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I help her to her feet since she’s been on her knees for so long, then grab a kitchen towel while she goes back to the stove.
I stand there, pants around my ankles, even though I’m through cleaning up.
She looks me up and down. “Are you gonna… I don’t know, pull your pants up? Or just hang out like that? Either way is fine with me.”
“Such a wise guy,” I say, getting dressed.
“So, somebody does like a little pre-dinner blowie,” she sings, bringing two plates of food to the dining table
It smells just as good as anything Betty makes.
“Look at this,” I say, sitting back in my seat, thoroughly impressed.
A blowjob, a nice dinner, and a cute wife. Life doesn’t get much better. For cripe’s sake, the table is set, wine glasses are out, and there’s a feast before me. Normally, when Betty cooks for me, I just wolf it down in front of the TV before crashing for the night.
Bachelor life, yo.
“So. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Petal says.
I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. “Let me have it, baby.”
Her look is ominous. I don’t like it.
She sets her fork down, then folds and unfolds her napkin.
What the fuck?
“I… I appreciate what you did at the press conference today, talking about how our relationship is your priority. It was a stand-up thing to do. I’m honored, really I am, that you choose me above all else. But I gotta let you know, that weighs on me. It doesn’t feel right. I… I just can’t stand in the way of your career. I can’t. I’d never forgive myself.”
I set my fork down now, too. “What are you getting at?”
“I don’t want to be the one you make career decisions around. I can’t do that to you, I don’t want to have that sort of expectation, that hockey is second for you, after me. You’ve trained for this career your entire life. It has to be your top priority.”
Jesus Christ. Did my father get to her?
She continues. “What if the best decision for you is to be traded, to move away? You can’t let a chance like that go because of me.”
I’m silent because I don’t know what to say.
But I eventually figure it out. “Are you trying to tell me you want out?”
She looks down at her hands, avoiding my eyes. How the hell did we go from a blow job, to a great dinner, and then to this? “I don’t know,” she says in a small voice.
I slam my hand on the dining table, scaring the shit out of both of us. Jesus, I thought I’d gotten rid of my aggro tendencies.
Petal pushes her chair away from the table like she’s afraid, and my heart crumbles right there in my chest. The person I care about most is afraid of me.
I get choked up and don’t even care. “I’m sorry. I should not have done that,” I say in a breaking voice. “I scared you.”
I drop my face into my hands. I can’t let her see me like this.
Shame wells in me, the kind of shame I felt when I saw my father do this to my mother. I told myself, promised myself, I’d be different.
Guess I’m the same kind of asshole he is.
“Petal, I see you in my future. I really do.” My voice is breaking up, so I clear my throat loudly. “What I’m saying is that if you’re going to be part of my future, then our relationship will influence any choices I make around my career. That’s the way it’s got to be. If this is what you want, like I do. If you don’t, you can tell me.”
I look up and see her face is red, streaked with tears. “I want to be with you,” she says in a small voice. “But I don’t want to see you ruin your career.”
