They were supposed to go dancing. It had been planned for over a week. But when the time came, he said, “Let’s just stay in town.”
She was disappointed, but what could she do? At least they were still going out. That was something. And something is better than nothing, right? Maybe. But she didn’t feel better inside.
Standing in line at the burger place, he looked at her. “Which one are you getting? I don’t like to have a girl outdo me, especially at eating.”
Of course she picked the smaller burger. At the time, it seemed like the only choice. And she made it be okay, even though she was really hungry and could have eaten more.
The night went on. She seemed happy. She listened as he told his stories and she laughed. She kissed him without hesitation and gazed deeply into his eyes.
Only she knew.
She was good at this. In fact, she wonders occasionally if she has gotten too good. She threw that first game of darts so that he could save face — she had won both before and he had pouted. She didn’t mind. It keeps order.
It was just a game. All of it was just a game.
Then they were back at his place. It was expected. Sex was expected. So she went through with it. She wasn’t surprised when he made no attempt to make sure that she came. He fell asleep fast.
She lay there, looking at the ceiling, listening to him start to snore. How often had she done this? How often had she made herself less so that her partner could be more?
She felt very ugly inside.
So she quietly snuck out of the bed, grabbed her clothes and ran out as quickly as she could.
The cool air felt liberating on her skin. She took in a deep breath, and then one more as she drove off into the night.
It was just a game, and she was very good at it.
This has been a short story by Kristin DeLong. For more stories like this, please follow Pleasure & Pain, our Medium publication that explore the complex intricacies of love, sex, and relationships. To write for us, simply tweet the editor at @bonni07.