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With the wine flowing freely, Eris turned to me with a telling look in her eyes.
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
I looked at her. There was no question that she was.
“You’re one of the prettiest women I’ve ever met,” I said honestly.
“Then why don’t you want to have sex with me? Is it because you’re gay?”
“And if I was?” I asked fantasizing about finding a way out.
Eris laughed. “I’ve heard stories. I know you’re not gay. But what is it?” She said feeling the alcohol.
“Maybe I was just waiting for the right time,” I suggested suddenly filling her with hope.
“And what time is that?”
“Maybe it was the night before our engagement party at a beach house we had to ourselves.”
“Oh yeah,” she said excitedly.
“Yeah,” I replied with a smile.
“Would you like to kiss me?” She asked with drunken apprehension.
“Maybe I would,” I said staring at her.
“Then, why don’t you do it?” She asked shyly.
“Then, why don’t you come here.”
Eris got up from her stool across the kitchen’s island and immediately bent forward.
“What’s the matter?” I asked innocently.
“Nothing, it’s just my stomach,” she said before straightening up and trying again. “Oh,” she said pausing. “Excuse me.”
Erythritol is a zero-calorie sugar alcohol put in deserts to lower its calorie count. A few months ago she had tried a new brand of protein bar that didn’t agree with her stomach. The main ingredient? Erythritol, which is also available in granular form in the baking aisle.
“What’s the matter, dear? Not feeling well?” I yelled while cleaning up the dishes.
“I’m fine. I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” she yelled back.
“I’m sure you will,” I muttered under my breath.
Lying in bed with my shirt off, I waited for my fiancé. When she arrived, she didn’t look as confident as she usually did.
“I don’t feel well,” she said keeping her distance.
“What is it? Is it your stomach?” I asked caringly.
“Yeah.”
“Is it gas?”
“I don’t get gas,” she said defensively.
“Then what is it?”
