Just One Orgasm!

The dining room felt unusually quiet.

Morning sunlight spilled through the lace curtains above the window, warming the wooden table where breakfast had already been laid out.

Toast sat inside a woven basket, and a kettle of tea rested on a coaster in the middle, beside scrambled eggs, sliced fruit, and a plate of buttered bread.

Emilia sat beside Adrian.

Across from them, her mother poured tea into three cups. The soft clink of porcelain filled the silence.

"Milk?" she asked, looking toward Adrian.

"Thank you."

She handed him the little jug.

"Sugar?"

"One."

She nodded, stirring the tea before sliding the cup toward him.

Adrian accepted it politely. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome."

Silence returned to the dining table.

Emilia quietly buttered another slice of bread. Her mother looked at her, then at Adrian. Then back at Emilia again.

Emilia pretended not to notice.

She took a bite of her toast instead.

Her mother reached for the fruit bowl. She faced Adrian. "Would you like some watermelon?"

"Yes, please," Adrian answered.

She placed two slices onto his plate.

A few seconds later, her eyes wandered back to the two of them.

Emilia sighed inwardly.

She knew that look.

"So..." her mother began casually.

Emilia immediately became suspicious.

"I’ve never asked."

"Asked what?" Emilia asked, swallowing.

"How you two met."

Emilia nearly choked on her tea. She coughed lightly into her fist.

Adrian glanced at her sideways, and reached for the glass of water beside her before she even asked.

She accepted it with a quiet, "Thank you."

Her mother watched the exchange. One eyebrow lifted.

Adrian calmly buttered another slice of toast.

Her mother’s eyes shifted to Emilia. "Emilia?"

"We can talk later, Mum."

Her mother let out a suspicious hum, and nodded in agreement. Breakfast continued. However, her mother asked Adrian about work.

She asked how long he’d been teaching, and he answered. Emilia chewed, knowing he wasn’t telling the truth when he said five years.

Every conversation somehow ended with her eyes drifting back to Emilia.

By the time Emilia finished half her breakfast, she was convinced her mother had looked between them at least forty times.

Finally, her mother set down her teacup.

"Emilia."

"Mum?"

"Come and help me in the kitchen."

Emilia froze. "Now?"

"Yes."

"There are only three plates."

"I know."

"You don’t need help."

"I do."

Adrian quietly hid a smile behind his teacup, yet his expression remained perfectly composed. Only the faintest amusement lingered in his eyes.

Emilia sighed. "Okay."

She stood.

Her mother was already walking toward the kitchen. The moment they disappeared around the corner, her mother folded both arms.

Emilia knew that stance. "Mum."

"What are you doing?"

Emilia blinked. "What?"

"With your professor." She went straight to the point.

Emilia rubbed her forehead.

Her mother waited patiently. When Emilia said nothing, she went on. "He has slept here twice."

"Mum—"

"In your room." She gestured towards the staircase.

"Mum..."

"Emilia." There wasn’t an accusation in her voice, only concern. Gentle concern. The kind that made lying impossible.

Emilia leaned back against the kitchen counter. She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again.

"It happened..." She sniffed softly. "...by accident."

Her mother didn’t interrupt.

"The first night..." Emilia looked down at the tiled floor. "...was the night Noah and I ended things."

She swallowed.

"I couldn’t really think straight."

Her mother remained silent.

"So... I went to a bar, and I met him."

Her mother nodded slowly.

"And yesterday..." A tiny smile appeared despite herself. "...he climbed through my bedroom window."

Her mother’s eyebrows rose.

Emilia covered her face. "I know how ridiculous it sounds."

Her mother’s expression softened again. "Emilia."

She lowered her hands.

"Is there... something between you two?"

Now, the silence stretched between them. Long enough to answer the question before Emilia ever spoke.

Finally, she nodded once.

"Yes."

Her mother’s shoulders rose with a slow breath. "I see."

Emilia lifted both hands as a declaration of innocence. "It isn’t what you think."

"What do I think?"

Emilia hesitated. Then quietly admitted, "It’s temporary."

Her mother frowned. "Temporary?"

Emilia nodded. "When the semester ends."

"Why?"

"Because it has to."

Her mother searched her daughter’s face. "You’ve already decided that?"

Emilia gave a tiny shrug. "He works at my university." She laughed without humor. "I’m on scholarship. Our lives don’t exactly fit together."

"So you’re ending something before it’s even had the chance to begin?"

Emilia looked away.

"I think..." She searched for the words. "...it’s better that way."

Her mother was quiet for several seconds, then she stepped closer. "Can I tell you something?"

Emilia nodded.

Her mother smiled gently. "Love is strange."

Emilia made a face. "No one said anything about love, Mum. Noah is already enough."

Her mother ignored her, and went on with her words as if Emilia hadn’t spoken. "It doesn’t always arrive at the right time."

She tucked a loose strand of Emilia’s hair behind her ear.

"Sometimes it arrives wearing the wrong age... the wrong job... the wrong circumstances."

She paused lightly.

"And people spend so much time asking whether they’re allowed to feel it..." She smiled sadly. "...that they forget to ask the only question that really matters."

Emilia looked up. "What question?"

Her mother’s eyes warmed. "Does he make you feel safe?"

The kitchen became very still.

Emilia didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

Her mother saw it in her face. A knowing smile appeared. "He does."

Emilia’s throat tightened in a good way. "Yes."

Her mother reached for both of her hands. "The world will always have an opinion about who you love." She squeezed gently. "But they don’t have to wake up beside that person every morning."

She took in a soft breath, and added. "You do."

Emilia swallowed hard.

"So don’t stay with someone because you’re afraid they’ll leave..." Her mother brushed away the tiny tear gathering beneath Emilia’s eye. "And don’t leave someone because you’re afraid people will talk."

The words settled deep inside Emilia’s chest.

She leaned forward without thinking.

Her mother immediately wrapped her arms around her.

"My baby."

"I don’t know what I’m doing, Mum."

"You don’t have to."

"What if this hurts?"

Her mother smiled against her hair. "It probably will."

Emilia laughed through the tears. "That’s not very comforting."

"No." Her mother kissed the side of her head. "But it’s honest." She pulled back just enough to look into Emilia’s eyes. "Just promise me something."

"What?"

"If you ever discover he stops treating you with kindness..." Her voice became firm. "...walk away. Don’t doubt yourself."

Emilia nodded.

"But if he keeps choosing you..." A smile returned. "...don’t let fear make the decision for you."

Emilia closed her eyes briefly. "Okay, Mum."

Her mother smiled. "Now." She wiped beneath Emilia’s eyes with her thumb. "We’ve been in this kitchen long enough."

Emilia laughed. "He’s probably wondering."

Her mother waved her hand with a small laugh. "Oh, he knows we’re talking about him."

They both laughed.

"Mum."

"Yes, baby."

Emilia bit her lower lip. "Do you still have your morning after pills?"

Her mother gave her a stern look, then ran her fingers through her hair. "I do. When we’re done, check my wardrobe."

Emilia nodded.

Together, they walked back toward the dining room.

Adrian looked up the moment they entered.

His gaze instinctively found Emilia first.

She gave him a small smile. He returned it almost imperceptibly. Then he looked toward her mother.

He stood from his chair.

"If you permit me..." His voice was calm and courteous. "...I’d love to take her somewhere."

Emilia blinked. She turned to him in surprise. "Where, Adrian?"

A quiet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You said..." His eyes held hers. "...you didn’t want your birthday to be over yet."

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