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You know where is most natural? Twelve years ago.

There’s nothing pleasant about telling Carolyn my history with her child. She doesn’t want to know that we hooked up in high school, let alone that Ira was embarrassed for years because she was on her period. When I tell Carolyn this, she hides her face in her hand and sighs dramatically, as if to say, “She got that from me.”

I fast forward to months ago when Ira and I were thrown together in The Ace project. The sparks. The dislike. The taunting.

The sex. The more sex. The bet. The time I went to her house and let her dominate me, a Domme. The fact that I liked it. That I wanted more.

That I barely know what’s going on in my head and body anymore. That I love her. That she claims to love me, yet we both know how futile it is… that heartbreak lurks.

“We might make it through the completion of this project. Such as when I get the museum in order.” I smooth out my pants but keep my eyes downcast. “After that… well, we’ll have no reason to keep trying to make it work. I’ll probably crack. I’ll resent her. She won’t understand me. We’ll have no choice but to part ways.

Carolyn remains silent for a long time. I can tell, through the lines on her face and the heavy breaths passing through her nostrils, that she’s both trying to parse this information about her child’s personal life and what she should say that comes off as unbiased.

It’s an impossible pursuit.

“I didn’t realize it was that complicated between you two,” she finally says. “And I’m sorry to hear that you two are on a road to so much pain. No mother wants to hear that about her child… I mean, that’s worse than all that other stuff.”

With no idea what to say, I finally pour some lukewarm tea and bring it to my lips.

“I see it this way. You’re the only one compromising, aren’t you?”

I nod. “It feels that way to me.”

“They need to meet you halfway. Not a quarter of the way. Not a third of the way. Halfway. Ira is too good at negotiating. They get that from their father and me. They’re good at making you see their side so easily. I’ve fallen into that trap a time or two. They’re charismatic and make you feel taken care of.” Carolyn shakes her head. “Kathleen, if any woman, and not just you, wants to be with Ira for more than a few weeks, then you need to get them to compromise with you. You’ve done more than enough, I promise.”

I’m glad to hear her say that. I needed to hear her say that.

“Do you know what you want from Ira, Kathleen?”

That’s something I’ve been thinking about for days. Weeks. What do I want from Ira? What will make me comfortable? Happy? What will give me the confidence to pursue something more than a fling with her? How can I go out in public holding her hand or letting her drag me around in a collar once or twice a month… without dealing with awkward stares from people we know? How can I submit to Ira without worrying about my reputation as a Domme?

How can I become a switch for her?

“I know what I want,” I say. “I want her to see me for who I really am. She said she wanted to deconstruct me and then reconstruct me back into her perfect partner. She nearly did that. Except… why did I have to be deconstructed? Why did I have to change, to explore sides of myself I never knew existed?”

Carolyn’s sad smile says everything. “Because you’re a woman.”

God, she’s right.

All these years, I’ve been trying to run away from, to fight against the shit that brings me down in this society. I’ve avoided so many traps threatening to catch me in a web of misogyny and chauvinism. And yet! When I fell for Ira, it felt natural to defer to her wishes, to give up a piece of myself for someone else. Let alone someone masculine, no matter who they otherwise are. The world looks at Ira and sees someone naturally in charge in any situation. Not me.

I love Ira. But not at the expense of myself.

“My daughter is blind to such plights,” Carolyn says in a rare moment of referring to Ira as female. “She can’t see through the fog of sheer privilege her father and every other person they’ve come across has bestowed upon them. Some things can’t be helped. Ira may not intend to do this to you, but… well, quite frankly, she’s an idiot. You need to tell them directly what you want and how you feel. Don’t just tell her that you love them. Tell her what you need from them to meet you halfway. If that means…”

“If that means what?”

Carolyn looks caught between smiling and vomiting. “Dominating them.”

I scoff. “She would never go for it.”

“Perhaps not, but…” Her teeth graze her pink lips. “You’ll be surprised what someone will do for love. Like my ex-husband, who is dating that Barbie to make me jealous.”

Yet again, I scoff. “You think that’s what he’s doing?” I’m relieved to be off the subject of Ira and me, but at what cost? This could get ugly.

“I know that’s what he’s doing. He started dating her the moment he found out about me and that soccer player. Which was overplayed, if you know what I mean.”

A question battles within my mouth. “Do you two still…?”