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I know he was excited and letting himself wax lyrical, but I’ve been grappling all along with the dichotomy of us. Future ER-attending Holly rejecting the idea of letting myself feel anything for a drummer in a rock band who doesn’t think past his next gig versus elevator/alley Holly feeling all the feels. So his smorgasbord of decadence seemed the classic representation of our differences. He seemed so like my ex, Warren-like in that moment, expecting me to fit in with his plans, and everything just slowly froze inside me as my brain blaredback away!

Back the hell away.

Even if it has been, ever since, thinking – very unhelpfully – overtime about him and how his declaration of love has seeped into all my nooks and crannies and the ways I could help Danny spend his money. The good he could do with it.

Wecould do with it.

But he needs to figure that out himself. He needs a plan for it – that part was at least the truth. Money like that is a big responsibility. If a person wanted to do something meaningful with their life, anyway.

A sudden knock on my door yanks me out of the cyclical trap of my thoughts. My pulse spikes. Danny? Could it be him? He’s stayed away, as have I because that’s only fair after insisting he sort his shit out. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy.

It doesn’t mean my body hasn’t craved his in the middle of the night. Or my finger hasn’t hovered over his number in my phone just so I could hear his voice again or tell him about the latest entry to the ER ass box.

Shaky legs take me to the door, but it’s not Danny, and for a moment I just stare at the UPS guy, who greets me with a friendly smile and holds out a rectangular parcel. It’s from Amazon. I take it automatically, even though I know I haven’t ordered anything from them.

Like I get time for online shopping.

But it has my name and address on the front. Maybe my mom ordered something for me and forgot to say anything?

I sign for it, and he leaves, and there’s just me and the parcel. I should put it aside for later, but it’s not like I’m being particularly productive right now. Thinking about Danny and how much I miss him instead of ventilation protocols for inhalation burns is not getting me anywhere.

I sit and tear open the parcel to reveal a box with a picture of a bright pink dildo on all four sides. And the lid. I blink, momentarily stunned. My mom sure as hell hasn’t sent me this. Which only leaves one person. I look through the discarded packaging and find the note.

Because I know you haven’t gotten around to it yet…

Love Danny xxx

I blink again at his choice of words.Love Danny. My heart gives a funny little double beat as those two words stare back at me. A standard, familiar way to sign off a card, sure, but also a reflection of his true feelings.

Even if I hadn’t wanted to hear them.

The thought gets me so churned up, I actually transfer my attention back to the box. Gingerly, I open the lid, like I’m afraid it might leap out and insert itself in my vagina of its own accord. It doesn’t, so I upend the box, and the packaged dildo falls into my lap.

Tentatively, I pick it up. The crinkle of the clear plastic is loud in the silent room. It’s long and thick and hard, cylindrical rather than being any kind of life-like representation of the male anatomy, and I’m back in the elevator with Danny and the screwdriver.

My body responds in kind. My nipples ache as if they’re being pinched, and my pelvic floor contracts in some kind of wild Pavlovian muscle memory. A warm slipperiness slicks my folds as I rip it out of its plastic, needing to ease the roar inside me so damn bad, I don’t care how I achieve it.

And it’s a lot safer than calling Danny.

A strong waft of plastic wrinkles my nose. The latex aroma is almost overwhelming, and I thank God I’m not allergic. I’d probably already be rolling on the floor with my airway closing off just from the smell alone.

Danny doesn’t smell like that.

I think about the real thing, and my urgency dies. It’s not the same. It doesn’t look the same or feel the same. It sure as hell doesn’t smell the same. It’s not the real thing, and that’s suddenly what I need. Not justanything.

I need Danny.

And not only for what he’s packing inside his underwear and his willingness to put it at my service, but because he’s the first man ever who’s made me think about anything other than my job. Because he’s made me believe I can actually have a life outside medicine.

Because he’s likes having sex with me but he wants more than that, too.

He’s offering me a life, and for the first time, looking at this godawful dildo, I actually want one. Because he’s been dogged and determined in his pursuit of me, despite my lack of encouragement. Because his smile turns me on and makes mefeel like I’m the only woman in the world. Because he’s patient and playful and makes me laugh.

A dildo can’t do that.

I look at it in my hand, garishly pink, and toss it on the table as if it’s suddenly caught fire. I hunt around for my phone, dragging it out from under some papers, my fingers shaking as I message him.

Come and do me now!!!