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R ain gently taps against the bedroom window, subtly drowning out digital moans escaping from my phone speaker as I find my release. The wetness of the outside is a stark contrast to the dry desert of a sex life I’ve had in this marriage. My only escape recently has been at the bottom of my dresser drawer in the shape of an egg, a tentacle, and a rose. All things I bought in secret because Miles would lose his damned mind if he knew I was replacing him.

His words, not mine.

The man is the size of a fucking tree and he’s intimidated by a simple sex toy. Honestly, if someone told me that masculinity was so fragile at a younger age, I would’ve never looked twice in his direction.

We met in teen bible study our senior year.

I know. I know. Me? A girl who loves porn, sex toys, and cursing in bible study, of all places.

I was born into a well-off, middle class, Midwestern family. That came with all the fixings. Well behaved children who grew up to be all star athletes in high school and college. A stay-at-home mom who participated in every community bake sale and volunteer project possible. Our blue-collar dad who worked his way from the bottom up until he owned his own business. And, like clockwork, church every Sunday morning followed by family lunch at our local diner. Mom made sure my siblings and I were involved in every church outing as children, slowly migrating to our respective bible study groups as we grew older. Good Christian children grow up into godly warriors or whatever bullshit she spewed at us.

My brothers, Luke and John, are a few years older than me. They graduated before I was a freshman in high school, so I attended bible study alone. What’s a good girl to do at bible study other than keep to herself in the corner with her silly books and ignore everyone? However, no matter how hard I tried to stay in the shadows, there was always one guy who lit up my life.

Miles Kowalski.

He rumbled into my life like a tornado, rapid and all consuming, filled with so much laughter it was contagious. He always knew the right words to say to pull a smile from my face. Miles always knew exactly what to say to get me talking. My name on his lips was sent from heaven above.

“One day, I’m going to make you fall in love with me, Mary Jo,” he would say. I would giggle until my cheeks burned and my belly ached.

One day, that finally happened after years of his persistent friendship, and not so long after, we left for college together. Moving to Madison to attend University of Wisconsin, I completed four years with a degree in communications and Miles continued to complete his MBA. Miles obtained a job at a startup company and, once he made enough for both of us, he suggested I stay home. But only if I wanted to. He was so cognizant of my need for freedom and adventure. He said that’s what drew him to me the most. That, while I claimed to love the lord as much as he did, I didn’t let that dampen my sense of curiosity.

In years since, as youthful ambitions weaned into adult responsibilities, my faith has wavered. I no longer believe in invisible promises of eternal life or salvation. The once good girl I aspired to be, to please my community, has turned into a homebody wife. Miles has also strayed from his faith, but he has never strayed from me. I do my duty, as I promised Miles in our vows, to tend to the house with chores and meals, while Miles brings home the money needed to ensure we have a roof over our heads and food on the table.

Which reminds me, I haven’t even started dinner yet.

Sighing, I glance at the clock. It’s only 5:28 p.m. Miles won’t be home until very late tonight. His new job takes him away from home longer than normal with extended hours and frequent travel. Honestly, it’s done wonders for our relationship.

It’s been a well-known fact in our relationship, even from the beginning, that we need our space. Miles can be a little controlling, insisting to know my location ever since we first started dating as a way to keep me safe. That has morphed over the years to more trust, but also a lack of friendships. Miles didn’t get along with anyone in our community, but he tolerates Brooke with her constant reminders that I can be an independent woman without him hovering like a mother hen. It caused a fight between them at one point, resulting in our friendship becoming strained for a few months. Now, we’ve compromised where I can have my alone time during the day while Miles is at work, as long as I have the house ready and dinner waiting when he gets home.

It's the steady life that Miles has always wanted. And I would do anything to make him happy, being the happy wife he expects me to be. The role of a domestic housewife can get dull if you don’t have a change now and then. Luckily, I can keep myself busy at home with my books, and we have scheduled date nights every week that I like to call my social hour. And, at the end of the day, I can always make things a little more interesting by shocking him in the bedroom. No one said a housewife can’t also be her husband’s personal whore

It’s called balance.

And balance is the one thing I rely on to keep this marriage healthy.