The Quiet Before The Storm – Part 1

“Do you like this or this one?” my husband asked as he held up two shirts for my opinion for our date with Brad and Amy.

I slid open the glass shower door. Water dripped onto the bathmat as I poked my head out to get a better look. “The striped one,” I said as I gestured to his left.

We were running late so I finished shaving with quick strokes of the razor. Despite the initial rush, I carefully picked out my own outfit taking great care to select lingerie that I thought Brad would like. His taste tends towards the soft and feminine so I did a quick fashion show for my husband to poll for his opinion. I was nervous and he could tell by my indecision. This would be our first date after the first overnight and it was Valentine’s day. After endless conversations about what it meant to see our lovers on Valentine’s day, we reluctantly agreed to meet with them. There was a certain air of heaviness as the implications pressed upon us. As we got off of the subway, I realized what a mistake it was to wear highheeled boots after a snowstorm. Manhattan is good about salting the sidewalks, but I had to carefully navigate the sidewalks by holding my husband’s arm to keep steady. As I stepped around snow piles and avoided losing my footing, it struck me how it felt similar to navigating our relationship with Brad and Amy.

We arrived very late and they had already gotten a table. As they stood up to greet us, there was an uncomfortable moment as we all decided if we should sit next to our spouses across from the other couple or if we should mix it up. We sat next to our spouses and shielded ourselves from the gravity of the situation by making meaningless small talk. We ignored the fact that last time was an intense overnight. Even though we were preparing for another overnight (but at their place), we spoke as though we were just friends who were grabbing drinks.

I locked eyes with Brad and smiled. We had an intense build up to the evening. Our nights had been spent texting back and forth with each other. We shared romantic texts about how we wanted each other and described the different ways we wanted to explore each other’s bodies. We exchanged “questions of the day” as a way to get to know each other better. We were opening up, talking about fears and insecurities, talking about past relationships, talking about it all. A few nights before, we had stayed up quite late texting while Amy was asleep. It was a very connected conversation and when his phone died, he moved to chat. It was exciting to have so much in common, but I worried if Amy would be upset or jealous. The next few nights, we did not talk so much because he was painstakingly putting together a massive playlist of songs that he thought I would like that would last the entire evening. I did not ever suspect that would be one of the last times we would talk so extensively with each other through text.