Stay with me on this one, guys. It's long.

---

February

"Hey," Chrisette answers the phone. I can tell that it's Todd on the other end. "Do you need anything?"

I go back to my computer.

"I wish I could, sweetie, but I'm headed to work right now. Babe could bring you some." I look at her sharply with a protest locked and loaded, but Chrisette shushes me with a wave of her hand. “Uh huh. Mkay, sure thing. I'll give him your address.”

I let her say her goodbyes before I start protesting. "Chrisette—"

She's barely paying attention to me as she grabs her purse and sunglasses. "His mom died yesterday, Jesse. Yesterday. Just bring the man another box of tissues."

"I thought all his family was already dead."

Chrisette gives me a curious look.

"That's what he told me." I try not to squirm.

"It's his foster mom, the one he spent most of high school with. They were super close."

"Oh.” Nothing I learn about that guy is fun. It’s never did you know that Todd was a national yo-yo champion in middle school? and always Todd survived the foster care system. But still, I don’t see why I’m the best person for, like, grief duty. So I try, “Well…I also have work. Like, a lot of it.”

“You can literally work whenever you want to,” Chrisette scoffs, kissing my cheek. “Take half an hour to act like a human.”

I’m not done whining. “He has a girlfriend!”

Placing her hands on either side of my face, my beautiful  wife speaks sternly to me. “Listen, baby. Sasha is coming back from Chicago tomorrow. You know I can’t miss more work until my maternity leave starts. All I’m asking you to do is bring my friend some Kleenex so he’s not crying into his sleeves.” Chrisette kisses me. “Can you do that for me?”

I pout exaggeratedly to make her laugh and grumble, “Yes.” She bites me playfully and escapes out the door.

I don't know why I got the biggest pack available, but an hour later I'm in one of the nicest lofts in town with an assload of tissues in my arms. I can't really knock, so I just kick the door a couple times.

"It's Jesse," I call.

The lock clicks and the door opens up a crack. "Come on in," Todd says hoarsely, and leaves my line of sight.

Following him into his apartment, my heart pounds like I'm entering a cage match. Honestly, the last time I saw the guy was at my wedding. I’m breaking my winning streak of Toddlessness.

He waves me to the large sectional and collapses in the middle of it. It’s so fucking uncomfortable to watch him try to think of something to say to me, so I busy myself with opening the pack of tissues. Should I compliment his apartment? Or ask him about his foster mom? Am I supposed to ignore how bloodshot his eyes are?

I sit on the other end of the couch. "Here."

Todd takes the new box of tissues I hold out and puts his forehead on his knees. Can I leave yet?

"Uh, do you, like, need anything?" I ask awkwardly.

Todd shakes his head. I sigh. I don't like Todd. But he's weeping silently into his sweatpants, he's wearing a fucking hoodie, and it looks like he hasn't slept in days. Chrisette told me to act like a human.

"Do you want me to go get you a burger or something?" When Todd doesn't respond I touch his shoulder "Hey—"

Todd grabs me in this fucking bear hug, like, wraps himself around me, and starts bawling like a baby. That's just pitiful. I can't not let him cry it out now, no matter how regularly punchable his face is. I pat his head and rock him a little; it's good practice for when my kid is born, at least. I never thought it could happen, but I actually feel some sympathy for him. It’s hard to fake snotting into someone's shirt.

I don't know what to say. My family is so small and everybody's alive even if we don’t get along; how could I possibly comfort this grieving man? I don't know what kind of relationship he had to his foster mom, but whether they were tight or not he's clearly torn up about losing her.

Patting his back, I tell him, "I’m really sorry about your mom."

Todd's response is to hug me even tighter. He's basically in my lap, wailing and shaking, and I don't know what to do or say. Quit overthinking, I eventually tell myself after all the patting and rocking side to side hasn't calmed Todd down. Treat him like any other sad person. Be nice.

"Hey," I say in what I hope is a soothing tone. Todd lifts his face a little and wipes a tear from his cheek. His lashes look even longer when they're wet, and his pale eyes are less calculating. "You're not alone, you know?" He nods, sniffling, and I kiss his salty mouth before letting him bury his face in my neck again.

Why the fucking fuck did I kiss him just now? That's something I would have done if Chrisette was sad, something to comfort her. Not Todd. Never fucking Todd. But I just kissed Todd of my own free will because he looked miserable and his face was close to mine.

We stay in that position for an hour, Todd occasionally reaching for another tissue, and I shift now and then so that he isn't cutting off my circulation. He talks about his mom, how she showed him what parental love could look like, how she wanted to adopt him but it was such a slow process that he aged out of the system. She helped put him through college. Todd used his first paycheck to take her out to dinner and she scolded him for wasting money on her.

I don’t want to know any of this. I don’t want Todd to be a real person with problems or a history or feelings. However, my hands keep stroking his back while he talks, soothing him when he gets choked up. I make encouraging noises right when I should shut up and let Todd stop talking. There’s work waiting for me at home, and I’m going to have to send apologies to a couple of clients, but I stay on that couch, holding fucking Todd like he’s a teddy bear.

Chrisette texts me to see how things are going, then sends a picture of her prenatal vitamins with the caption, "Gonna do a couple lines at work." I show the photo to Todd, who chuckles, and then we go right back to…cuddling? Are we cuddling? It's a cuddly position, but Todd is still a rat bastard.

When I finally leave Todd only says, “Thanks, Jesse,” which for some reason feels like the most loaded sentence he’s ever said. I go home feeling more sad and guilty than my wedding night, and tell Chrisette that I’ve been with Todd the whole time. She suggests that I’m more sensitive to feelings because I’m gonna be a dad. Maybe she’s right.

 

March—October 

I feel bad that Chrisette hates being pregnant so much when I've never had more fun. Finally I'm not the only sober one at parties. We spend way more time together now that she's helping convert the office into a nursery. I build bookshelves, and give massages, and take her to appointments, and it's fun because we're gearing up for the next phase of our family. It's like, this is the time when I prove that she didn't settle for me. Her mom was all, "Jesse seems very attentive," and Chrisette goes, "Yeah, he's been amazing," even without knowing I could hear her. Plus, she gets crazy horny at random times. It feels like when we first started dating, only we’re both trying as hard as I used to. She doesn’t even make fun of me that much when I ask her to be a little aggressive with me.

Best of all it feels like Todd has finally developed some sense of boundaries. He isn't calling Chrisette up all the time, or dropping by just whenever, or cornering me to stick his hand down my pants. When he's not around Chrisette and I are just in love, just us as we're supposed to be. Nearly nine months of unadulterated bliss, minus Chrisette’s morning sickness and tiredness and the general discomfort of growing a human in her uterus.Then the sole proudest day of my life, and then six weeks of trying to set a regular sleep schedule for baby Seth and coaxing Chrisette to take her postpartum medication.

Chrisette starts going out again. I encourage it so that she can see her friends; she hates feeling cooped up at home but doesn’t like taking Seth with her because she gets anxious about him. Sure, it means that she’s hanging around Todd again, but as Chrisette puts it: “My pussy still feels like a gaping wound.”

At least if Todd is around he has enough sense to stay out of our house. I mean, it’s not like I miss having sex with him. That would be fucking insane. Chrisette is probably keeping him away on purpose anyway. Who would trust that snake with an infant?

I know it’s the first-time-parent paranoia, but I can’t stand to have my child out of my sight for long when Chrisette isn’t there. So Seth and I hang out a lot. He becomes an extension of my body; I have him on me during meetings, when running errands, and the bassinet is in arm’s reach when I cook. All the practice I did with diaper changes pays off, and though I’m not getting much work done it doesn’t seem to matter when a tiny human being is morphing and growing in front of my very eyes. However, I’m fucking exhausted all the time. It barely registers when Chrisette starts working weekends.

“It’s like they didn’t know what to do with my cases, so they just stalled until I was back. The whole thing is a mess,” she complains as she nurses Seth one morning. 

“It’s a corporate merger; shouldn’t they have a whole team of lawyers to help?” I ask, though when I see her expression I clarify, “It’s not fair to you, is all.”

She sighs. “I wish, Babe, but we’re in crisis mode.”

I don’t know jack shit about lawyering, so I trust her on that. TV would have me believe that lawyers are always in crisis mode, so I’m grateful for any time Chrisette spends at home. There’s one time when her assistant messages me to say that he can’t get a hold of Chrisette. I’m trying to feed Seth and myself at the same time, so I write back, She’s probably still at lunch. And he says, Oh sorry. I thought she said she was running home. The baby in my arms distracts me from thinking too much more about it, but when I plug my phone in that night I see the text chain.

“Oh hey,” I yawn as Chrisette crawls into bed, “did the office get a hold of you today?”

“What?” she asks. Her tone tells me that I’m close to catching a stray for her work being overbearing, so I wave it off.

“Nothing big. Aiden texted me that he couldn’t reach you,” I say through another jaw-cracking yawn, “and thought you might be home for lunch.”

“Oh! I was at the doctor’s office and left my phone in the car,” Chrisette explains. I’m so fucking proud of her that she actually went to an appointment, but sometimes Chrisette gets irritated when I congratulate her for doing something she already knows she’s supposed to do. She says it makes her feel infantilized, which I can understand.

Instead I ask, “Any updates?”

It’s Chrisette’s turn to wave her hand dismissively. “It was just to renew my prescription.”

In the morning, when I’m updating our shared calendar, I see the appointment missing from yesterday’s schedule. But I’m a good husband, so I mark it down with a reminder in twenty-eight days to go back for a refill.

 

November

The week before my wedding anniversary, Sasha is the last person I expect to show up on my doorstep. I don’t know her well enough to read her expression, but she seems tense.

“Uh, Chrisette isn’t—”

“I know,” Sasha interrupts. “I need to talk to you.” She brushes past me before I can fully open the door. My brain starts racing at the kind of bad news she might be delivering. “Is someone hurt?”

“No.” She huffs at herself. “Well, maybe my ego.”

Oh no. Oh shit. Don’t say it. 

“Todd and Chrisette are sleeping together. I caught them.”

Deep down I knew this was going to happen eventually, but it still makes my knees weak. I sit down. 

“You’re sure?” My voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere else. I clear my throat. “Sorry, I believe you, I just…”

Sasha paces in front of the television. “I came home on my lunch break and walked in on them. She is supposed to be my best friend. This has obviously been going on for a while, but I was so confident that I was enough—I mean, fucking look at me!” she exclaims, gesturing angrily. “I don’t get cheated on! And who the fuck does that to their friend? You think you’re pretty smart, right? Like you’re a good judge of character, and then you find the characters you judged to be good, fucking on the kitchen island.”

The tirade stops when she looks down at me. 

"Jesse, I'm sorry," Sasha says. “I was so mad and I thought you had the right to know. Or I just wanted you to know so I wasn’t alone in my rage.”

I shake my head, feeling heavy. "It's not your fault, Sasha. They're grown-ass adults, and they know better. And to be honest—"

"You saw this coming?" Sasha finishes. The poor woman. She looks so sad.

I nod.

She shakes her head. "I should be more upset about my cheating boyfriend, but I always felt like Chrisette only set us up because she couldn't save him for later; you know what I mean? Always telling us how perfect we were for each other, how cute we were as a couple, like, protesting too much, you know? And Todd was always so weird about you two. But moving in together was his fucking idea, so why would I be worried that he’s waiting for Chrisette to dump you, right?"

I rub my eyes, feeling old. “Fucking why?”

Sasha’s mouth screws up. “Todd keeps everybody at arm’s length, which I think is because he’s holding onto some deep childhood shit,” she says. “I thought I could handle him, which was a mistake.”

We both stare at the floor for a second. What are the two of us supposed to do about it?

“Um, do you want to see Seth? He hasn’t been out much, so…”

Sasha seems startled by my offer. “Oh, thanks, but I’m not really a baby person.”

“Neither is his mom,” I grumble before I can shut up.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Sasha kind of laughs, “we picked some real pieces of shit to fall in love with, huh?” She picks up her purse to leave.

"Sasha."

She turns around.

"Seriously, thanks."

Sasha nods and closes the door behind her. 

Fucking Todd calls me that night.

"The fuck do you want?" I answer the phone.

He sighs. "I'm sorry, Jesse."

"No, you are fucking not. Congratulations: after all these years you got what you wanted."

"Look, man, it was me or a one-way ticket to Amsterdam. Chrissy's seriously going through some shit."

"Some shit?!" I cannot believe the words coming out of his mouth. "There's a clinical term for what she's going through. She got it diagnosed very easily. There’s even medication that she isn’t taking. Appointments that she skipped, apparently to hop on your rotten dick. Chrisette has a son. His name is Seth. Who she needs to come take care of because I can't fucking do it by myself. She won't feed him. She won't hold him. She comes running to you, and instead of being the friend you always claimed to be, you fuck her."

"Jesse—"

"Of course, she's gonna be happier away from her actual family. You're helping her to pretend that she isn't a goddam new mother."

"She's depressed…"

"I fucking know! And I know it isn't her fault, but you know what is? Not taking her pills. Missing therapy. Canceling appointments. Choosing not to deal with it like a fucking adult and running off to a fantasy affair with Señor Sociopath!"

My voice gets too loud; Seth's wail starts up in the nursery.

"Jesse, listen for a fucking second."

"I can't," I snap. "Seth just started crying, so I have to go take care of him so that he can live to cry another day. Fuck off forever."

I don't even bother hanging up when I shove the phone in my back pocket. It's an hour and a half before Seth calms down enough for me to put him back in his crib. He stares at his zoo mobile for a few minutes before going to sleep. I take up my customary place in the rocking lounge chair. It's too small for me; Chrisette picked it out.

This has to be my fault somehow. Everything that happened with Todd, all that guilt building up and me not saying anything—somehow that got pushed on Chrisette, and then when she got pregnant she couldn't be happy because she was so worried about what kind of world she'd be bringing a kid into or something. Chrisette is the only person in the world who ever wanted me as much as I wanted her, and I threw all that away for a couple minutes of physical satisfaction. I broke it, so I should fix it, right? Right?

A week later Todd calls me when I'm feeding the baby. 

"Please fuck off unless you're informing me that my wife is coming home," I say in a singsong voice.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Because I have a little baby boy in my arms, yes I do. Yes I do!"

Seth, smiling around his bottle, flails a little at me.

"Well, Chrisette is on her way over there—"

"Oh, boy, Mommy's coming home!"

"—but I just want you to know that she told me what she wanted to say to you, and I just want you to know that none of it was my idea."

"What's with the sudden change of heart? Did you steal somebody else's conscience? Is that what you did?" I tickle my son's round little belly. "I'll bet you did!"

Seth finds this conversation stimulating, at least.

"Naw, man, I just…" Todd sighs like the weight of the world is on his chiseled shoulders. "You were right, I should have sent Chrissy home. I’m really sorry."

I say nothing, hoping belatedly that I seem cool instead of dumbfounded. When was the last time someone genuinely apologized to me? Thanks to my temper I’m usually the one in the wrong. Not that I’m blameless here, even, but like…an I’m sorry is kinda nice.

 

When Chrisette walks in alone I feel my jaw unclench. It’s only been a week but she does look good—the bags under her eyes are smaller, her skin is glowing, and her sweater shows off her new cleavage. If she told me to drop my pants for her now, I’d do it. She puts her bag down, hangs her coat up, and folds her arms. I wait.

Chrisette wastes no time setting her conditions. "I want Todd to move in with us."

"What." My voice is completely flat; my wife has lost it.

She gestures nonchalantly. "He's a positive spirit, his lease is almost up, and since he’s not always tied to an office he can help me out with Seth while I work."

I want to shake her. Help her with Seth? I take care of Seth. Seth is a positive spirit. I work at home. Todd spends half his life on active construction sites. 

"That isn't a good idea, Chrisette."

"You know that if we get divorced, I'll get custody."

I can't breathe for a moment. If we get what now? I hadn't even thought about it, much less if I would get custody of my son. Chrisette was supposed to get better. Nobody had been around to see how she has been acting, nobody but Todd would know that she was out every night and not coming home. He wouldn't do a damn thing to help me. I can't lose Seth.

"I don't want a divorce," I say honestly, trying to sound like sweat didn’t just start beading around my hairline.

She folds her arms. "Then let Todd move in."

"Chrisette, that's weird. There's nowhere for him to sleep."

She just stares at me.

I get it. "No way. No fucking way."

"Then enjoy mixing formula for your monthly visitation days."

"Chrisette, that is fucking extreme!" I'm trying to stay calm, but it's damn hard to not yell.

She explodes. "I did not stop being a person just because something fell out of my uterus! I'm still young! I have goals, and feelings, and needs, and I'm more than just that baby's milk cow!"

Spreading my hands passively, I count to ten and use my NPR voice. "Nobody thinks of you as a milk cow," I reply carefully, "but this is some important, like, bonding time that you’re missing. You're also ignoring your own well-being, and I want to help. Seriously. Chrisette, just be here so we can figure shit out. We don't need Todd to do that." There's a headache forming above my right eye. 

"I need him," she insists.

“Are you for real right now? You understand that more changes won't—”

Chrisette cuts me off. “Do not mansplain postpartum to me, Jesse,” she seethes. “And if you love me the way you say you do, then you will trust that I know what I fucking need. And you will listen to me.”

This is emotional abuse, I almost say, but is that my wounded man pride talking? If I get defensive then I'll push her right back into the slimy embrace of do-whatever-you-want Todd. 

“I love you, and I want you to love yourself as much as I do,” I finally say. “Can you please just try doing what Dr. Gupta suggested?”

Chrisette seems to soften a little. “Yeah, Babe. I’m sorry that this is weird for you.”

“Well—”

She cuts me off. “This is just part of my healing. Giving birth is traumatic, okay? Todd will help me be good to you.”

“Fucking how?” I bust out before I can stop myself. It’s the wrong thing to say, obviously. Chrisette both shrinks into herself but seems to grow three feet taller.

She talks through clenched teeth. “It’s either me and Todd together, or you’re on your own. Pick, Jesse.”

I can’t. What if her parents find out? What if Seth likes Todd more? What if I have to watch her be in love and she’s happier than she ever was with me?

"Tell Todd to meet me by the fountain at Carver Park at eleven tomorrow," I finally say, trying to sound firm. "If this is happening, and he's going to be here while I'm working, then there are some ground rules that we need to go over."

Chrisette just rolls her eyes.

"And you," I point right at her tits, "are going to start pumping so I'm not feeding our son formula every damn day. Feed him yourself when you're home and take your fucking pills."

“You don't get to tell me how to be a parent.”

“I wouldn't have said anything if I'd thought you would do it. I can’t believe I have to negotiate with you about being a good fucking mom right after you were whoring around.” Again it's the wrong thing to say, but I'm hurting so badly that I don't know how to be kind.

Chrisette closes in on me like a shark. I’ve never been scared of her before. “If you,” she says in a low, slow voice, “ever talk to me like that again I will leave you. I will pack up that kid and you will never see us again.”

“Chrisette—”

“I will take out a restraining order on you. Do you understand me? If you fucking ever use that kind of language about me, if you raise your voice, I will haul you into a fucking courtroom and have you put on a list.”

I want to shrink into myself like a turtle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

She narrows her eyes, but relaxes a little. Right on time, Seth’s little hungry cry starts up.

“Please—”

“I fucking know, Jesse!”

“Sorry.”

Chrisette makes me text Todd, myself. It's the first message I've ever sent to the bastard, but he must have saved my number because he responds immediately with a simple, Can do. I guess structural engineering isn't all that demanding if he can just drop work to sit in a cold-ass park.

If I look at it sideways and squint a little, this meetup is a good thing. I shower and put on adult clothes for the first time in days. Seth is bundled up and experiencing the outdoors. There are some squirrels and shit scurrying around, so even if there's no live grass to touch there's still wildlife.

Todd actually looks happy to see me. Maybe he got dropped on his head as a child. "I'd never do that to you," I whisper to Seth, whose little mouth works in his sleep.

"Hey, thanks for meeting me here," Todd greets me like he called this shindig. “The beard is new. Looks good, man.”

"Chrisette said she'll only move back if you move in with us," I reply. No use dragging this shit out.

He hold his arms out. “May I hold him?”

I narrow my eyes. This is some sort of trap. Todd’s actually some sort of goblin who steals babies and turns them into circus animals. “Did you hear any of what I just said?”

“Yeah, and I want to hold Seth.” He curls his fingers a couple times; that gimme gimme gesture. It makes me want to cut him on the face. 

Nevertheless I hand over the most precious being in my life to the asshole ruining my marriage. Todd takes my son like he's just been handed a billion dollars. His face lights up, he smiles in a way that I've never seen, and settles Seth into the crook of his arm.

"Hey, handsome," he says softly as he runs his fingertip down Seth's chubby little cheek. "You look like your daddy. I'll bet you're the sweetest little boy in the world."

I smile at that; it's hard not to when someone compliments my boy. He is handsome, he does look like me, and he is the best baby in the world. Seth opens his eyes just a little bit and yawns.

“Why, good morning, sleepy boy. Aren’t you adorable?” Todd croons. You'd think he’d never seen a baby before. “He has your nose, I think.”

It’s cold and I shouldn’t want to be here. “I'm concerned that Chrisette is creating more problems instead of, like, getting counseling for the ones she already has. And that she’s using you as a buffer between expectations and reality.” I sigh and scratch my head. “But Seth needs his mom.”

"You don't want me there," Todd states matter-of-fact. “God, why do babies’ heads smell so good?”

"I don't want you anywhere," I reply bluntly, "but Chrisette claims that you're the only reason she hasn't booked it to Indonesia to 'find herself,' so I'll work with what I got." I want to say more. I want to tell somebody, even fucking Todd, about the threats she made and how I can’t sleep for fear that she’ll make good on them.

He kisses my son's head again. "That's pretty fucked up, man," Todd says.

That strikes me as so bizarre, this cuckolding, life-ruining, ass-fucking, manipulative motherfucker suddenly gaining a moral compass. I don't know why I'm laughing so hard. I don't know why I'm laughing at all. Maybe it's because I'm on a park bench in the middle of fucking winter, trying to negotiate goddam Todd moving in with me and my wife while he makes faces at my infant son. When did I become the craziest person I know?

"That is fucked up," I agree when I catch my breath. "What's worse is that she means it."

Todd shrugs. “It's impossible to know what she’s going through, though.”

I fucking know that! Ugh, this fucking guy. “She says she needs you around, so fine. You're around. Here's how you stay around.” I tick off the rules on my fingers. “Do not touch me. Do not even imply that anything was ever between us. Pay for a third of monthly utilities and the mortgage. Park on the street. Store your extra shit somewhere that is not my house. Help with cooking and housework. Stay out of my way, especially when I'm working.”

Touching my son’s nose playfully, Todd goes, “Whatever you want, Babe,” in a way that could either mean he’s planning to break every rule on purpose or that he wasn't paying attention to me at all.

And that’s it. I’m still looking at air mattress reviews when Chrisette announces that Todd will be here in a couple minutes. We got him some space in the closet and cleared out a spot for bathroom stuff, but that’s it. I’m not ready for a house guest. Roommate. Throuple.

She’s so excited when he arrives. I don’t move from the dining room table. Todd gives Chrisette a quick hug and lifts a carton. “I brought Babe some ginger beer.”

Is this supposed to be a fucking host gift?

“Ooh, we can make Dark and Stormies!” Chrisette says excitedly, but Todd holds it away from her.

“These are for your husband, for being as supportive as he is able at this juncture in your relationship.”

If I speak I’m going to curse them both out, so I say nothing. Todd meets my eyes—if I could incinerate him with my gaze I would—and puts his back to me.

“I’m actually just stopping by; I need to take some more stuff to the storage unit.”

Chrisette holds his arm affectionately as she says, “We can help you, if you want.”

Even before I can say We fucking cannot, Todd chuckles like she’s being ridiculous. “Don’t volunteer Jesse for this, you goose. I need to take some measurements—”

“For what?” my wife asks.

“My couch has a pretty comfy pull-out bed.” Now Todd glances back at me, and it’s like yeah bro, this feels like a detail you should have worked out beforehand.

Chrisette pshaws. “No, no, no. We are grown adults; no one is going to sleep on a sofa bed.”

It feels like a rock is growing in my stomach. “We talked about this. Let him at least see if the couch fits, baby,” I say, trying to sound casual about it. But my voice sounds weird and they both turn toward me.

The woman I married, who I thought chose me, leans around her side piece protectively. “We did talk about this, and I said he’s not sleeping on the couch. Or an air mattress. If you don’t like it, you sleep on the couch.”

“I am not sharing our bed with another fucking person,” I shout, and Todd raises his eyebrows. Fuck him. 

Chrisette folds her arms. “It’s a fucking California king.”

The baby monitor sounds. Seth is awake, probably thanks to the loud noises I just made. All I do is open my mouth and Chrisette throws her hands up.

“I already fucking know, Jesse.” She stomps to the nursery.

Todd decides to follow that with: “You're being a touch hypocritical, don't you think?”

"You are a certified life-ruiner," I say. It must sound exactly like I mean it, because that seems to take the wind out of his sails.

Todd gestures helplessly. "She's taking her pills."

And feeding Seth. I suppose that's what I wanted. "Honestly—and you're the only person I've ever said this to—I wish I had never met you."

"Harsh."

I rub my forehead. I’ve been getting a lot more headaches lately. "Do you have a plan, here?” I ask tiredly. “Like, five years from now, when Seth is in school, are you coming to parent-teacher conferences? Am I cooking for four? Does Chrisette still want you around?" I have more questions, all the shit that keeps me up at night.

Todd shrugs his shoulders, which I now know means he’s already thought about it and just refuses to say. “Look; I'll make sure that in the bed we only sleep.” Like he could promise that.

“How goddam saintly of you,” I say flatly.

“And that Chrissy is in the middle.”

“Again, good sir, you are too fucking kind.”

“We’re helping her keep herself alive, Jesse,” Todd says sharply, and I look over at him.

Neither of us was supposed to say it. Of all people, of all the smart, good, wonderful people, Chrisette shouldn’t…It’s not right. I shouldn’t try to, like, armchair diagnose her, and she’d be the first to remind me that men trying to explain women’s issues without listening to a single woman is how we got here in the first place. “She won’t, uh, when I ask, um,” I clear my throat; suddenly thick. “Could you see if she’ll think about therapy?”

Todd tilts his head. “Have you?”

“I went for a few months,” I reply defensively, “but my insurance doesn’t cover it and the cost was, well, whatever.”

“You’re not on Chrissy’s insurance?” He asks like it should be a stupid questions with an easy answer.

“No, she said it wouldn’t make a difference until we got married, and then…I don’t know. Like you say, this is about keeping Chrisette alive. It’s not about me.”

“No, I don’t think it is,” Todd agrees.

If I rub my eyes hard enough I won’t fucking cry. “Why couldn’t you leave her alone? Sasha is a fucking ten, bro. And,” Ooh shut up Jesse shut up shut up “all that shit you did to me, then, what was the point?”

Todd was silent long enough that I thought he was getting ready to say something real, but he just goes, “This is all for Chrisette.”

I shouldn’t have fucking asked. I knew—I knew!—I should never allow myself to wonder; that way lies danger. There be dragons. But I had to fucking whine like I didn’t know all along that the bastard only messed with me because I was with the woman he wanted. I was a goddam proxy, and I knew that from the start, and I didn’t need to get my dumb little feelers extra hurt by making Todd tell me directly.

With a deep, calming breath, I put my headphones on to indicate that I’m done with him for now. “Stay away from me, bro. That’s the only way this works.”

 

---

December on

There’s a routine I find—waking up when Seth does at five-thirty, doing some chores before everyone else is awake, working between feeding and changing Seth, taking meetings when he naps, and then cooking dinner so that it’s ready when Chrisette gets home. I hand Seth off to her for half an hour while I shower. She puts him down at seven-thirty, and then I have three hours until Seth wakes up again. If Chrisette is still home she feeds him, but usually Seth gets a bottle and I have him back in his crib before midnight. Chrisette tells me that she gets up with him in the night, but I know that Todd often does it instead. I’m just glad I get to sleep.

Ma Shen calls me one time, and for a second I think she’s going to offer to help, but she just shouts at me. English, then Mandarin, then English again, and eventually I just put the phone on the table and mute myself while she yells.

“Useless! What kind of household are you running?”

She’s mostly angry at Chrisette, I tell myself, and probably embarrassed. Then again, Pa Shen told me plenty of times that I couldn’t handle their daughter.

After about ten minutes I cut in. “Seth’s going to wake up any minute, so I’ve gotta go. I’d love for you to see him if you’d like to stop by, just let me know.” I should let her respond, but it feels good to hang up on her.

What kind of household am I running? Fuck if I know. I’m too tired to do anything but work and parent; Chrisette tells me one time that she fucked Todd in the bed right next to me and I slept through it. Todd tells her to shut up, which means she’s telling the truth even though he guaranteed me no fucking in my bed. Doesn’t make any difference if I know about it. Nothing feels like anything anymore.

One time Todd—fucking Todd—looks at me sideways and goes, “You okay?”

“Fine and fucking dandy, bro,” I reply. I have a deadline.

“How long has it been since you went to Guys’ Night?”

I shrug. I can’t imagine trying to answer a how’s-life question from the guys. I don’t want to talk about myself anymore, ever. Plus, Chrisette doesn’t like them.

Todd has a follow up. “Or hung out with anyone who isn’t us?”

I look up from my tablet. Todd is giving me this worried face that goes away almost immediately. I want to tell him that he’s the problem, but I can’t muster up the energy. “I’m fine.”

“Have you eaten today?”

I can’t remember, so I ignore him. A few minutes later a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup appears on the desk. I look up at Todd.

“I’ll leave you alone if you eat it.”

He stares at me until I pick up the spoon. It tastes fine, and I guess I hadn’t eaten anything since…did I have dinner yesterday? Who fucking cares.

The next day Chrisette texts me from the office. I want us to start having dinner together. Todd says he’ll cook sometimes.

For a while that works, and Chrisette is in top form. She gets an award at work, handles bigger clients, and even runs home to breastfeed Seth at lunch instead of pumping at the firm. For a couple months I had been hopeful that she’d choose me again, but aside from a quick peck when she gets home I could be a live-in nanny. Still, watching her be a great mom is one of the few joys I can find for a while.

She seems happy. That’s worth it, right? For better and for worse. I don’t get to skip out on the “worse” part.

Even when he’s brushing his teeth next to me, I try not to think about Todd. I make dinner for three, but I don’t think about Todd. I go to sleep with two other people in my bed, but I don’t think about Todd. I masturbate in the shower almost every day, just to feel something, but I definitely don’t think about Todd. I don’t think about anything then.

In the spring he catches me. We don’t get to lock the door when we shower because we only have the one bathroom. I’m getting ready to come and so that white noise is in my ears, blocking out everything except that feeling of almost there, almost there.

The shower curtain flies back. Todd stares at me, dressed like he just got out of a meeting. I don’t have any words; standing there like an idiot with my dick in my hands. Todd kicks off his shoes.

“What?” My brain can’t even function enough to finish the dozen questions I have. Todd drops his suit jacket on the floor and climbs into the tub. My response to an adrenaline rush must be to freeze, because I just stand there while Todd touches me, brushing my stomach with one hand while the other is busy on my inner thighs. I do have the presence of mind to close the shower curtain, though. Chrisette hates it when there’s water on the floor.

I jump when he touches my balls. Todd grins evilly, the water pouring over us and blurring his glasses. My entire pelvis feels electrified, and at any moment the fuse will be lit and it’ll be too late. Todd’s shirt is soaked through in the front already.

Steadying myself with a hand on the wall, I let Todd grip my shaft and jerk it slowly. Holy fuck, it’s been a long time since anyone else touched it. He’s teasing me—easing up the pressure as his hand travels to the head until he’s barely brushing the tip, playing with the foreskin.

“Fuck, that’s nice.” I didn’t think that I was going to say it, but once it’s out in the open Todd smiles even bigger before he kisses me. Not my mouth, at first. My neck, my ears, my shoulders, my jaw, until on instinct I turn my face towards him. It’s not like I wanted to kiss him. It’s good etiquette. It's a habit. It’s being deprived.

Without letting go of my cock Todd unzips his pants. I let him guide my hand inside, but I don’t stroke him gently. I just want to get off; I want him to get me off; I shove his underwear down enough to jerk him hard. His cock stiffens in my hands, which is weird and wild. It’s not a turn on because I hate Todd. I just want him to make me cum. There’s no way to prove whether I’m horny because of Todd or just because there’s a hand on my dick. 

He pulls me to him. I fight to breathe past the water running down my face and Todd’s mouth on mine.

“That’s it,” he says softly. “That’s good.”

“Don’t fuck me,” I say for some reason. 

Todd chuckles a little. “Why not?”

“Just don’t right now.”

“Ha! Fine,” he says, nipping my bottom lip, “I won’t fuck you.”

It’s only natural to let him slip his tongue in my mouth, or to do the same to him. There’s nowhere to go because Todd’s other hand grips my ass so I can’t pull away. This all makes sense. If I rub my finger over the head of Todd’s dick then he jacks me harder. I can barely stand the furious pace; my toes are trying to curl and my thighs tremble.

Todd asks against my lips, “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” I say, too foggy to lie. I’m so fucking close. 

“Ask me nicely.”

Asshole. “Let me come.”

“Say please.”

“Please let me come,” I beg. I don’t care I don’t fucking care just let me come. 

“Say my name.”

“Please, Todd.”

“Again.”

“Please, Todd, let me fucking come!”

“Come, then,” he says.

He kisses me and I respond like I’m starving for him. It’s just that I’m right there, I’m gonna come, I’m so fucking close and it feels so good and shit, shit I’m fucking his hand like a tight pussy and he squeezes just right and I’m fucking coming, oh my god I’m coming, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit, shit. Oh fuck. Holy shit. 

“I’m fucking shaking,” I gasp, and of course Todd doesn’t give a shit. 

“On your knees,” he orders, and I’m so cum drunk that I kneel right there in the cramped tub as Todd jacks himself onto my face. “Open up.”

Whatever. I can barely tell the difference between the water and the hot jizz that shoots onto my face save for the little bit that gets in my mouth. It’s fine; it’ll wash off. The water is in my eyes, so I can’t even see Todd when he leans down to kiss me one last time and, like…this is a motherfucking kiss, bro. Todd puts both hands on my neck and uses his thumbs to hold my head in place. He goes softly at first, but then it’s like he’s trying to find the cum I swallowed and take it back. I feel it in my toes, even though my dick is in recovery mode.

“That’ll do, Babe,” he says when he lets me go.

I almost respond, “Thank you,” but I clamp my mouth shut.

---

April

“No, Scott just got out of surgery and I’m going to visit,” I remind her. “You’re supposed to watch Seth tonight.”

“I’m going out,” Chrisette repeats stubbornly. “Tell Todd to watch him. He’s super good with Seth.”

That is one trait of Todd’s that we can actually agree on. He is super good with our son. However, Todd is on some job site four hours away, and he’s not getting back in time to babysit.

“He doesn’t get back until after the visiting hours are over. Scotty’s sister put a whole meal train signup together. I told you about this.” I sound so whiny. “It’s on the calendar.”

Chrisette responds by kissing my forehead as she puts her earrings in. “Get something delivered or visit tomorrow during the day. Rowan’s only in town tonight.” She’s out the door before I can form my next protest.

Running through my list of childless friends in town takes about eight seconds. I haven’t seen most of them since the wedding; it’d be too weird to call them suddenly to come sit on my couch for an hour while Seth sleeps. And then if Todd came back while I was still out, and then he’s the one to explain why he has a key to my house? The most I tell anybody is “He’s staying with us for a while,” but even that leads to more questions, so…I guess I haven’t been talking to anyone, really.

It’s fine. I text Scotty and his sister, update the meal train calendar, and scoop Seth up for bedtime. He’s been fussy all day but doesn’t have a fever. We rock in the dark of his bedroom—I can’t remember any lullabies so I sing him “Stacey’s Mom” for an hour—but my poor baby won’t settle down. He’s usually a good sleeper. Is he okay? 

I even text my mom. Hey, can you think of any reason why Seth would be crying after months of sleeping well? I don’t think he’s sick. 

Mom must be off work tonight, because she replies immediately. Babies will go through sleep regression every now and then. As long as he’s fed, clean, dry, and warm then he’ll be fine. If he’s teething you can give him Children’s Tylenol.

Okay, so I just didn’t come at this from the common sense angle. No new teeth seem to be coming in, but I give my kid some Tylenol anyway. “Sleep is for champions,” I whisper encouragingly as I set Seth in his crib. He’s screaming at me before I’m out of the room.

Maybe I’ll get some work done. I’m not behind yet, but lately it feels like my brain is going bad. Everything takes longer. Tonight, though, I can at least put together some mood boards for one of my clients.

Seth finds a new decibel and I give up quickly. I can't focus with my kid bawling his eyes out twenty feet away. Am I being too harsh? What if he pooped and I'm just ignoring it? But he just went, so he should be good for a few more hours…Seth is still wailing when Todd walks in.

"Do you need me to tag in?" he asks.

I shake my head. "He needs to cry it out and go to sleep.” My voice shakes, which makes me realize that my hands are shaking, too. I clench them. “He's fed, dry, and clean. He doesn’t have a fever."

"Is Chrisette out?"

"Yeah." Why am I having so much trouble breathing? Am I having a heart attack? I'm not even thirty!

Todd puts his bag down on the dining table. "Dude, are you okay?"

"Fine." Not fine—my airway is shutting down. I’m gonna throw up.

"You sure?" He reaches for my head area, probably just to clap me on the shoulder, but I knock his hand away. He gives me calm down hands.

"Just…don't touch me right now."

"Okay, I won't."

I clasp my hands above my head to try and open my ribcage. My nose is tingling and my eyes feel weird. Air seems thinner; my lungs can’t get enough. I’m sweating even though the house is cool. My heart beats erratically. “My chest—I think I might be having a heart attack.”

Todd approaches slowly. "Jesse, hey, let me help."

He’s walking like he’s Chris Pratt in a fucking raptor cage, and also I can’t stop gasping long enough to tell him to fuck off so I let him get close and the guy…I almost laugh, because his whole "help" business is to give me a fucking hug. He's all careful about it, too, like I'm gonna freak out on him or something. I mean, it'd be funny if that isn't when I realize I'm crying.

“This is a panic attack,” Todd says. “You aren’t dying. Hang onto me.”

What if he’s wrong and I am dying? Does a panic attack mean that I have anxiety? Do I need meds? What if Chrisette’s issues are because of my bullshit and I should have been the one seeing a psychiatrist? How am I gonna be a fucking dad if I can’t get my shit together? I can’t even fucking get goddam air in my fucking lungs!

“You’re so stressed that your brain and body are out of sync,” Todd continues, apparently unbothered that I’m literally dying in his arms. “This is a panic attack. You can breathe. I can feel it.”

“No, I can’t.” My lungs are shriveling up; I can tell. 

“It’s a panic attack. You can breathe with me. Can you feel my chest moving?”

“Yeah.”

“I can feel yours. Let’s take some big breaths together.”

I try, but I’m shaking and also I’m probably dying and Seth will be alone and I’ll be alone and dead.

Todd places his hands on my back just below my ribs. “On this next breath I want to see if you can press against my hands. Can you do that?”

I nodded.

“Okay, try with me. Good. While we breath out, we're going to count to seven. I’ll do it with you.”

I don’t know how long we stay like that, Todd wrapped around me, my fists clenched by my sides, before I realize I can get air into my lungs without trouble. Fucking embarrassing.

"Sorry, dude," I say, pulling away. "It's been a long day." It's been a long year.

Shrugging, Todd guides me to the couch. He repeats in that soft, soothing tone, "Keep taking even breaths," as he sits me down. I feel strung out.

He gets me some water and puts one of Chrisette’s fuzzy throw blankets around my shoulders. I’m not cold, but the weight is nice. I wish I had one of those Temple Grandin cow-squeezing machines.

“Can you,” I start, but my voice is garbled. I try again. “Can you, like, put some pressure on me?”

“Absolutely,” Todd says, and sits so that he can pull my back against his chest and wrap his arms around me. He squeezes so that my arms are trapped, and like Seth in his sleep sack I find this immobility helpful. He pulls his feet onto the couch so that he can cage me in with his knees. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Just, um, hang on.”

I don’t actually know what I mean but I think Todd gets it since he nudges my head back onto his shoulder so he can press his cheek to my forehead, too. “I got you,” he says repeatedly. “I got you.”

I think I'm broken.

The next sound I register is the front door opening. My head is on a pillow, but it really feels like I took a nap on Todd. Like the pillow is on him.

"What the hell?" Chrisette giggles drunkenly.

Todd shushes her and pats my back, which I realize he’s been doing for a while. I am in his lap. "Babe had a really, really hard day," he whispers. "He's been asleep for about an hour."

"Seriously?" Chrisette's boozy breath brushes my cheek when she leans over the back of the couch. "Leave him there and come to bed." She kisses Todd, and the wet smacking sound makes me want to scrub my ears.

"Ugh, go brush your teeth," Todd replies.

Chrisette breathes on him exaggeratedly before stumbling down the hall. She's a happy drunk, at least. While the water runs I feel Todd slide out from under me. He takes my shoes off, my belt, unbuttons my jeans and pulls a blanket over me. The tap shuts off in the bathroom.

"Todd, come on," Chrisette whines from the hall.

I open my eyes to see Todd's light-colored gaze directed at me. I am too fucking tired of everything to do more than blink at him. Please tell her no for once. Todd sighs and stands, briefly puts his hand on my head, and then walks down the hall.

I lie on the couch, listening to my wife fuck her boyfriend in our bed. At least the baby is quiet.

Later that week Todd pops his head in Seth’s room during our morning routine. “When you were working out, did you go to a gym or do it at home?”

Seth abbaabbaabbaa’s at Todd, clearly tired of this diaper change, and flails happily.

“Stay still, dude! There’s still poop on you!” I address my kid before answering Todd. “Uh, mostly at home. The weight rack was in the garage, but then you had stuff, so…”

Todd ignores the dig. “My gym has childcare from six to ten. Bring Seth and come before work. You’re up anyway.”

“I don’t have—” I start to protest, but Todd cuts me off.

“Hey man, if you only stay in this house and stress about everything then you’re gonna keep having panic attacks.” He raps the doorframe with his knuckles like the matter is settled. “I’ll put all of us on my membership, so just come. I’ll drive.”

Am I going to turn down free-ish childcare and the chance to leave my house? Yes I would, except the next morning Todd has packed the diaper bag and a gym bag for me by the time Seth is finished with breakfast. Three days a week we all go to the gym. Todd doesn’t try to talk to me unless it’s about house stuff.

A few weeks later Chrisette eyes me as I’m setting the table. “Arm day is working, Babe,” she says appreciatively.

I glance up at her in surprise. “Thanks.” She sounds like she used to, like when she would walk up and bite me for no reason. It was weird and I loved it and I didn’t realize I missed it.

“You seem less mopey, too,” she goes on. “The endorphins are doing their job.”

I up the gym visits to five times a week.

---

July

Even with the sun down it's too hot to be outside, but that means everyone else is indoors. There are so many fucking people in my house right now. The sticky night air is heavy in my lungs, which turns each swallow of soda into syrup. If I drank alcohol, this would probably be a good night for a cold beer.

Laughter swells inside the house, which is good because it means no one is going to come looking for me. I smiled as much as I could already. Chrisette made a bunch of new friends since she and Todd got together—pissed Sasha off and blew up their friend group—and I don’t want to answer a single question or learn a name. Maybe I’m being a little bitch, but at least I’m not spoiling the party, right?

The swish and click of the sliding door announces an intruder. Who else would it be aside from Todd?

"There are a lot of people in your house right now," he comments, handing me another cold soda can as he sits down beside me.

"I think I know four of them," I reply, "and I'm including you and Chrisette."

Todd chuckles. "You married the world's biggest extrovert."

"You're telling me."

For a moment we sit in comfortable silence. Someone is playing the piano. I can tell it’s not Chrisette; she plays way better than that.

Sweat makes its tickling way down the back of my neck as I finish off my lukewarm cola and press the frosty new one to my temple. Three, no, four fireflies signal each other in tall grass. Isn’t that supposed to be a sign that there’s clean water nearby? I need to mow tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll leave it for the fireflies.

Todd ruins everything by opening his mouth. "No offense, but why are you still here? I mean, if not just for Seth."

If I look at him I'll want to punch him, so I keep my eyes on the lawn. "Offense taken. I'm not going to be the one who calls it quits."

He whistles. "You're either an optimist or a masochist, dude."

"I'm a realist. The longer I hang in there, the more likely you'll get bored and move on."

Todd says nothing. Did I hurt his feelings? Maybe because he brought me a cold drink I feel the need to justify myself.

"Be for real, man," I explain. "This whole thing is not sustainable. Chrisette needs stability more than a fucking enabler."

"Jesse." Here Todd pauses for so long that I think he's done. But nope. "She still wants to leave."

Fuck. I knew it. I knew it in my head, but I kept hoping against goddam hope…"She didn't tell me that," I reply stubbornly.

Todd sighs heavily. "You know she wouldn’t. In her own way, I think she’s trying not to hurt you."

"Then why are you telling me?" I keep counting fireflies. There might be seven out there. 

In my peripheral vision Todd shrugs. "You deserve to know if you're going to be down a spouse."

I don't know why, but that makes me laugh. "Thanks, buddy. You're a real pal."

"Come on, Jesse," Todd says quietly. "I'm trying to keep her here."

On this sticky summer night with my home full of strangers, it's easier just to believe him. For a while, at least, I'll pretend that we're two guys holding a family together as best we know how. 

 

---

August

The house is weirdly quiet when I get back from my Saturday morning run. "Morning,” I greet Chrisette, who’s fully dressed and leaning on the back of the couch. Where’s Seth?”

Chrisette doesn't look up from her phone. “Todd has him. Something something play date.”

“The fuck?”

Now she lifts her eyes. “Somebody from the gym—Liam’s mom, maybe?—invited Seth to this thing for toddlers at the library. You were busy, so Todd went.”

I try to keep my voice casual. Neutral. “Why didn't you go?”

Chrisette shrugs. “Todd wanted to. I don’t know any of your gym friends”

I drop my shoes by the front door. “And you couldn’t fucking ask me?” So much for neutral.

“Ugh. Jesse, quit acting like Todd is some stranger. You’re not the only one who gets to make decisions,” Chrisette’s voice rises, “about my son who I carrried to term in my fucking uterus and then pushed out of my vagina.”

“I didn’t say—”

“It’s what you meant, asshole! Oh my god, I am so sick of your self-righteousness!”

This has turned so fast that I get the hot-then-cold tingles that normally come with being caught doing something wrong. “Can we take a beat? I’m just saying that Todd is not a primary caregiver of our kid, so one of us should be there.”

Now Chrisette rolls her eyes. “Fine. God forbid I have a guilt-free day off.”

I’m about to take issue with that until I realize how bad I fucked this up. This was my chance to have alone time with my wife, and I made it about Todd. “Can I,” I propose, “apologize by taking you out for brunch? There’s a new mimosa special at Melt. I’ll drive.”

She sighs, clearly struggling to let go of the argument. “Thanks, baby, but I’m meeting some people.”

“Who?” I ask, then at Chrisette’s irritated look I check my tone. “Did any of them come to the party, I mean.”

“Lauren did, but I don’t think you met her.” Chrisette stands, gathering her thick dark hair into a ponytail. There’s something so sexy about that, and I kick myself again for starting a fight. “My ride is here.”

I turn to see a sedan with a bright rideshare logo on the dash pulling up to the curb. For some reason I’m feeling desperate to be useful. “Hey, if you want me to pick you up later, I can. I’m always happy to be your chauffeur, you know.”

Chrisette puts her phone away and kisses my cheek on her way past. “Don’t worry about it. See you later.”

For the first time in months I am alone in my house. What do I do with myself? Shower, but then…what? What’s appropriate for alone time that could end in less than an hour? I end up wasting all my time on my phone, but it’s nice to do nothing for a little bit.

It’s well after two o’clock when I start to get really worried. They should be back by now. Toddler-centered events never last very long, and even if Todd had literally just left when I got back, and even if there was some lunch thing involved, they should be back. Seth’s afternoon nap is gonna be ruined if he doesn't—

“Ooo!”

I'm so startled that I drop my phone. It clatters to the floor accompanied by Seth’s high-pitched laughter and Todd's deeper snickers.

“Godammit,” I grumble as I bend down to check the screen. Still intact.

“Ooo!” Seth shouts. “Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!”

I hold out my arms so he can fall into them. “Yep, you scared the bejeezus out of Daddy.”

Todd is grinning like he's done nothing wrong. “We heard you in the kitchen and I think Seth actually tried to shush me. Little man has a sense of humor.”

“Big man should know better than to take my kid without telling me,” I reply in a tone that makes both Todd and my kid look at me warily.

“Big man volunteered and Mommy said it would be fine.” Todd’s tone tells me he knows I want to strangle him. “Come on, Jesse, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

I glare at him.

“With Seth,” Todd amends.

The little man himself starts squirming to be put down. I lower him to the ground so I don't have to look Todd in the eye when I grunt, “No.” 

My argument with Chrisette springs to mind immediately. “Sorry,” I say begrudgingly. “You are a trusted caregiver.”

Todd huffs amusedly. “So, there’s a face you make when you realize that you’re wrong in the middle of a sentence.”

“Huh?”

“No, it’s kinda…it makes me like you better.”

“Neat,” I respond drily.

“You’re forgiven for overlooking my Super Nanny powers.”

I watch Seth crawl over to the coffee table so I don’t have to meet Todd’s gaze. “Good.”

“And for thinking that I would ever presume to hijack your parenting just because you don’t like me.”

“Thanks so much.” Seth is drooling a lot. I need to make sure all the bibs get washed tonight.

“And I promise I’ll make sure you’re aware when I’m filling in for Chrissy. I shouldn’t have assumed you were in the know.”

I still keep my eyes on Seth. He’s so, so close to walking. “Much obliged.”

“Now help me make dinner.”

“What?” Only now do I notice that Todd had a few grocery bags with he walked in.

“We had lunch in the park and went grocery shopping on the way home. Help me make spaghetti.”

I can feel my eyebrows scrunching together. “Isn’t that, like, three ingredients?”

Todd sighs. “Peasant. I make it from scratch.” Then he immediately brightens up and digs his phone out of his pocket. “Also, let me drop you a bunch of stuff. I took so many photos; Seth did amazing at this thing. It was all musical instruments…”

Well, if he’s talking about my kid I guess it’s fine to hang out with Todd. He shows me a video of Seth banging on this teeny red piano—Seth looks so proud of himself! Little Mozart!—and hovers over my shoulder while he talks. By the time we’ve watched all the videos and gone over which kids and parents were there, the tension has left my shoulders. We drag the high chair to the bar so Seth can watch what we’re doing and have a snack, and then we cook together. Todd shows me a shortcut for forming meatballs with an ice cream scoop that I forgot we had. It’s fine for this to feel fine. 

Also it’s not weird if we have a, like, very domestic dinner that evening. We’ve been doing this with Chrisette for a while, and she’s just not here, is all. Even with stripping Seth down to his diaper, eating spaghetti means he needs a full bath. Seth likes to have all his people in sight, so it makes sense that Todd comes with us, perching on the toilet lid and handing back all the toys Seth throws out of the tub. It makes sense for Todd to be part of the bedtime routine. And of course then we’ll clean up the kitchen and dining room together.

I almost let it go without saying anything, but by the time we’re almost done with dishes we’ve spent almost five hours together. Just hanging out.

“You don’t have to feel any type of way about it,” Todd says with a shrug. “We’re all still figuring this out.” His tone is careful, like he’s ready for me to start hyperventilating again. 

Handing him the ladle to dry, I reply, “No, I don’t mean that it’s bad. I wish it was Chrisette and not you, but…whatever.”

“Rude,” Todd chuckles, “but I get what you mean. Neutral has been hard to find.”

“Neutral! Dude, that’s exactly what I’ve been missing!” I exclaim. “Everything has been tense, and bad, and frustrating, and scary, for so long that the only way I know that time is passing is that Seth keeps transforming in front of my eyes. Every new tooth is like, ‘it’s a new day! Keep going, motherfucker!’”

Todd huffs kinda sadly. “I hear you.”

I pause my scrubbing to give him a judgemental look. “Do you, man?”

He shrugs, leaning past me to put the ladle away. “Jesse, this is hard for me, too. Definitely not like it is for you, but it’s taxing.”

“Nobody’s having fun here, huh?” I laugh morosely.

“I can help you more,” Todd offers. “I’m trying to help.”

His money helps, his cooking helps, he’s changed as many diapers as Chrisette has, he also did all those home projects I guess, but, “Bro, you just said it’s hard for you.”

Todd flips the dish towel over his shoulder and leans against the counter. “Of course it is. I’m in too deep.”

Against my better judgment I ask, “What does that mean?”

“I have thought about leaving, but…” Todd shrugs. “I legit thought postpartum might kill Chrissy back then, and though she’s better now it was fucking scary for a few months. It’s still scary sometimes—you’ve seen it. So I worry about how she would react. I worry about Seth. I worry about the burden it would put on you if she had a relapse. It’s all too tangled up.”

Now I have a bunch of questions that all have depressing answers. I hand Todd the spaghetti pot I finished washing. “You make it sound like we’re forming a rat king.”

That makes him laugh. “In a sense. Even my therapist thinks this whole situation is royally fucked.”

“You go to therapy, bro?”

“Yeah, bro. Although I think she might fire me as a patient.”

“Wait,” I turn all the way around, incredulous. “Why? Can she do that?”

Todd gestures around with the pot. “I don’t know—because of the rat king? Imagine if Scotty or Joe were to be like, ‘Help me, Jesse. I’m in a weird, codependent throuple and one of them actively hates me!’ Nobody has those tools.”

“I don't…hate…you.” The words seem to stick in my throat.

Now Todd fully guffaws. “Oh my god, your lil’ face! That was so hard for you to say!”

Reluctantly I smile. “I mostly mean it.”

Todd laughs harder, and then I can actually mean it because he’s always the guy who has everything under control. Oh look at me, I’m Todd. I’m so cool and collected and handsome and nothing ever gets to me. But now he’s in my kitchen, holding a big old stock pot, having a giggle fit because I tried—not even that hard—to be nice to him.

September

I wipe my face with my shirt and throw it over the mower handle. I should have gotten one of those self-propelled ones, but I was trying to save a buck. This one was a neighborhood estate sale find that I towed home with a bungee around my waist while I pushed Seth’s stroller ahead of me.

Chrisette catches my eye by waving from the patio. Seth is on her hip, waving too. I shut the mower off.

“We’re heading out,” she calls. She’s smiling, but she still looks nervous. This is supposed to be the big fence-mending with her folks; the first time they’ll see Seth since the whole Todd thing. They specifically requested that I not be there.

“You’re smart, beautiful, and charming!” I shout back as encouragement. “You got this, baby.”

She has Seth blow me a kiss—he’s almost got it down—and I get back to my task. Now I can turn my music all the way up in my headphones and drown out every thought in my brain. 

If I could just delete the other man from the picture, this feels normal. Mowing on a Sunday, picking up sticks and tossing them into a pile as I go, wondering if I could manage a couple of raised beds to grow herbs and shit in. And then I remember that the reason I think we’d even use homegrown herbs is because Todd would use them, and it starts feeling weird again.

It should feel weird, though. To paraphrase the liturgy of my childhood, it is right and good that I not get used to being a third wheel in my marriage. It has been better lately, mostly because Chrisette’s new meds really crush her sex drive. Even Todd isn’t getting any, as far as I know. We’ll see what happens when her system gets used to them.

Smelling of grass and my own armpits, I finish mowing and head to the shower. I don’t acknowledge Todd when I pass behind him; he got the same order to stay away from the reunion.  He’s playing video games on the couch and wearing his headphones, so he probably doesn’t even notice me come inside.

Maybe that’s why I leave the bathroom door wide open. Five days in the gym per week have been pretty good to me, even if I’m not trying to bulk up. It’s not as hard to look at myself in the mirror, is what I mean. It’s bad for the pipes if I wash everything down the drain, so I’m picking grass out of my beard when I see movement in my peripheral vision.

Todd is leaning against the doorframe, watching me. His eyes have the intensity of a hawk watching a mouse. It’s only then that I realize he’s been looking at me like that a lot lately. 

“What?” I ask, and even my voice sounds like I want something from him.

He stalks towards me, undoing his belt. My head is hot. I could do this; why not? Chrisette doesn’t want me and I’m tired of masturbating. My body remembers how Todd feels. I’m half hard already. We could fuck if I wanted it. Nobody else would know.

He’s right in front of me now. Todd tugs his shirt over his head and throws it in the corner. He’s looking at me like he’s going like I’m dinner and he hasn’t eaten in days. My heart pounds heavily, thudding and pounding in my head, my gut, my cock. Todd dips two fingers into the waistband of my shorts and yanks me forward.

I say the only thing that comes to mind. 

“What does ‘no’ mean, Todd?” I ask.

He stops and cocks his head. “You were giving—”

Blood is rushing to and away from my head so fast I have to steady myself against the sink. I try to sound chill. “What does it mean to you?”

Todd’s adam’s apple bobs. “No means no.”

Hoping he can’t tell that I’m breathing a little harder than normal, I say clearly, “Pay close attention to my lips. No.”

Todd’s mouth opens and closes like a dying fish. Then he buckles his belt and walks silently out of the bathroom. When I jack off in the shower, it’s to the feeling of victory. 

 

October

“Fresh new kicks! And pants, you got it like that so you know you wanna dance,” I rap, bouncing Seth in my arms. “So move, out of your seat, and get a fly girl and catch this beat—”

A snort makes me whirl around, which Seth loves.

“Don't let me stop you,” Todd laughs from the hallway. “You were killing it.”

“Shut up,” I reply automatically, but I'm in too good a mood for him to ruin it. MC Hammer and I are keeping my son happy amidst the woes of an ear infection. Seth beats my chest and throws his head back trustingly. I catch him as he plunges toward the floor, and Seth shrieks.

“Moh,” he demands, squirming happily. “Moh, moh, moh.”

“Your choice of music is…not The Wiggles,” Todd comments as he watches me catch Seth again.

“I know what my kid likes,” I retort.

He grins. “Next you should teach him ‘Splash Waterfalls.’”

“Nah, bro. ‘WAP,’ because Seth is a feminist.”

“Oh for sure.”

“Heh. Why are you home?” I catch my thrill-seeking kid again.

“A site visit got canceled, so I don’t have to be back at the office until three. I came to see if Seth wanted to go out for lunch. You’re allowed to come if you want.”

My first reaction is to make a billion legit excuses. Not without Chrisette. Seth is still mostly on baby food; we’d have to pack so much. A restaurant high chair situation is unpredictable. A lot of men’s restrooms still don’t have changing tables. What if Seth is fussy and we bother everyone else. While I’m still picking which excuse to give, Todd jumps in.

“Listen, I’ll be here as backup. The diaper bag is already packed, Chrissy wouldn’t care, and if things get too messy we’ll pack things up to go.”

My brain starts forming even more potential chaos, but Todd throws a stuffed animal at me.

“Come on. If I take Seth alone you’ll have me arrested for kidnapping. I want sushi.”

“Sushi does sound good,” I admit.

Todd claps me on the shoulder like a buddy. “Boys’ trip to Fuji Kaitenzushi!”

It occurs to me once we’re there that this might be a trap. Here, surrounded by other people, trying to handle feeding ourselves and a baby, we seem normal. Like we get along. I don’t know if we look like a family, but it kinda feels like when my parents were still together and they would take me to get a burger if I had a good report card. That little hour when they seemed to like each other because they were proud of me.

Seth mushes rice into his mouth, babbling loudly at anyone passing by.

“He starts so strong,” Todd laughs. “He says ‘Oh! Hi!’ like real words are coming after, and then it’s gobbledygook.”

I agree. “But he’s gotta talk to everybody. I thought babies this age were supposed to have stranger danger.” Honestly, this could not have gone better. Seth has been having the time of his life with the chopstick wrappers, I’m having sushi for the first time in years, and Todd is being extremely neutral. Sure, his foot is touching my foot, but maybe he thought it was a table leg.

Our server, who’s really just there to bring drinks and count plates, keeps coming back to say hi to Seth. He’s fascinated by her, so it gives her a good excuse. At one point she goes, “You’re gonna be so much trouble for your dads, aren’t you!” and Todd looks so fucking pleased that I don’t correct her. I even have the server take a picture of us to send to Chrisette. She texts back My handsome boys! with a heart eyes emoji.

It isn’t until we’re almost home that Todd goes, “Thanks for coming with me. It’s my mom’s—my last foster mom—her birthday, and I didn’t feel like being alone all day.”

“Oh, uh, sure man. Anytime,” I say awkwardly. 

I guess last year he would have been with Sasha, and with Chrisette constantly working late maybe I was the only available option. I’m pretty sure Todd has friends. Or maybe he didn’t recover from when he and Chrisette imploded their friend group after Sasha caught them together.

“Do you, like, do anything special to remember her?” I ask because ‘I miss my dead mom’ is kinda heavy to end on. 

“Sort of. I try to live like her. Her main thing was making sure we felt stable and loved, so…” he trails off as we get out of his truck.

“Ah, so Seth’s first real restaurant experience, shit like that?”

“Yeah, shit like that.”

Seth fell asleep in his car seat, and I’m about to pick him up when I allow myself to think a little bit about what Todd was saying. “Do you want to take him inside?”

Todd is clearly surprised. “Take Seth? Yeah, of course.” He hustles over and gently unbuckles the car seat. Seth barely stirs when he’s picked up, just nestles into Todd’s arms like a little angel. I follow them inside with all the baby gear, dumping it on the dining table before a detour to the bathroom. Todd does know how to put Seth down for a nap. I don’t need to hover.

I don’t have to work, but I grab my tablet anyway and plop down on the couch. Todd does his own thing for a while, at least until he comes out to bother me while he puts his shoes on.

“Some time ago you told me why you stay, but…what if you took Seth with you?” are literally the first words he says since we walked inside.

I twist on the couch to look at him. He’s in his I-have-a-meeting clothes, which gives me funny feelings after that one time in the shower. Kinda takes the sting out of my are you stupid glare. “It's my house.”

“You have equity,” he points out. “Sell it or rent it out.”

“Tell me how I'm supposed to leave my wife.” That's not exactly what I mean. What I mean is for him to tell me how to leave Chrisette. Live wire Chrisette, intoxicating Chrisette, the first woman who really saw value in me, who invested in me as a human being, who married me, who bore my child. How do I turn my back on her? When she needs me the most, how do I walk away?

And when she’s gone, and Todd with her, like,…those early weeks of solo parenting were some of the hardest of my life. I can admit that I’m scared of doing that again.

Todd, however, shakes his head. “Be honest, Jesse. If you want monogamy, Chrisette has made it pretty clear that she’s never going to be that person.”

“Was she cheating on me the whole time?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Do you mean like, did Chrissy have another boyfriend, or did she just hook up with a random guy once in a blue moon?” Todd clarifies, though that tells me everything I didn’t want to know.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting monogamy,” I mutter bitterly.

“No, but if that’s so important to you then why not look for someone who feels the same way?”

I thought I had. “So if I’m gone you and Chrisette can fuck everyone you want, together. That’s real precious.”

Maybe because he’s determined to keep the good mood of sushi lunch going, Todd doesn’t match my anger. “For one, being polyamorous is not the same as pansexual. It’s how you prefer being in relationships versus whom you’re attracted to.”

“Bullshit.”

“Are you thinking about us?” He says it so casually that I flush. “I’ll admit that early on, I was most interested in knocking you off your high horse.”

“Ha.” 

He did, that’s for damn sure. More importantly, I don’t like hearing “us” come out of his mouth.

Todd sighs as he stands. “You know, I got held back in school. Twice.”

What does that have to do with anything?

He goes on. “The first time was kindergarten, which is not uncommon, but the second time I was in junior high.”

“What happened?” I ask in spite of myself.

“New foster family that wasn’t working out—some of them don’t give a shit as long as they get their stipend from the state.” Todd shrugs. “I got suspended for skipping, I stopped trying, I dunno. I think I’d been in survival mode with no coping mechanisms and it all just caught up to me. The only reason I even graduated high school is because of my mom.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I see you drowning, man. I want to help, but you’re determined to stay underwater.”

I can’t believe my ears. This motherfucker—

“That came out wrong,” Todd apologizes, giving me the old calm down hands. “What I meant is that I am trying really hard to change the way you and I relate to each other, and I wish you would let me.”

Whatever my face is telling him, Todd laughs a little. “We can at least be on the same team. Team Seth and Chrisette.”

“Okay,” I agree grouchily.

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Jesus. You might be the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

 “Oh, I’m stubborn? Me?” I gesture so wildly with my stylus that I nearly poke my eye out. “Todd, why are you here? You could have literally anyone you wanted, but you’re fucking with my marriage.”

He gives me a smarmy little grin. “Anyone I wanted, huh?”

“No, dude,” I groan. “I didn’t mean it like that, obviously. I’m saying that you’re calculating enough to, like, weasel your way into whatever relationship you want.”

“Maybe this is exactly what I want.”

“Bullshit.”

“Almost,” he says, looking sideways at me.

 Even across the room he feels too close. I lean away.

Todd smiles. “You couldn’t tell?” His tone is soft, warm, gentle. It gives me goosebumps.

“What are you talking about, dude?” I ask nervously. “You’re being fucking weird.”

Rolling his eyes, Todd walks out of the room, calling, “Sure, Jesse,” over his shoulder. 

October

It's well after midnight when I hear the front door open. Before I have the chance to roll over and check, Todd grumbles from the far side of the bed.

“The fuck is that?”

I sigh. “I'll go look.”

There has to be a word for the feeling of being completely shocked and immediately unsurprised. Of course it would be Chrisette with a strange man. Some college-aged dummy who is as drunk as my wife, struggles to unzip his pants while Chrisette tosses her shirt across the room. She sees me, giggles, waves a condom packet around, and goes back to removing her clothes. I head back to bed.

“Is it Chrissy?” Todd mumbles tiredly when I climb back in.

“And some guy. Looks like a frat boy,” I reply.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

I let out a sigh. “Nope. This is what it's like.”

“Sorry, man. Sorry.”

At that moment, at least, I completely believe him.

---

November

"I want Todd there."

My response is immediate. "Absolutely not." On the first date night we’ll have since Seth was born?

"I need him," Chrisette insists, yanking the fitted sheet over a corner of the mattress. "Just for when we get home. With you, I've had trouble letting go of all this heaviness and negativity, and that is preventing me from achieving orgasm."

Oh, come on. "How is Todd going to solve that problem?" I ask sarcastically, tossing her one side of the flat sheet. “Hypnosis?”

"He has naturally positive energy—"

I point at his side of the bed. "The Todd that I know? He does not."

"And," Chrisette finishes, "there hasn't been a time when we've had sex and I didn't come at least once. So even if he's just there to give encouragement, that'll be enough."

I put my hands up. “Hang on. Were you faking it with me? Am I total shit in bed?”

She folds her arms. “Don't make this about you, Jesse.”

“I'm half the equation here! Just tell me, please.”

“No, you're not shit, it's just…”

“Do I need to munch more on that sweet puss?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows to disguise how soul-crushing this conversation suddenly got. Thankfully, Chrisette laughs. 

“That’s never not what I’m saying,” she chuckles, “but it’s seriously a mental block. It’s not your fault, baby, but when we’re together the weight of our responsibilities really hampers my sex drive. And I want to be able to enjoy you.”

On the one hand, I’m confused about how bringing in Todd will help with that libido-sucking mental load she’s carrying. On the other hand, she called me baby and is offering me sex.

I frown, but agree. “For you, one time, and never again.”

Chrisette winds her arms around my waist. “My good little Grumpy Dimple Boy,” she sings, and kisses me. “And shave the beard. This is going to be really good for us. I promise.”

I’m too chickenshit to ask what she’s hoping it’ll do for me in particular. Or to ask Todd how he’s handling the whole thing. In fact, I manage to extra avoid him right until date night.

“Seth is getting a bath tonight,” Todd says as he walks in the living room. “I think he has broccoli in his hair.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

I don’t know why I’m so nervous to go out with the woman I married. Maybe because I can see my chin for the first time in a year and it’s weird.

“Is this tie-shirt combo okay?” I ask Todd worriedly. I’ve never been to the ballet before, but Chrisette wants to see it. There are a lot of opinions online about what to wear to the ballet, and none of it was helpful.

“It’s good. You look…” He scans me up and down and then gives me a pointed smile. “…edible.”

I flip him off. Todd snaps his teeth, which for some reason makes me laugh.

“You’re fuckin’ stupid sometimes,” I say.

“Sometimes you’re the best of us, Jesse.”

Just as I’m about to tell him to fuck off I realize that he’s being sincere. “Wait, what?”

Chrisette walks out of the hall at that moment and I have to catch my breath. If that dress were cut any lower I'd be able to see her belly button. It clings to every single curve on her body, the modest black doing nothing to hide the roundness of her breasts. Her hair is in some simple updo that shows off her graceful neck, her full lips are red, and her dark eyes are soft and welcoming. "Hot damn," I exhale, and she grins at me.

"You like?" she asks playfully, turning around so I can see the sparkly zipper that goes all the way down the back of her dress.

"I don't know if I can make it through dinner," I reply, and Chrisette laughs.

It’s like old times. The good times, when we had things to talk about that weren’t us, and funny stories that we’d saved until we could tell them to each other in person. When I would look at her and be so fucking grateful that she chose to spend even a second of her day with me.

We’re almost finished with dinner when a line of servers approaches our table with melodicas and tambourines. “What the hell?” I say under my breath to Chrisette. She bites her lip, trying and failing to hold back a mischievous grin. She’s pointing her phone at me…oh no.

“Happy birthday!” shouts our waitress, producing a plate full of Italian cream cake. The rest of the servers burst into song, the restaurant’s version of “Happy Birthday To You.” There’s a paper crown involved.

“What have you done?” I mouth at my wife, who is outright giggling at this point. My face is so hot you could fry a fucking egg on it.

The servers wrap up with a big hooray, and the entire fucking restaurant starts applauding. I'm going to have to leave a bigger tip than I planned.

“I wanted free cake,” Chrisette says with a shrug, dragging the plate towards her.

I knock her fork away with mine. “This cake is the product of my humiliation.” It tastes damn good, though.

“I told them they weren't going to see your ID because you don't drink. I made this happen,” she argues, and nabs a bite while I'm preoccupied with the heaven in my mouth.  

“We could have just ordered dessert.”

Chrisette shrugs cutely. “But…free cake.”

There’s a little whipped cream on her lip when I kiss her. “You’re fucking adorable,” I growl at her.

“So you’ve said,” she says with a grin.

We go to the ballet after. Maybe it’s the glass of wine she had with dinner, maybe it’s the tight pants on all the dude dancers, but Chrisette is handsy with me the whole time. She strokes my thigh, plays with my hand, runs her fingers over the back of my neck…I will go to the ballet every day with her if this is how she’s gonna behave.

She’s even bolder during the car ride home, tracing my cock through my pants until I have to beg her to let me concentrate. When I pull up to the house my erection starts to go down a little. I can’t believe I forgot that the exciting part about this whole night for Chrisette might be this threesome of her design.

Her fucking boyfriend is hanging out in the living room like he’s chaperoning us naughty kids. Todd smiles at Chrisette as we walk in. “How was it?”

“Hot,” she says, and kisses him. It stops me in my tracks. They’ve been so careful not to be all lovey dovey in front of me, except for that one time when they thought I was asleep after I had that panic attack. Or maybe he was careful and Chrisette went along with it? Because Todd seems a little uncomfortable for half a second.

Or maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see. I agreed to this. I agreed to all of it, I remind myself as Chrisette gets out a set of shot glasses and pulls the good vodka from the freezer. Holy shit, this is really happening. I join her in the kitchen and Todd leans on the bar, asking about dinner. Fuck fuck fuck. Chrisette describes the ballet in detail. I only remember her hands. My system is so overwhelmed that I don’t know if I’m excited or terrified.

Todd glances at me before asking, "What do you want, Chrissy?"

Chrisette hands him a shot glass. "Play nice," she instructs us.

Todd raises his shot to her and downs it. “You sure you don't want one of these, Babe? You look a little anxious.”

I say nothing. Of course I'm anxious. This is more nerve wracking than my wedding day. And I ended up getting fucked then, anyway.

Chrisette smacks her lips together and pours another drink. “One for my little piglet,” she declares, holding the glass to me. “We’ll take care of you.”

Todd puts his hand over the shot. “I was kidding; don't give me those cow eyes,” he teases me.

I give him a look that I hope says Help get me out of this, but either he doesn't understand or he doesn't care. Should I take the shot? No, I’m already worried about my performance. Has it really been a year since Chrisette and I had sex? Maybe even longer, since she wasn’t even up for it during that last month or so of pregnancy. The last thing I want to do is be compared to Todd in the sack and come in second place.

Chrisette’s soft lips on mine bring me back to the present. “You’re so tense, baby. Can you focus on me for a bit?”

“Always,” I say with a smile, because after all that teasing I still really, really want to fuck.

Chrisette slings back another shot, shuddering cutely at the burn. “Will you trust me?”

“Mm hm.” I glance at Todd, but he’s pouring yet another round. Anyway, with Chrissy’s soft breasts against me, I’m already getting more on board with whatever’s going on.

“Can you follow instructions, Babe?” she presses. “Are you going to try something new?”

I feel my eyes get really wide. “Uh…” Is she about to ask me to get fucked? I’m not an actor; if she really wants to see me and Todd together I don’t know how to pretend like it’s the first time.

Todd cuts in. “Be gentle, Chrissy.” He leans across the bar to touch my arm lightly. “Don’t worry, man. Team Chrisette.”

Team Chrisette. Right.

I let her lead me into the bedroom, a big part of me wanting to run screaming through the walls and the other part is like, Hooray, I’m gonna get my dick wet! Chrisette pushes me to sit on the bed, then whispers in Todd’s ear. He laughs and points her to the bathroom.

“What’s happening?”

Todd gestures toward the hallway. “Just a quick freshen up if she wants, you know, ass play.”

My eyes go wide. “She wants it?”

“When I asked what she wanted out of a threesome, it came up,” he says casually.

I can’t remember the last time I asked Chrisette what she liked in bed. She mostly just told me if I was doing something wrong, so I figured that was enough. Would things be different now if I had asked more? But also…

“Wait, you never told me to—” I shut my yap before I can finish my sentence, but Todd’s self-satisfied smile tells me he figured it out.

“You were pretty fresh out of the shower that time, right?” He cocks his head in a way that should be more off-putting. “You can join Chrissy if you want. We can make this real fun.”

“Shut up, Todd,” I say, but I don’t really mean it.

Chrisette sails back into the room in her robe, clearly a little tipsy, and drapes her arms around us both.

“I turned the noise machine up in Seth’s room. You ready for me?” she asks.

Todd says yes and I make some noncommittal noise. I’m freaking out again. There are so many possible ways we could have worked up to this. So many more questions I should have asked. It’s not like I haven’t seen this in porn, but the stuff I’ve watched is usually a woman getting spit roasted and the most that the guys do is, like, high five or something. I’m out of my depth. Again.

“I think Babe is short-circuiting,” Todd whispers loud enough that I’m obviously supposed to hear him.

I don’t glare at him because this is supposed to be a sexy time for everybody.

Bending to my level, Chrisette kisses me hard. “Undress me.”

Although I want to make short work of the robe, I peel it off slowly, placing kisses on Chrisette’s smooth skin. If she wants to be worshipped, feel like a woman, then I’ll do it.

“Holy shit.” The lingerie she was hiding under that dress…it’s sheer and black and lacy and crotchless…if I had known…

Chrisette giggles at me gaping at her. “Scoot back,” she says, and follows me farther onto the bed. She settles over my face, spreading her pussy lips. “Ooh, that’s it, baby,” she coos as I lick her. “Good little piglet.”

I can’t tell what Todd is doing, but I hear him ask where she wants him.

Chrisette pets my head.

“Jesse, Todd’s going to touch you some, okay? Nod yes.”

I do. God, my heart is beating so fast.

 “Todd, help Jesse take his clothes off.”

I wrap my arms around my wife’s thighs to hold her in place, determined to feast on her pussy and ignore Todd as much as possible. If tonight involves a cunnilingus contest, I’m not losing. But Todd’s straddling my legs, undoing my belt. Todd is pulling my slacks off, patting my hip so that I lift enough for him to get them over my ass. He removes my tie; I can hear him kissing Chrisette somewhere that makes her giggle. Todd is unbuttoning my shirt, running his hands over my chest, tweaking a nipple so that Christte squeaks when I almost bite her.

Chrisette rocks on my tongue, murmuring yes yes yes as I attack her pussy with a fury, determined that when she comes it’ll be my doing. I hear her say Todd’s name, and then his weight settles on me.

He didn’t have to lie on top of me to eat her ass. Unforced error. I wish my dick stayed soft. Actually, I can decide right now that the reason I’m hard is because my hot wife is sitting on my face. It has nothing to do with the man who’s pressing his cock against my stomach as he licks her hole, her taint, sometimes getting my chin and neck between his teeth.

Just as Chrisette’s thighs starts that telltale quiver she stops us. She directs Todd to lie on his back. Okay, so I lost making her come first. I’m still wearing my shirt and jacket, so I guess I’ll just shed that and sit over—

“Hold him for me,” Chrisette says, pulling me in for a kiss. Tasting herself on me. “Put Todd inside me. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, baby.” Don’t look too eager, I tell myself as I reach for Todd’s cock. He isn’t fully hard, but he’s close. So it only makes sense that I pump him a few times while Chrisette mounts him. It’s for her.

“Oh, shit that’s good,” she sighs as she sinks onto him. I could say yeah I know, but that would be insane. I’m going insane. 

Chrisette pulls me to her, holding me by the hair to kiss me as Todd bucks into her. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to touch her like this; since I’ve allowed myself to touch anyone, that her body feels brand new to me. She lets me kiss her lower, savoring her milky tits, her soft belly, and like—I know she’s pushing my boundaries when she guides my head down to where she and Todd are connected. We didn’t talk about what exactly I’d be okay with. I could pretend like it was scary.

“Look how big he is in my cunt, Jesse,” Chrisette says breathlessly, bouncing on Todd’s cock. “Taste it.”

So I stick out my tongue. Combined, they’re salty, tangy, and a little bitter. Chrisette rubs her clit against my nose as I slurp her juices.

“Do you want me to keep him hard, Chrissy?” Todd asks, slowing down.

“Yeah, you want to?” she replies, sounding a little surprised.

He bunches a pillow behind his head and grins that cocky grin that usually makes my blood boil. “Get yours, baby. I’ll keep him warm for you.”

I sit all the way up, but Chrisette is so aroused that I swallow whatever protest I had. She brushes her thumb over my cheek. “Let him, Jesse. Stop thinking so much.”

“That’s a big ask,” I grumble, making her giggle, but I obey the first part. Todd beckons me towards his head, and I kneel to watch him, in front of my wife and God and everybody, put his mouth on my hard dick.

“Whoa,” Chrisette says, and Todd pulls off to lick his lips at her.

“You didn’t want to do it,” he teases. “Ride my dick until you come. Jesse, help her.”

I try, I really do, but Todd’s mouth is a fucking vacuum. I keep my hands busy on Chrisette, gently flicking her nipples as she grinds on the cock beneath her. Todd wraps his arm around my thigh; he grabs my ass to hold me in place. Fuck, don’t think about it. She’s so beautiful. I can focus on that, how Chrisette tosses her head when she hits a good angle, instead of Todd’s tongue digging into my cockslit.

It feels like moments until my wife’s voice rises dangerously.

“Close, baby?” I manage to ask, and she nods desperately.

Todd grabs my hand and spits on my fingers, and I use his saliva to rub Chrissette’s clit so fast that my arm burns. She comes, screaming through clenched teeth, her juices slicking my hand, her knees clamping together as her pelvis bucks.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Chrisette gasps, falling off of Todd. “Holy fuck.”

He rolls with her and within a few powerful thrusts, finishes inside her.

Inside me are two wolves. One wolf is mad that he just watched another guy shoot inside his wife. The other wolf is horny as hell. Didn’t Chrisette tell me to quit thinking so much? 

I push Todd out of the way to flip Chrisette onto her stomach and slide into her wet core.

“Jesus Christ, Babe,” Todd kinda laughs, but this is something that I know without him telling me. Chrisette can come a couple times in a row as long as I don’t let up. I reach around to her clit, meeting her fingers there.

Chrisette buries her face in the pillows as I set a relentless pace. She’s so hot, so slick, and I swear it doesn’t matter that some of Todd’s cum squelches around the base of my cock. I have to fucking come. 

Todd curls his fingers into my hair and pulls my head back. Everybody’s grabbing my hair tonight. “I’m gonna fucking shave myself bald, swear to fucking god,” I say right before his mouth is on mine, and this is fine because Chrisette can’t see it, and maybe she can’t even hear it because she’s screaming, finally screaming my name.

“Come on, Jesse,” he whispers in my ear. His voice slithers into my brain. “Fuck her like you mean it. I know you can.” He presses his groin, still sticky with his and Chrisette’s fluids, against my ass.

“Fuck off,” I say automatically, but my hips seem to be on overdrive. 

Todd holds me by the throat, sucking my tongue, biting my jaw, licking my neck. I feel it in waves that crash through my body—they travel from Todd’s mouth to my cock to my toes and back again. His other hand releases my hair to scratch from my shoulders to my buttocks and back again, leaving trails of fire on my skin. I feel conductive, like Chrisette can feel his touch through me.

“Fuck yes,” I hear myself say when Todd reaches under me to feel my balls as they slap against Chrisette pussy. I’m not disappointed that he stops there. I’m not. 

“Todd.” Chrisette twists back to see us and I shove Todd away. She reaches back for him, pleading, “Come here, come here,” and Todd lets her pull him down to lie beside her. He encourages her to turn over. I watch their tongues entwine; he keeps his eyes on me as I slide back into her.

“You like that?” Todd asks my wife, brushing his fingers over her hard nipples, down to her pussy—I jerk when his fingertips graze my shaft in the process—back up again. “You like having Jesse slipping through my cum?”

“Fuck,” Chrisette moans, clenching around me.

I shouldn’t like this as much as I do.

He's focused on her, but he's touching me, too. I want him to leave. I need him to stay so I can fucking finish. Todd scoots to kind of cradle her head while she holds onto his dick. “What do you want, Chrissy?” he murmurs, and I slow down to hear.

“I want to come while you kiss me,” she whispers, and I almost lose my erection thinking about when she used to look at me like that.

“Do you want me inside you?” Todd asks just as quietly. I want to punch him in the back of the neck.

But Chrisette shakes her head no. “I want you to kiss me while Jesse fucks me.”

Todd smiles at her. “Then tell him. Tell him to fuck you.”

Chrisette giggles a little and shakes her head again.

“Do it,” Todd encourages my wife as he runs his free hand over her breasts. “Say, ‘Fuck me, Jesse.’”

They both look at me as if they could have forgotten that my cock has been moving inside Chrisette this whole time. 

“Fuck me,” Chrisette says.

“Say his name.” Todd stares straight at my face. “Look at him. Tell him what you need.”

“Fuck me, Jesse,” she says.

What the hell have I been doing here with my dick in you? I want to ask. But I say, “Anything for you, baby,” and go right back to my original pace. 

“Harder,” Todd instructs. He’s already boning up again.

Now Chrisette hooks her heels behind my thighs and pulls me down until I can kiss her, too. I'm getting there, but it’s not as easy with Todd there. Now it feels performative, forced, like Chrisette is determined that this is gonna work and we’re all gonna jizz buckets, so we’re just trying to get that done for her. But I keep my thumb on her clit, pistoning my hips so hard our bodies slap together. It’s been a year, but I can do this. I can still make her come. The lingerie gives me something to hold onto, and I use it as an anchor to hold my wife in place so I can fuck her.

Todd is licking and sucking Chrisette’s breasts, belly, thighs; does she notice when turns his head and bites me? Fucking smug grin on his face when I grunt. We keep making eye contact, so when he says, “Come on, baby,” I’m not sure who he’s talking to. 

I’m out of my mind, fucking Chrisette deep in long strokes that rock the bed. Her hands are fisted into the sheets. Todd pulls her up to look at my cock pistoning in and out of her, murmuring in her ear about how much she’s gonna come.

“Yes, baby please!” Chrisette cries, so to make sure this cum is a big one I press my palm into her pelvis. Her whole body stiffens as she throws her head back, keening “Yes yes yes yes!” I didn’t think I was that close, but Todd slips his hand around to my ass and dammit, he’s doing too much, his fingers are everywhere, fuck, I’m coming, shooting deep into Chrisette’s fluttering vagina.

I groan, collapsing for a moment onto my wife and she lets me hold her. I brush the hair that came undone away from her forehead. “You’re so sexy,” I tell her, and she smiles at me before looking at Todd.

He’s stretched out beside us, keeping his hands to himself for once, even if he is hard as fuck.

"You didn't come," Chrisette says to Todd.

"It'll go down," I comment.

"Enjoy your afterglow," Todd replies, kissing her cheek. Chrisette hangs onto him and I stay where I am, waiting for her to tell us how this next part is supposed to go.

“Sit up there; I’ll finish you,” she tells him, wriggling out from under me.

I should be grateful that she doesn’t make me join her, but I’m instantly jealous. Better to take myself out of the equation than be grumpy—oh, and the sober one. Almost forgot. 

"I'll, uh, go shower," I say awkwardly, but Chrisette pulls me back.

"Stay here," she commands. “Sit right here and watch.”

Fine. This is, after all, Chrisette's Ultimate Fantasy Night or whatever. I wouldn't have guessed that it ended with her giving Todd a blowjob while I hang out in the vicinity, but I'm not in her head. What the fuck do I know about anything, anymore?

Todd leans back and lets Chrisette crawl between his legs. His right hand strokes my thigh as she bobs on him, her black hair brushing his groin. 

Chrisette could make anything look sexy; Todd’s cock is huge in her mouth, stretching her still-pink lips into a plump O.

“Fuck,” he repeats quietly. “Fuck.” The only time I ever heard him sound that soft was—oh no, don’t start thinking about it—my wedding night.

Todd’s abdomen works violently and his arm suddenly wraps around my neck to pull me close. I grip the sheets more tightly, wishing I could look away. My wifes bobs harder on his cock, slurping noisily.

Since Todd won't warn her, I do. “He’s about to come,” I tell Chrisette. She removes her mouth from his cockhead with a loud pop, jerking his shaft vigorously. I think she's trying to watch his face, but it's buried in my neck. Instead Chrisette and I hold eye contact while Todd groans in release. The sound crawls down my spine.

“Holy…shit,” he moans into my collarbone.  His chest heaves as he comes down. The pale specks on his stomach ripple as he breaths. Focus somewhere else.

Chrisette is looking at me weird, so I pull her up between us.

“Do you want more?” I ask, because I could probably go again and I’m feeling competitive that Todd came last.

“No, I need to pee and then pump,” she says, but she doesn’t move.

“Did you have fun?” Todd follows up.

She snuggles into him. “Mm hm.”

“Good.” He kisses the top of her head; flicks his eyes up at me—I don’t know what he’s thinking.

I stroke Chrisette’s arm. “Then we all need to clean up, baby. I’ll change the sheets before you’re done pumping, okay?”

“Fine,” she yawns, clambering shakily off the bed. “If I’m not back before you’re done, just leave room on the side, okay?”

That would put Todd in the middle. Is Chrisette mad at me?

 

Seth sometimes laughs in his sleep. I stroke his cheek lightly, the supple skin soft under my fingertips. Fatherhood does amazing things to the heart; I didn't know that mine was expandable until this little guy came wailing into my life.

I hear the toilet flush; in a moment of immature self-pity I think, I won't be missed. Chrisette would probably prefer that I sleep on the couch. Seth giggles again, his lips stretched even while his eyes are closed, tongue pressed tight against the roof of his mouth. I'd have to be a hard bastard to keep frowning in the middle of that.

I can tell that Todd is at the door because he takes up more air than anybody else.

"What are you doing?" he whispers, coming to stand by my side at the crib. In the dim light I can tell he put on a t-shirt and pajama pants.

I point at the traces of a smile still on Seth's sleeping face. "His dreams are hilarious."

Todd chuckles quietly, settling his elbows on the crib railing. "He doesn't wake himself up?"

Shaking my head, I whisper back, "Not usually."

Seth does it again, this time kicking his chubby legs in his sleep sack. Todd laughs soundlessly, and I grin.

"That is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life," Todd says. He straightens up and touches my arm. "Come back to bed."

It's so smooth, so casual, so natural that I don't even think. I follow Todd's broad shoulders down the hall and slide under the covers next to him, back to back. I don't move in my sleep, so it doesn't even bother me that I have twenty percent less room than usual.