ear, showing your love in other ways, staying close, talking. As we discussed last week, you’ll go through a honeymoon period, and then things will level out. It’s important that couples agree on timing and frequency. If one person in the couple wants physical intimacy and they don’t get it, it can cause hurt feelings, feelings of inadequacy. You might think they don’t love you as much as they used to.”
“We had our first argument about sex yesterday,” Phillip says.
“No, we didn’t,” I say. “That’s bullshit. We didn’t argue about sex. I told you no and shut the door. We haven’t argued at all. We really haven’t talked.”
Phillip turns to me, crosses his arms in front of his chest, and glares at me for disagreeing with him. “Well, you didn’t want to do, um, that thing with me that you usually like to do.”
This pisses me off. Why can’t Phillip keep his big mouth shut? We’re not supposed to be discussing specifics, only sex in general terms, so we can use the information down the road someday.
But, if he wants to talk about it now, so be it.
“You’re right, Phillip. I didn’t want to have sex with you in the shower after you sprayed beer on my head, laughing at me. It really wasn’t a turn-on.” I maybe say it a bit bitterly.
Phillip’s eyes get huge.
He glances at the pastor, who takes it all in stride.
“Why were you laughing at her, Phillip?”
Phillip visibly cringes. “I think we can figure this out at home.”
“No, I think we should talk about it now. You brought it up.”
Phillip narrows his eyes at me. “Well, if we’re gonna do that, I guess we’ll have to start with what went on at Kegger’s.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Nothing went on at Kegger’s, Phillip. I went out with some friends. We talked in counseling about doing things on our own. About not spending all our time together. I needed to get away, Phillip. Wedding planning, building planning, a new house. Those are all very stressful things.”
He replies in a pissy voice, “Like I’m not stressed, too?”
“I’m sure you are, Phillip, but Kegger’s had nothing to do with you not getting sex in the shower. You didn’t get sex because you’d made me feel stupid. You’d laughed at me. That’s not very effective foreplay.”
“You don’t even get it,” Phillip says with a big sigh. He shakes his head and looks at Pastor John. Then, he says with a wave of his hand, “Why don’t you just tell us whatever else you have? I don’t think this situation requires any further discussion.”
Pastor John nods at him.
I roll my eyes at Phillip. Right now, I kinda hate him. I wonder if now would be a good time to bring up the burning bush.
I decide not to. Worst case, I burst into flames on my wedding day. And, if I do, I’ll probably be dead, so I won’t have to die of embarrassment.
Win-win situation.
Pastor John goes on about intimacy, caring about each other, doing little things to make each other happy. I’m not sure really; I’ve kinda tuned him out.
My body might not be literally burning, but my mind is still on fire with questions.
As we’re ready to leave, Pastor John hands us each a questionnaire to fill out and bring back next time. He looks at the two of us, both pissed and not even wanting to look at each other. “Well, if there is a next time. Maybe you need to rethink this whole wedding thing.”
He might be right, but he had no right to say it out loud.
Do voodoo dolls work?
Does anyone know? And do you know where I can get one?
Actually, maybe I’ll take two. One for Pastor John and one for Phillip.
Right now, I hate them both.
I’m still pissed when we get back home. I take a couple of Advil for the headache that has been pounding, plop down on the couch, and cover myself with a blanket.
Phillip sits down next to me. Phillip has a voice that reminds me of my dad. Especially when he’s mad. It’s that same authoritative tone. “We’re going to talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Phillip,” I sass back.
“I disagree. We’re pissed off at each other. We have to be able to talk about this stuff if we’re going to make it.”
If we’re going to make it? If? Does Phillip think we might not make it? He’s the one who’s always so sure about us making it!
How am I possibly going to get through this if Phillip doubts it?
He continues, “So, you were mad I laughed at you, and that’s why you didn’t wanna shower with me?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Do you think I should be mad at you about Kegger’s?”
“After Kegger’s, you said we had the best sex of your life. Why should you be mad?”
He moves closer to me and gets in my face. “I’m talking about what went on at the bar. Not what happened after we came home.”
“Well, if you had a problem with me, we should’ve talked about it then. You shouldn’t have attacked me. Sex doesn’t solve conflicts, remember?”
“I attacked you?” He laughs. “You stripped your clothes off the minute we walked through the door.”
“What? You can’t resist me?”
He doesn’t answer my question, probably because it’s obvious that he can’t. Instead, he says, “I was texting you. Asked if you wanted to go home with Bradley. You said you didn’t think so but that you’d think about it. You never replied. Again. Why do you think I drove all the way down there?”
“I thought you came to party with us.”
“No, I didn’t want you to go home with him. I was afraid you would.”
“So, you don’t trust me? How are we supposed to get married if you don’t trust me?”
Sputter, sputter. The car dies.
I try to start it again. Nothing. I’m pretty sure it’s out of gas, and I’m stranded on a dark road in the middle of nowhere.
“Did you have fun at Kegger’s?” he asks me.
“Kinda. I think I just needed to blow off a little steam.”
“So, this isn’t about the burning bush?”
I sigh madly. “Stop reading my mind.” I turn my head away from him.
He grabs the back of my head, specifically the base of my ponytail, and forces me to look at him.
Phillip’s being just a little rough, and it’s extremely panty-melting. That boy just turns me on. Even when I hate him.
I can’t even help it.
Plus, it’s been nearly forty-eight hours since we last had sex.
I must be in withdrawal.
He’s still talking, “I swear, you will not burst into flames at our wedding. Think of how everything fell into place. We’re meant to be together. You know we are. I love you, Princess.”
He’s so freaking sweet. I gaze deep into his brown eyes for a second and then press my lips hard to his. He responds by letting go of my ponytail and pulling me into his hips. I don’t bother with his shirt but go straight for his belt.
He responds with equal intensity. He roughly kisses me, pushes up my dress, and pulls me on top of him.
