Page 68 of Homewrecker

“No.”

“Okay. And are we thinking about becoming sexually active again?”

I paused. “I’m dating again.”

“Okay.”

“But it’s very early.”

She smiled. “I understand.”

“I’m not getting on birth control because I’m planning to have sex with him. I’m just being proactive.”

“Absolutely.”

“Because I’m an adult and adults know sometimes you’re eating dinner one minute and then—”

Talynn finished my sentence. “Things progress?”

“Exactly. Thank you.”

I wasn’t looking for sex. I hadn’t spent the last two years healing, rebuilding my business, repairing friendships, going to therapy, and learning how to exist without Caleb just to immediately start shopping for a new mountain to climb on top of.

But I also wasn’t twelve. I liked Nash and he was fine as hell. We kissed and I enjoyed it. I understood biology and knew that kissing could become more kissing. More kissing could become touching. Touching could become somebody saying you wanna come inside? And then you have two grown adults naked, touching, exploring body parts. I aimed to be responsible and prepared.

“Have you used hormonal birth control before?” Talynn asked.

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“I took pills when I was younger, then an IUD.”

“You didn’t like the IUD?”

I stared at her. “Never again.”

“Bad experience?”

“They put something through my cervix while I was conscious. Nobody offered anesthesia or sedation. They told me to take ibuprofen.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I understand.”

“Never again.”

She laughed. “Okay. What are you interested in?”

“The patch.”

“Have you used it before?”

“No.”

She nodded and started going through the basics with me—how it was used, changing it on schedule, where it could be placed, possible side effects, what to do if it came off, and how it wouldn’t protect against sexually transmitted infections.

Two years ago, I’d stopped everything, birth control included. My body had already felt like it belonged to everybody except me.

My name was online, my face was online, and my sex life had become public conversation. People I’d never met had opinions about what kind of woman I was based on who I’d let into my bed.