7 Years Bad Sex

by Nicky Wells

  ‘Errr. Yes, I guess so.’

  ‘I’ll tell you, Myles.’ Alex waved his can of beer above his head as he spoke. ‘Absolutely bugger all.’ He drank deeply and burped.

  ‘I’m lost.’ Myles frowned. ‘If nothing happened, then why you are you here pissed as a fart?’

  ‘You’re not listening,’ Alex whined. ‘Nobody ever listens to me. What I mean is, nothing happened down there. Again!’ He gestured for emphasis and tipped the remains of his beer over his crotch. ‘Bugger.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Myles nodded. ‘You guys are still struggling.’

  ‘Struggling?’ Alex erupted into bitter laughter. He leaned into Myles until he could see the little hairs on his friend’s ear. ‘It’s a sodding nightmare. We had sex for three hours, and we fell asleep before we got to finish it properly.’

  ‘Three hours, wow.’ Myles grinned. ‘That’s pretty good going.’

  ‘Yeah, but I didn’t get no satisfaction!’ Alex shouted, anger boiling up again. ‘I never do with her. And she doesn’t give a damn. She said it was nice, what we did. NICE!’

  ‘Blimey, calm down.’ Myles reached out a hand and patted Alex’s back awkwardly. ‘She was probably trying to reassure you.’

  ‘Ha!’ Alex spat. ‘She can reassure herself. I’m outta there. I’m done. We’re so totally frigging fucked, there’s no going forward.’ His hands slid into his pocket and found the ring that he had intended to give Casey as a wedding re-enactment present. It was an eternity ring meant to signify his undying love and devotion. Good job he hadn’t got round to giving it to her because he had made a serious miscalculation on the ‘ever after’ front.

  Myles stared at Alex intently. ‘You didn’t walk out on Casey, did you?’

  ‘I sure did.’ Alex withdrew his hand from his pocket. Unsteadily, he got to his feet and saluted. ‘Yessirree. I walked out and never looked back.’

  Myles stood too. ‘You mean, you left her down in Cornwall?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘How the heck is she meant to get back, you moron?’

  ‘Don’t moron me,’ Alex admonished before sinking drunkenly back onto the sofa. ‘I left her the car, didn’t I? Because I’m such a nice guy.’

  ‘If you left her the car, then how did you get here?’ Myles repeated his original question. Alex burped and lurched sideways on the sofa.

  ‘First, I walked. Then, I got a ride on a tractor. That took me to some godforsaken place where I waited for a bus, and then another bus, and another one, and then I got to Plymouth. I was gonna take the train, but I caught a lift on a fish lorry.’

  ‘A fish lorry?’

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘Okay, I won’t. But what now? You and Casey are splitting up?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Alex closed his eyes. If only he could make the whole sorry thing go away. ‘Yes. We are. What’s the point? We can’t have a normal relationship. We can’t have kids—’

  ‘That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? You don’t know that yet.’

  ‘It’s been seven months!’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Myles, I want to see you go without proper sex for seven months, and then we’ll talk again.’

  ‘So let’s talk.’ Myles lifted his shoulders. ‘I haven’t had sex since I split with Carol.’

  Alex snorted beer through his nose. ‘You what? You—are—kidding me. That’s two years ago!’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You haven’t had sex for two years?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Shut the back door. You’re shittin’ me.’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘What about all the women you’re always hanging out with? Your bender weekends in Brighton?’

  Myles shook his head.

  ‘You’re a friggin’ rock star, for crying out loud; you’ve got girls throwing their knickers at you on stage.’ Alex couldn’t believe what his friend was telling him.

  ‘That doesn’t mean I’ve got to sleep with them.’

  ‘But—but you’re always off with some floozy or other.’

  ‘Exactly. Floozies. I’m past shagging floozies. So we make out a little, for the fun of it, and then I go home. Alone.’

  ‘You make out? What, like snogging?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘And that’s it?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘You seriously haven’t had sex since Carol?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Oh my gosh. How do you cope?’

  Myles guffawed and made a rude gesture. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why are you living like a monk?’

  ‘Because…’ Myles turned pink. ‘Because I’m tired of shagging the wrong woman, and because I’m not as lucky as you and Casey. One day I’ll find the right woman. I hope.’

  ‘You think Casey and I are lucky?’

  ‘Hey man, you guys are the dream couple.’

  ‘Ha.’ Alex shook his head. ‘Goes to prove that you never can tell.’

  ‘No, you cannot,’ Myles said quietly and turned a little pinker still. Alex thought it was a little strange, although he couldn’t quite work out why. But his stupefaction at Myles’s unexpected confession ended when Myles offered him relationship advice. ‘So you see, seven months is nothing. I think you should stick it out.’

  ‘No. Never. I’m done. And please don’t stick your nose into things that don’t concern you.’

  Myles recoiled like Alex had slapped him. He gazed at his friend with wide eyes. Eventually, he replied in a measured tone, ‘Point taken. I’ll keep my opinion to myself, even though it does concern me. Literally. Because how do you think Blue Heart is going to work if you two create an effing rift down the middle?’

  Blue Heart. Damn it, Alex hadn’t even given the band a second thought. It would be a nightmare keeping going now that he and Casey had fallen apart. At the same time, Casey was the best lead singer they had ever had, and they had contracts. She would have to stay. That would be awkward, to put it mildly.

  ‘We’re professionals,’ he said out loud. ‘It won’t be a problem.’

  Myles raised his eyebrows. ‘You sure about that?’

  ‘Back off. Of course I’m sure. I’m ending my marriage, not breaking up the band.’

  ‘Can you hear yourself?’ Myles flared up. ‘You’re ending your marriage, just like that? That’s a big deal. That’s not like throwing away a used tissue or waving goodbye to a bimbo. Are you bloody insane?’

  Alex sat back in astonishment. What had come over his friend? Bad boy Myles, without an ounce of tact or emotional intelligence, suddenly taking the high ground was about as likely as the proverbial pigs taking flight.

  ‘Myles, eff off. It’s none of your business. This whole wedding was a mistake.’

  ‘No, it bloody wasn’t, and you know it. I was there. I saw the love. You’ve simply got to work it out.’

  ‘Myles! Shut up!’ Alex was seriously rattled. ‘I came here for support and a place to crash, not for a lecture. You’re supposed to be my best friend.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Myles looked contrite. ‘I just—it’s so unbelievable. But you’re right. It’s none of my business. Sorry. And of course you can crash here for as long as you want.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Alex exhaled sharply. ‘I was beginning to think you had a thing for Casey or something.’

  ‘Me?’ Myles gave a hollow laugh. He rose abruptly and started picking up discarded beer cans. ‘Now I know you’re drunk. Me? A thing for Casey?’ He dumped the cans in a heap on the table and turned back to Alex. His ears were bright red, and there was a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. His voice wobbled ever so slightly when he spoke, but Alex put that down to too much alcohol.

  ‘If I had a thing for Casey, surely I ought to be jumping for joy if you guys were breaking up, right?’

  ‘Err… Yeah. I guess.’ Alex frowned. Something wasn’t right there, but Myles’s reasoning seemed to make sense.
‘I was only kidding.’

  ‘Of course you were. And I think you ought to stop drinking and get some sleep.’

  Alex shook his head. ‘Myles, Myles, Myles. What happened to you? You’re coming across all grown up and sensible all of a sudden.’

  Myles sighed. ‘One of us has to be. And seeing as that you’ve taken leave of your senses, I’ll be the responsible one for a change. You know where everything is. Sort yourself out, and we’ll see how you feel in the morning.’

  ‘All right then, dad. If you say so.’ Alex knew he was behaving like a petulant teenager, but he couldn’t help it. Reasonable Myles had wrong-footed him somehow, and he didn’t like that feeling one bit. But his resolve was iron. His marriage was over. He needed to get out.

  ~Casey~

  ‘Divorce? What do you mean, he wants a divorce? He can’t divorce you!’

  Sasha’s face was the picture of disbelief. Casey put her head on Sasha’s kitchen counter and sobbed. ‘That’s what he said,’ she mumbled through her tears. ‘In his text message. It’s not like we’ve spoken since Cornwall.’

  Sasha sighed deeply and busied herself with the kettle and some tea bags. ‘You guys. I’m stunned. How did this happen?’

  ‘You know how this happened. Not having sex proved too much for Alex. We’ve been over this.’

  ‘We have.’ Sasha frowned. ‘We have indeed. Every day for three weeks. And I don’t mind, really, I don’t. It’s a big deal, and it needs talking through. However, I still don’t understand how you two went from a gung-ho “we’ll get through this” approach to this.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Casey grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.

  She had been staying at Sasha’s since that terrible Sunday night. She had hoped that Alex would go to their house eventually, and that finding it empty would shock him enough to search for her. It hadn’t.

  After a week of tearful waiting in Sasha’s spare room, Casey had finally received a text that required her to make contact with Alex—but it had from Liza, calling her to band practice. Blue Heart had to go on, quite literally. They would be touring in the New Year, and they needed to put a show together.

  Casey had taken herself to the first rehearsal glammed up and with a beaming smile, ready to defy the world. She wasn’t going to let on how hurt she was. Myles and Liza had behaved as normal, joking around and bickering over lyrics, beats, and vocals with her.

  Alex had ignored her that first time. At the second rehearsal, he had attempted conversation, presumably because Myles had put him straight. Casey wasn’t entirely sure of this, but Liza had let slip that Myles was seriously pissed off with Alex’s attitude. The band had to come first.

  After that, the four of them had lurched into an uneasy but workable routine of keeping the band going despite the gaping hole that was Alex and Casey’s failed relationship. Casey was thankful that, as lead singer, she was at the front of the stage. Alex constantly had to stare at her back, and she did her best to make her rear view as alluring as possible in tight-fitting, show-off jeans. She was still hoping that this whole nightmare would go away, that Alex would wake up and realise that he still loved her.

  And now this:

  It’s over. Let’s talk divorce. Meet ASAP. Alex.

  Divorce. The D-word. Casey grew hot and cold when she remembered that time she had flung this word into the world carelessly, almost defiantly, as if facing the worst would mean it wouldn’t happen. Sasha didn’t know about this, of course, and Liza had never told anyone, but Casey remembered.

  Yet she didn’t want a divorce. She wanted her husband back.

  ‘He can’t divorce you,’ Sasha repeated. She placed a mug of steaming tea in front of Casey and sat down next to her. Casey leaned toward her friend gratefully, but Sasha’s presence didn’t ease the trauma.

  ‘He can, and he will. You know what he’s like when he’s got an idea in his head.’

  Sasha shook her head. ‘Listen to me. He can’t divorce you. You cannot legally get divorced in the UK within the first year of marriage.’

  ‘You can’t?’ Casey echoed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. It’s my job. Well, not my job exactly now, but I know all about divorce.’

  ‘How silly of me. Of course you do.’ Casey wiped her eyes and gulped down a mouthful of tea—hot, sweet, and milky, like the doctor ordered. It was ridiculous how soothing it was. She gathered her thoughts. ‘So he’s barking up the wrong tree?’

  ‘Entirely. You cannot get divorced.’

  ‘But if he wants to separate…?’

  ‘He can ask to separate until your anniversary and then file for divorce. But he can’t make it legal. Unless…’

  ‘Unless what?’ Casey’s heart nearly stopped. It was bad news if Sasha knew of an ‘unless’.

  ‘Hm.’ Sasha scratched her head. ‘The only way to get out of a marriage before the one-year anniversary is an annulment.’

  ‘Annulment?’ Casey repeated flatly. ‘I’ve heard of that. Isn’t that when you’ve not…’ Her eyes widened. ‘Oh my gosh!’

  Sasha nodded. ‘Exactly. You can annul a marriage if it hasn’t been consummated.’

  ‘Consummated.’ Casey shook her head. ‘What exactly does that mean?’

  Sasha waggled her head. ‘It can be a contentious issue. Obviously, if you haven’t had any physical relations at all, then you haven’t consummated. But if you’ve had intercourse, it gets tricky.’

  ‘But we haven’t!’ Casey shouted in fear. ‘Well, not properly. Only two or three times, but it didn’t—you know—end on a high note. And twice with chemical assistance, but those were… well, horrible.’

  ‘The law is a bit fuzzy here. If Alex wanted to go for annulment, he’d probably have to distort the facts. Or lie, in other words. If he confesses that you guys had intercourse with’—Sasha coughed but ploughed on—‘erection and penetration, then he wouldn’t get his annulment.’

  ‘It sounds so horrible and sordid when you put it like that.’

  ‘I know.’ Sasha pulled a face. ‘These things are never pretty. Let’s hope he doesn’t hit on the annulment idea. Meanwhile, ignore his text. Let him go to a solicitor and find out for himself.’

  ‘But what about—you know? We haven’t—we couldn’t even make babies the way we’ve “consummated” so far. Surely that doesn’t count?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Sasha lifted her shoulders. ‘Orgasm is optional as far as consummation is concerned.’

  ‘Orgasm is optional?’ Suddenly Casey bellowed with laughter. ‘Really? That’s hysterical! Who came up with that ruling?’

  ‘I’d have to look it up.’ Sasha’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m sure it’s documented somewhere.’

  ‘That’s nuts.’ Casey sipped at her tea again, serious once more. ‘But Sasha, what if he’s right? What if we do need to end this relationship?’

  Sasha frowned. ‘What do you mean? I thought you were heartbroken?’

  Casey sighed. ‘I am. I love Alex, and I don’t want our marriage to end. But I do want children. How am I going to conceive if…’

  ‘… if he doesn’t deliver the swimmers?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  The women digested this conundrum in silence.

  ‘You know, there are other ways,’ Sasha suddenly giggled. ‘I have one right here, look.’ She went to rummage in a kitchen drawer and retrieved an implement.

  ‘Eurgh!’ Casey nearly fell off her bar stool. ‘What is that?’

  ‘A turkey baster.’

  ‘A turkey baster? Seriously?’

  Sasha nodded.

  ‘I am not conceiving my child with the help of a turkey baster,’ Casey admonished her.

  ‘You sure?’ Sasha was overcome by the giggles and made suggestive movements with the makeshift impregnation device. ‘Think of the possibilities! It’s nice and big!’

  ‘Sasha!’ Casey pretended to be shocked. ‘Have you spiked this tea with something?’ She took another sip. ‘You have, ha
ven’t you? I’m sure I can taste a tang of brandy!’

  ‘Guilty as charged,’ Sasha chortled. ‘It is nine o’clock at night, though. We’re allowed a little drinkie. Plus, it’s purely medicinal.’

  Casey tried to hold back the laughter. ‘I think you must have doubled up on your measures. I’ve never seen you suggest action with a turkey baster before.’ She stopped and narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do you own one in the first place? You hate turkey!’

  ‘That, my friend, is for me to know and for you not to find out,’ Sasha teased. ‘I’ll leave that to your dirty and overactive imagination.’ She returned the implement to its rightful resting place and rejoined Casey at the counter.

  ‘Joking apart, there are other ways, you know.’

  ‘I know. But that’s not the point, is it?’

  ‘What is the point?’

  Casey let out a shuddery breath. ‘I’m beginning to think that I don’t know anymore. But Alex is right in some ways. Something’s got to give, especially if it’s making him so unhappy.’

  Sasha narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re playing the old “if you love someone, set them free” card?’

  ‘Maybe. Maybe we both need to be set free. Honestly, between you and me: I’ve been beginning to dread sex. It’s been so awful. The build-up, the expectation, and the invariable disappointment on one or both sides. It’s corrosive.’

  ‘But marriage is about more than sex. Or so I’m told. Of course, I wouldn’t know. I’m turning into a thirty-year-old spinster soon.’ Sasha smiled ruefully.

  Casey experienced a sharp pang of sympathy for her friend. Here she was, bemoaning the possible end of her—albeit brief—marriage, and there was Sasha, forever on the hunt for Mr Right and probably bleeding with worry inside.

  ‘Hey, sorry, let’s not go there,’ Sasha quickly added before Casey could say something. ‘I’m all right. Really.’

  Casey inclined her head and let the matter go. Instead, she picked up on the conversation from before. ‘Marriage is about more than sex. But a marriage without sex… That’s like sushi without the rice.’

  ‘Wow. That’s profound.’ Sasha giggled and clapped her hand in front her mouth. ‘Sorry, ignore me. That’s my double measure of brandy giggling.’