“When my head is strong but my heart is weak, I’m full of arrogance and uncertainty. When I can’t find the words, you teach my heart to speak…”


The black bag was dangling in front of her face, practically begging to be opened, and the contents experimented with. Marco had brought it in from the car, and was now teasing her with it as they sat next to each other on the couch. Just the mere thought of what could be in the bag was exciting and terrifying all rolled up together.

Marco set it down on the couch and set his head on his fist, waiting to see her reaction to the things he had picked out for her. When she saw the uncomfortable look on his face, she figured this had to be the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever done. But slowly, she opened the bag, surprised to see that there was actually a wide spectrum of toys.

Marie reached in and pulled out the plastic handcuffs first. It took everything in her to keep from giggling, because that seemed somewhat normal. Like of course he would buy handcuffs for them to fool around with. She reached in again and pulled out a vibrator, feeling her cheeks get hot. It was almost embarrassing to be touching these things with Marco beside her. He too let out a nervous chuckle, and Marie set the vibrator down, sucking in a deep breath when she pulled the next thing out.

“This thing pales in comparison to what you’re working with…” she dangled the dildo in front of her.

“I didn’t want to have to compete with rubber.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she laughed, tossing the flexible rubber at him. He swiped it away, watching as it landed to the floor with a quiet thud. And when Marie pulled out a blindfold next, she found some comfort in that he literally could’ve gotten it anywhere. A blindfold in itself didn’t denote sex, so she felt like the worst had passed. With one more item in the bag, she pulled it out swiftly, only to be slightly horrified when she held it up.

“I thought that since you’re afraid of things to be near your ass, you’d try it out when you’re alone, and comfortable…” Marco murmured, trying to state his case.

She stared at him and set the toy down, “let me get this straight. In your mind, you figured it was a good idea to get the girl who’s afraid of having things shoved up her ass… you thought you’d get her an anal plug… that made sense to you?”

“Marie, I’m not trying to force you into anything.” He paused and set his hands in his lap, “that night at the bar in Montreal when that douche bag made a pass at you, I saw how far you’d go. I saw your limit. And now that we’re in an actual relationship, and we love each other… I just thought maybe that limit would change.”

“So me saying I love you, means that you get the right to parts of my body that are otherwise forbidden?” Marie stood up and pressed her hands to her forehead, completely flustered. “So I should just let any guy that says I love you fuck me up the ass, then?”

“No, that’s not…”

Marie turned away, and then turned back at him, “I can’t even look at you right now. Oh my god, what just came out of your mouth?”

“Marie, you’re overreacting.” Marco stood up and extended his out for her, but she stayed just out of reach.

“I’m overreacting?” She picked up the plug from off the couch, “let me shove this up your ass; then we’ll see who’s overreacting!”

Marco shoved his hands into his pockets. “This isn’t how I anticipated this would go,”

“What’d you expect? That I’d just bend over and let you do whatever the hell you wanted? That’s all you care about; you never respected me or wanted a relationship. You wanted the sex… I’m such an idiot. I moved out here for a guy who only wanted me because my legs were spread apart.”

“Marie you know that’s not true…”

“Do I?” She interrupted. “Because it really feels like I don’t know a damn thing.” As Marco stepped closer to her, Marie shrugged her shoulders and held her hands up, “don’t touch me.”

---

Marie slammed the front door shut. She had made a quick dash from Marco’s place, and raced back to the only other place in town she knew. But now even her tiny apartment was foreboding. There was nothing, and no one, here for her. She dialed up her mom’s number, glancing at the clock. It’d be late afternoon in Connecticut, but hopefully she’d be in. And after three quick rings, her mom picked up.

“Hi sweetie,”

“Mom…” Marie choked back a sob. It had just dawned on her that she really couldn’t be too specific with her mom about the situation. She didn’t know about Marco, and didn’t know the true reasons as to why her daughter had moved.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Don’t freak out and panic,” she flopped down on her bed and curled over on her side. “I have a question,”

Carol didn’t say anything, but rather just waited for Marie to ask whatever she needed.

“When you were younger, and dating… did a guy ever suggest or ask for something you weren’t totally comfortable with?” Marie sucked in a deep breath and waited for a well thought out answer. Her mom had always been good at giving advice.

“Well sure. Boys ask things like that all the time,”

“What’d you do?”

“Usually Marie, I went along with it. For the guys I was with, there was a certain level of love and trust in place that I knew they weren’t asking things of me that would hurt me or put me in any sort of danger. When you care enough about someone, and really trust them, sometimes you’re willing to do things you wouldn’t normally do. Is there already a boy in Minnesota?”

Marie sighed softly, “it’s a long story. How do you know if you can trust them? Like really trust that they’re not just screwing around?”

“If a guy chases after you, tries to make you feel more safe despite whatever odd suggestion he’s offered, I’d say he’s pretty worthy of your trust. A guy who puts effort into you and who fights for you isn’t someone you should write off too easily.”

She looked at her front door and stared at it for a moment, “well he’s not banging down my front door, so I guess he’s not fighting.”

“Marie honey… I know your dad showed you a lot of wrong qualities, but don’t let him be the reason you stop believing in people. It’s not always a bad thing to put your faith in someone.”

“I just don’t want to waste my time…”

It was a quiet answer, but it was all Marie could muster. Marco hadn’t even really done anything wrong. He bought things that would take their intimate lives to a new level. But it was the way it all happened. There were still a lot of feelings and anxiety about what had happened that night in Montreal. Anytime she thought about it, it turned into an unpleasant situation.

Marie hung up with her mom after ending the conversation on a high note, talking about how her mom was trying out a new cake recipe and wished she was there to try it. After that though, Marie realized she still had nothing in her house. Spending the past few days at Marco’s house had taken priorities over groceries, and now her grumbling stomach told her to change that.

And what should’ve been an hour and a half trip at most, turned into double that, as Marie realized more and more things she could use around the apartment; like laundry detergent, shampoo, sponges, cooking utensils… She didn’t really realize how much stuff she actually needed until she was living alone and had nothing.

And boy would it have been nice to have someone help her with her bags. Because after five trips to and from the car, Marie finally began the daunting task of putting everything away. With that, the whole new realization that she really didn’t have the space to store everything started to set in. What ended up happening was that every space that could possibly house a new item, did. And while the apartment didn’t look cluttered or messy, it definitely looked full.

By the time she found a spare moment to look at her phone, it was nearing six o’clock. And even more surprising than that, was there wasn’t one message from Marco. Not a text, not a voicemail… not one trace of evidence that Marco had made any attempt to contact her. Even though she didn’t want to believe that it was bothering her, truth was that it was.

Marie passed by the full-length mirror hanging on the wall and tried to ignore the way she looked. Hair thrown up in a messy bun and sweaty clothes, she hardly looked like she needed company, but then again the person who began knocking franticly on her door didn’t know that. She assumed it would be a neighbor asking for sugar or detergent, or simply to say hi, welcome to the neighborhood.

So when she tugged the door open and saw Marco standing at her doorstep with a bouquet of roses in his hands, Marie clutched at her heart, physically shocked to see him standing in front of her.

“I don’t expect sex. I don’t think it’s something I’m entitled to with you. I don’t want you to think that… toy… was a comment about what I’m taking away from this relationship. I love you, Marie. And I didn’t mean anything by getting that… it was just a thought that wasn’t well thought out at all. We’re good together… I don’t want to go out like this,”

Marie stared at him and stepped to this side, silently allowing him into her apartment. He looked at her to make sure she was serious, and when she didn’t say or do anything else, he stepped in and took in his new surroundings. Marco thrust the bouquet towards her, and she glanced at it before letting out a reluctant sigh and took the flowers in one hand. She sunk into Marco’s body, wrapping her other arm around his torso.

He held her tightly, pressing his lips against her forehead, “I’m sorry.” He rocked her side to side slowly, “I see now that it was insensitive for me to buy that. I’m an idiot, like you said.”

Marie shut her eyes and smiled, burying her face into Marco’s chest. Between what her mom had said and how charming he was, it was almost impossible for her to stay mad at him for too long. And while she wanted to move forward, she also wanted him to know that what he had said and done wasn’t acceptable. Somehow she figured he had gotten it.

“You are an idiot,” she looked up at him and offered a small smile. “But you’re an idiot that I love, and I hate myself everyday for it.” Marie brought her nose down to the roses and took a deep breath in. She didn’t have a vase to put them in, so she’d have to put them in a cup or let them die. “I could love anyone, and I love a dude with an exceptionally difficult life to fit into. And yet here I am in St. Paul, loving you… while every ounce of my being tells me otherwise.”

“That’s comforting,” Marco mumbled, suppressing a grin.

She stepped into the kitchen and placed the roses in a plastic cup before walking to her bed, and sat at the foot of it. “I called my mom because I needed someone to talk to…” Marie looked over as Marco sat down beside her. “She said that when there’s a certain level of trust and love, sometimes you bend and do things you wouldn’t normally do… just because you care about someone so deeply.”

“As weird and lame as this might sound, I called my mom too,” he grinned and Marie saw his cheeks turn pink as she laughed at him. “I’m serious, I did. I didn’t give specifics, but I asked her how to handle certain situations… and my mother in her endless wisdom, quoted Richard Burton and told me ‘the way to handle a woman is to love her… simply love her’.” He paused and leaned back on his hands, sucking in a deep breath, “I do love you Marie… with everything in me.”

“I know,” she whispered and leaned in to him. At some point, they’d have to move on. And she seemed to be in the drivers seat. Marie gave him an innocent kiss on the lips. When she pulled away, she was suddenly overcome with worry, thinking about how the next few days would change the rest of the year for them. “What’s going to happen when your season starts? Just a repeat of the distance we had when I was in Boston?”

“I’m gonna be gone for forty-one games, but I’m also going to be here for forty-one games… It may seem like the schedule has us bouncing around from city to city, but some of the guys have wives and children, and if they can make their marriages work, we can surely make this relationship work.” Marco gave her shoulder a light squeeze, “I don’t want you to worry about it, okay? After every road trip, whether it’s one game or five, I’m coming back here to you.”

Notes

"You Make It Real" by James Morrison.

It's 8:51 PM and I didn't remember what day it was. Naturally, thinking it was Saturday, I thought I still had time to make my upload. But alas, it is Sunday night. So this gets brought to you a day late. Hope you enjoy.