Page 7

CHAPTER 7

ALKA

T here’s a movie theater on Anapos with eight different rooms, and sometimes they have games up. Contrary to stereotypes, gay men also like sports. I’m not the biggest fan of sports played over the summer months, but the European soccer leagues are playing right now. We don’t always get those showings since we’re about as opposite side of the world as one can be.

The rooms are set up with half-stadium seating featuring incredibly comfortable recliners, a quarter lounger seating—which are practically beds—and then there’s open-floor seating where you can lay down blankets and cushions.

We didn’t come for the movie that’s currently playing. It’s the next one Oscar wants to see, but this one only has about ten minutes left.

It’s the part where everything is wrapping up. In the hero’s journey, we’re getting into the new normal. Getting a glimpse of the future when he has a family and kids. How happy he is with great friends and a big piece of property.

The American dream, right? The prescribed definition of what makes a fulfilled life. Anything outside of that, and, well, you’re obviously miserable with no purpose .

Except that I want like half of that. Ugh.

I pick my head up to look around. We’re alone, which I’m not entirely surprised by since it’s the middle of the afternoon.

“What’s wrong?” Oscar asks.

I snuggle into him again. We’ve chosen the bed loungers. There’s no better way to watch a giant television than lying down and cuddling comfortably.

“Just making sure I’m not going to bother someone if I talk. Looks like we’re the only ones watching this sappy movie.”

He snorts. “This movie wasn’t the draw. We missed the first half. I’m still not sure what’s going on except apparently, he won.”

I shake my head and adjust so I’m leaning on my arm. “So… I’m ready for kids.”

Oscar raises a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I study his face. “You’re not.” I don’t phrase it as a question.

He doesn’t answer right away, and I sigh. “It’s fine if you’re not. I’ve been thinking and?—”

“Hold on,” Oscar interrupts. “I didn’t say I’m not, but… don’t get upset.”

“Who did you get pregnant?”

He laughs. “Funny. Listen, my love, I just want to make sure that you’re ready for kids and not thinking about them now as a means to further excuse why you’ve given up looking for love.”

“Oz, stop. I appreciate that you’re concerned and want me to be happy, but it might be time we both admit that maybe it’s just not in the cards for me. Not everyone gets everything they want.”

“Alka, I don’t want you to stop looking. I don’t want you to live the rest of your life without having everyone you’re supposed to love.”

“I love you,” I tell him. “I love you more than anything in the entire world. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be—me and you and babies. However, I’m a little irritated that you think I’m saying I’m ready for babies as a means to… distract myself from the reality that I’m just not going to find a second husband to love. But it’s okay . As much as I believe that I have enough love for two men and that I want to love two men, I’m not unhappy, unfulfilled, unsatisfied, or what-the-fuck-ever else that we’re accused of. I love you. I want babies. The only answer I need from you is whether you’re ready too or not.”

Oscar stares at me, and I wonder if my good show was believed. I’m not going to win any Emmys or anything, and I’m sure my defensiveness didn’t help my case.

It’s not entirely a lie, though. Yes, I’ve been holding off on babies because I’ve wanted my complete throuple before kids. Admitting that throuple might not happen means that there’s no reason to wait.

I don’t exactly have prospects. I get it. It takes a specific kind of person to be in a polyamorous relationship that includes a sex worker. Even if a third person is only with me romantically and physically, there will obviously need to be a relationship of sorts with Oscar. He’s my husband. It would be stupid and na?ve to think they’d never interact.

Considering I’ve always wanted the three of us to live together, that’s a thing.

It’s been a point of contention in the past, more times than I can count, and it’s ended more than one of my relationships.

“Alright,” Oscar says. “I think we need a bigger discussion than just yes or no considering it’s not like we can just stop using protection and see what nature has in store.”

I roll my eyes and lie back down. Oscar’s fingers move into my hair. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

“No. I’m sorry I got defensive. I know that you always want me to have everything. I think we spend a lot of time making sure that we give each other whatever we want simply because we like to make each other happy. This is something out of your control, and you struggle with that.”

“I feel very transparent,” Oscar says, bemused. “I’ve literally had those exact thoughts over the last week. Actually, I’ve had them a lot over the years but more so this last week when I realized that you’re no longer putting yourself out there.”

“Maybe I have stopped,” I admit. “I won’t agree that I’m necessarily admitting defeat, but… I’m tired, Oz. And let’s be real, I don’t want to be eighty with a ten-year-old. If I’m meant for the throuple I’ve always wanted, I think I’m just going to need to trust that it’s going to happen at some point and stop putting the next chapter of our life on hold. Don’t you?”

“I feel better about this discussion now that you’ve admitted as much. Yes, we can definitely talk about babies, but again, it’s not as simple as just deciding we’re going to do it.”

“I skipped biology, so please, husband, do explain.”

Oscar gently tugs on my hair, and I laugh. “I mean, we need to decide how. You want to talk about surrogacy or adoption? Do we want to seek out a private surrogate or go through an agency? If adoption, are you looking for only newborns or maybe a teen or an older child? Or maybe just foster for a while?”

The lights in the room get brighter, signaling the movie and its credits are over. According to the schedule, there’s half an hour before the next begins.

“I don’t know that I have a huge preference. I think I’d like at least one newborn to raise together, but adoption is a good thing too. I’m hesitant about fostering. I understand that foster homes are badly needed, but loving a child for a couple years, only to have them taken away, is not something I’m going to go through well. As much as kids need that safe space, I also need to protect my own mental health.”

“Understood, and I don’t necessarily disagree with your reasoning. Maybe we should start looking at different resources and avenues as our first step. You want to head to a tech hut and see what we can find?”

“Nah. We can wait ‘til we get home. I just wanted to open the dialogue now. ”

“Okay, then since we’re talking about this, there’s something else we should discuss.”

“What’s that?”

Oscar sits up, so I follow. “My career. Maybe I need to consider retiring, which means I also need to begin looking at other ways to earn a living.”

“First, you can still be an influencer. That’s easy and doesn’t involve your dick. Second, I don’t think you need to give it up at all. We might need to be more cautious about the backyard and your studio. Or maybe get a second property that you use as your ‘office’ instead of our backyard. But there’s no reason you can’t continue.”

“You think it’s appropriate to raise kids and do porn?” he asks, raising a brow.

“I mean, not at the same time.”

Oscar huffs, trying not to laugh. I realize that maybe he’s a little unsure about this himself. It’s rare that I find my husband insecure about something.

I take his hand in mine, and he knows he’s been found out as he gives me a wan smile. “If this is a moral dilemma, I think that’s something you need to work through. We can talk about it as often as you want. I’m happy to give you my opinions, and we can work through the pros and cons and how you’re feeling about it. But I’m going to tell you right now that my job will interfere with raising our family far more than yours. You’re in charge of your own schedule. I have no control over mine, and I travel for games. I’m not ashamed of what you do, and neither are you.”

Oscar sighs. “It’s not often that I take into account other opinions outside of yours, but… I can only imagine what people are going to say.”

“The same thing they say about other jobs that they find tasteless, like waste management. They don’t want to have to go to the dump every week, but they look down on those who drive the trash trucks. They’re quick to bitch about the timeliness of a postal worker but are unwilling to do the same job. They don’t want to learn how to make cotton and everything that goes into it but want to buy that brand name shirt for $3. They want to shame sex workers as if they don’t have sex themselves. There’s always going to be someone who has a problem with what you do. That’s the world we live in. It’s literally impossible to mind your own fucking business these days.”

He'd been nodding along as I spoke, and when I stop, he squeezes my hand. “Thanks. I know. I just… I don’t want that to affect my kid. You know? I don’t ever want them to be put into a situation where what Daddy does is embarrassing or makes their life hell.”

“We’re going to teach them to have a quick mouth, thick skin, a sense of humor, and a better sense of morals than the people they’re going to meet. We’ve always talked about raising our kids in a body-positive environment. All bodies are beautiful. I guess I kind of assumed it would be a sex-positive environment as well. You know, age appropriate and never a TMI thing, but an educational… uh… backdrop. Or something that sounds good.”

Oscar laughs. “Definitely. All that.”

“Then lesson one regarding work is that there’s nothing wrong with sex work. End of discussion.”

“I think the lesson will need to be expanded upon, but yeah. Good start.”

I grin. “You okay with that? You want to keep talking about it now? What’re you thinking?”

He takes a breath. “I guess I’m thinking I’m not necessarily ready to retire from it, but maybe I need to begin diversifying my income a little more, so I have streams that aren’t directly related to my dick. You know, set myself up for a future that may come at a point when or if I’m no longer comfortable raising a kid and fucking on camera.”

“That’s a good idea. I can get on board with that.”

Oscar leans in and kisses me. “Thanks. I appreciate the talk down. ”

“That’s what we do best—talk until we find the solution.”

“I’m not going to agree that’s what we do best, but we definitely have that skill down to a science.”

The lights dim again, and we get comfortable on the bed lounger. For a while, there’s a series of busy noises on screen before the trailers start. It doesn’t take me long to realize I’m not going to be able to sit through this entire movie. I’m feeling antsy.

“You mind if I head back to the bungalow?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

“No.” I gently press my hand to his chest to keep him here. “You wanted to watch this. I’m just not feeling like I can sit still for another two hours.”

“Then I won’t tell you it’s closer to three hours.”

“Yeah… You stay.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’m going to think about baby names and whether we can rearrange our house or need to buy a new one.”

Oscar smiles. “Okay. Say hi to at least one person on the way.”

I roll my eyes. “I spent nine months saying hi to random people, Oz. I’m ready for a break.”

“Just say hi to someone. Love you.”

Huffing, I lean down and kiss him. “Love you. Enjoy your long ass movie.”

I leave him and step out into the setting sun. I actually feel better now that we’re making the decision to grow our family. It feels like I’m no longer sitting in limbo, waiting for the next big step.

Maybe I just had the steps wrong all along. Maybe I added a step that was never supposed to be there. While it hurts my heart to think that, I have to admit that maybe it’s true.

On the way back to the bungalow, I stop and grab something to eat. I choose a rice bowl inside a fried tortilla serving as the bowl that’s definitely easier to eat sitting down. But I’m hungry, so I don’t wait.

I finish eating on the deck and stare down at the water, something I find myself doing a lot. A lone figure catches my attention. He’s meandering along, hands in his pockets, watching the water. Or maybe the sunset. When he stops and bends over with his hands on his knees, I wonder if something’s wrong.

Is he having a heart attack? Did he step on a nail? Did something come out of the sand and bite his foot or something?

After he remains like that for a minute, I get up to make sure he’s okay. As I get closer, he stands and starts walking again. Okay, maybe he’s not hurt. Maybe he was just… looking at his feet?

However, he glances my way, and I’m very obviously heading directly toward him so I can’t just abort. There’s no choice but to go say hi.

Look at me doing as my husband demanded. I deserve a gold star for this.

Then again, this man is awfully beautiful with the setting sun shining on his hair, making it glow gold, like he has a halo. We’re at such an angle that he’s currently backlit by the sun as if he has his own shine. Like an angel.