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“I’m just curious. So how many?” I press, leaning in close. He shrugs, and for the first time in forever, I think I’ve caught Dr. Mathews off guard. “Like ten?” I ask, starting the count. He drums his fingers on the tabletop, avoiding all possible eye contact. His action just fuels my curiosity. “Twenty?”
“Madison, let’s change the subject.” He goes to reach for my hand, but I pull it away.
“No. I like this subject. Fifty?” When he uneasily reaches for his wine, I know I’m not even close. “Holy shit. What, you’re telling me it’s over fifty?”
Silence.
“Oh my God, a…hundred? Dixon, are you telling me you’ve slept with overonehundred women?”
He takes a big breath before fixing me with his intense stare. “Maddy, I don’t know the number because…I’ve lost count.”
My mouth pops open because I know he’s telling me the truth. Wow. I don’t even know how to react. I can count all my partners on one hand, well, no hands because the total amount is zero. What happened with Dylan doesn’t count because he…it was…I quickly reach for my wine and down the entire glass.
I can’t believe he’s lost count. I mean, I get that some men are more promiscuous than some women, but holy shit, over one hundred partners equates to…I gulp. I don’t even want to know how many that totals a month, or worse still, a week. I’m certain he was faithful when engaged to Lily, so are these one hundredpartners before or after her? I have nothing to offer him sexually because he’s seen it all before.
That thought doesn’t help my unsettled stomach, and I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick. Covering my mouth, I shoot up and make a mad dash for the front door, which is closer than the bathroom out back. Once outside, I round the corner and brace my hands on my knees as I bend over. The cool air is exactly what I need, and after three calming breaths, I swallow down my nausea.
“Madison?”
Dixon’s concerned, panicked voice alerts me to how embarrassed I am. And also, what an idiot I’ve been. I’ve turned a lovely evening into a disaster because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. What is the matter with me?
“Go away, Dixon. I’m fine.” I wave him off blindly.
“Like hell you are.” He walks over and gently runs a hand down my back. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry if I upset you. I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
He’sthe one who’s apologizing? Is he serious? I’m the one who should be apologizing for my stupid behavior. “Dixon,I’mthe one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Maddy, please stand up. Look at me.”
I don’t want to look at him, but I feel light-headed, so I gradually stand tall and turn around. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, but Dixon coaxes me to look at him as he places two fingers under my chin. His tender eyes reveal nothing but care.
“There is nothing wrong with you.”
“I highly doubt that. Why can’t I just be normal?” I attempt to avert my gaze, but Dixon gently seizes my jaw.
“Don’t get hung up on what’s normal and what’s not. You’re you, Madison. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Then why can’t I have a regular conversation about…sex?” I ask, needing the doctor in him to tell me I’m not a complete freak.
“Do you want to know what I think?”
I nod.
He strokes over my jawline, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “I think that it’s because you’re normal that you can’t talk about sex freely.”
“That makes no sense,” I reply, sighing.
“Madison, with what happened to you, no one expects you to be comfortable talking about something you’re only just coming to grips with. It’s going to take some time. And that’s normal. That’s what living is all about. So stop beating yourself up over it, okay?” He levels my eyes with his. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I softly reply.
His heartfelt speech has me wanting to clarify something I’m quite certain he already knows, but I want to make it clear anyway. “I don’t care how many women you’ve been with.” When he goes to speak, I press my finger over his lips. “I don’t care because we can’t take back our past. We can only move forward, and I want to move forward…with you.”
Taking a deep breath, I go on. “As you know, I’m not very experienced at sex. I’m sorry.” The moonlight reflects the pools of sadness in his eyes. “That night, with Dylan. He…r-raped me, but he didn’t…not there.” I’m falling over my words, but I press on. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m still a virgin.”
When he stares at me wordlessly, I’m hoping he understands what I’m trying to say. But my customary feelings of shame overwhelm me, and I instantly regret my decision to share. “I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear. I understand if you need some time…” But the air whooshes from my lungs when Dixon wraps me into his arms, cutting off any further discussion.
Tears fall freely as yet another part of me soars free.
