Three's a Crowd

I glanced around the café and breathed in the warm, rich fragrances of the various coffee concoctions the baristas were bringing to life. It was always pleasant to get out amongst strangers and show off the fact that I was in a relationship. Here I was, a regular guy with a perfectly normal relationship; it was a reality that I still couldn't quite believe was the case, after a lifetime of loneliness and rejection. I savoured these moments, and felt like I was glowing in my seat.

As I took a slurp of my coffee, it was as if it suddenly tasted better than it ever had before in my life. Why? Across the table, my girlfriend, Barbara, was looking radiant as ever, and that was enough to make me tingle all over. Her golden blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, her enticing pale skin, with its ever-present pinkish tint holding my attention a constant prisoner. Her deep blue eyes hovered over me, seemingly considering various thoughts while she looked me over and shyly smiled. She may have been a few years older than me, but it didn't matter, she was a ray of sunshine in my eyes, and I glanced around the café at the other occupants, wondering if they were jealous and impressed with the girl I had managed to win the heart of.

We'd met on a dating application, one that I had been using for years and had never had much luck with. I'd have the odd match and stifled conversation, but that never seemed to lead anywhere. I'd usually overcompensate with the compliments, until eventually the girl would lose interest and make it clear that they didn't want to date. That was until I'd matched with Barbara, and suddenly here was this girl that seemed to possess all the attributes I was looking for; on top of that: she actually liked me! She was ten years older, though while in her late-thirties, she still looked good for her age and had told me she kind of a laid-back free spirit approach to life through her twenties. She had a good career, and was renting a nice apartment in the city, a lot like myself, though I had a mortgage was I gradually paying off. The only difference between us was that Barbara had reached the age where she was ready to settle down, and from our brief conversations, it seemed that she'd been through a lot of bad relationships and heartbreak. She was honest and open from the start. She wanted marriage and kids, and if that wasn't for me, then I shouldn't waste her time. I was all for it, such things always having seemed to be a distant dream to me. After years of failure regarding women and having never really had a girlfriend, I was ready to go all in with Barbara and finally show my friends and family that I was an inept loner anymore. There was just one problem, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it.

During our first date, in a similar place to where we were right now, Barbara had chuckled before asking me, "Is there anything I need to know? Any skeletons in the closet?"

I had been so taken in by her pretty eyes, and the casual, fun nature of her personality, that I hadn't wanted to risk scaring her off. There had been plenty I needed to tell her, particularly about my lack of experience and the fact I had still been a virgin. "No," I'd said while looking towards my soda and taking a sip. "Nothing at all." She'd wanted honesty from the start, and even at that early stage I'd lied to her.

It had been almost fate itself that emerged at that moment, as if my lie had been about to bite me in the ass. A text had come through from my housemate, Jasmine, asking what time I was going to be home. I had pushed the phone aside on the table after replying with a snoozing emoji, just as another message popped up before the screen turned black:

have fun, bitch boy

.

Barbara had peered over, but thankfully, I'd closed the screen before she could read the derisive message. "You get points for that," she had joked. "Nothing worse than someone who plays on their phone during a date." Her smile had been warm and reassuring, almost as if she had seen in myself the solutions to all her problems.

I had smiled politely, relieved that she didn't suspect the reasoning behind the text. Jasmine had known that I was out on a date, but still, that hadn't stopped her from messaging me as usual. At first, she used to message me once a week, but gradually, that had turned into multiple times a day. As I had looked at Barbara, and how pretty she was, I was reminded of Jasmine's final words as she'd waved me off. "Good luck, bitch boy," she had said. "Try not to let her know how much of a weirdo you are straight away."

I had been rhythmically chanting that mantra to myself on the way over to the café before I'd even met her.

Don't be weird

, I had urged myself, even as I had first laid eyes on her, patiently waiting for my arrival.

Please, don't be weird, James.

"Was that text from anyone I should be worried about?" Barbara had asked with a dipped head; her sparkling eyes teasing that it was a joke but betraying their genuine concern. "Not a jealous ex-girlfriend or anything?"

"Nothing like that," I had said. "Just my housemate."

"Well, at least I know you're not some weirdo that lives alone and collects dead bodies."

I had awkwardly taken another sip of my drink. "No ex-girlfriends to worry about, and no dead bodies." There had never even been a kiss on the lips to worry about, since such a thing had never happened.

We'd spent the next hour getting to know each other, while I had worried throughout that she'd realise how I wasn't worth the effort, yet, she had stayed interested and attentive. A walk along the beach had followed, before settling down on the sand with a bottle of wine. I had even got a kiss on the cheek; even at that early stage, it had been the most romantic success I'd ever experience.

Now, here we were, six months later, and I'd fumbled along during our relationship, trying to treat her in the way I thought was correct and pretty much went through the motions of what I believed a boyfriend was supposed to do. I was painfully in-experienced when it came to having a girlfriend, and I just wanted her to like me and maintain our coupling for as long as possible. As a result, I pretty much agreed with whatever she said, and kept most of my sexual interests hidden, not wanting to give her any ammunition to be scared off. I mean, other girls had always found any tiny excuse to reject me, so I kept a low profile when it came to m darkest fantasies.

All had seemed to be going well, and I'd somehow managed to last this long unscathed. However, there was just one thing that seemed to bother her, and that was how I always insisted that we met up at her apartment. "It's just more convenient," I'd always argue. "There's more room, plus you don't have a housemate to get in the way."

"Well, I'd like to at least meet her someday," Barbara would say, but I'd brush it off, assuring her that Jasmine wasn't at all interesting, and our evenings would be more romantic if we steered clear of my apartment. Barbara had reluctantly agreed for the most part, but the longer it had gone on, the more her curious became piqued. She'd narrow her eyes at me whenever I made an excuse, and though she usually bit her lip and swallowed down my reasoning, I could sense the accusation in her eyes:

what are you hiding, little man?

Now, as we celebrated our six-months anniversary, Barbara had said those words I'd been hoping for, while dreading at the same time. "Is our relationship serious? Because, I think it's time we thought about moving things on, James." The excitement was evident in her jiggling cheeks. "Do you think we should move in together?"

"You want us to move into your place?" Already I was feeling anxious at the thought of telling Jasmine she would have to move out. I mean, if I had to sell up, then at least that was a firm reasoning I supposed.

"Of course not, silly. I'm only renting. You have a mortgage, right? You could add me to it and I could help you pay it off?"

I blinked, and felt uneasy about having Barbara living with me. I mean, Jasmine surely wouldn't approve of that. She was used to it being the two of us, and she'd so far tolerated that I was in a relationship with Barbara, but if it began to intrude on our home environment, well, she wouldn't be happy. Of course, I couldn't tell Barbara any of this, not after six months of dancing around the subject. I hadn't really told her anything about Jasmine, other than the fact we used to work together and I was, as I phrased it:

helping her out.

The first time I'd mentioned that Jasmine wasn't paying rent, accidentally I might add, Barbara had been taken aback.

"What?" she'd asked, her face a picture of surprise. "Why would you let someone live with you for free? You have a mortgage, yeah?"

She simply couldn't comprehend why I would have another woman living with me for free, and she found the whole thing uncomfortable. Lots of questions followed, endless questions, which I mostly danced around and struggled to answer, because...there really wasn't a suitable excuse to explain why I allowed it to happen. I mean, I couldn't exactly tell her the real reason Jasmine wasn't paying rent, could I? However, the longer I lied about it, and the more frustrated Barbara became with my bumbling excuses, the more I realised that the Jasmine situation was a ticking time bomb.

Everything else in the relationship seemed perfect and as if it was the right time for this step in my life; moving in together was what most normal couples did after all. There was just the one problem in the way, and it had been lingering from the first moment when she'd messaged me. I'd kept putting off telling her about it, convinced that either she'd see sense and break up with me anyway, or that somehow, the problematic situation would solve itself and no longer be an issue. Thankfully, we spent most of our time together at her apartment, though, on the few occasions we'd hung out at our apartment, I'd made sure it was when my housemate wasn't around.

The Jasmine thing was a worry to myself more than Barbara, because honestly, I'd gotten myself into a situation I didn't know how to get out of and had just been burying my head in the sand as the relationship progressed. I was surely a coward, and had no intention of raising the issue, until Barbara did that for me.

On that first date, when Barbara had asked me if I had any skeletons in the closest. I'd lied and said no. The truth was, I had a whole fucking cemetery swinging around in there, and it all revolved around my housemate Jasmine. The longer Barbara and I had dated, the more curious she had been about the role Jasmine played in my life, especially since I always seemed so reluctant to introduce them. It had been a worry growing inside me with greater ferocity each day and a reckoning was approaching.

Now, on our six-month anniversary, and with the motive of making things more serious, it seemed I couldn't divert attention away from the issue any longer.

"So, we really need to talk about the whole Jasmine situation," Barbara said, while avoiding eye contact and taking a sip of her own coffee. After a moment, she looked up at me and waited

The words hung in the air as my girlfriend stared at me expectantly. There was both annoyance and impatience plastered all over her face as she evidently assumed I was going to be able to decipher whatever she was talking about. I mean, I knew exactly what she was talking about, and this was a conversation that I knew was coming. However, after the past six months of playing ignorant whenever she brought the subject up, I was well-settled into my role. Though, despite the act, my legs began nervously shaking beneath the table and I picked at the knee of my jeans. It was a conversation that I knew was eventually going to happen, but that didn't mean that I wanted it to.

"Seriously," she added before blowing on her coffee. "What's up with that? I honestly don't get it and it's about time you explained it all to me."

I awkwardly bit my lip as I thought about how to answer. It was obvious what she was getting at, but still, the cowardly me attempted to play ignorant. "What situation?" I was trying to muddy the waters. If anything, I was trying to buy myself some time so I could figure out how to explain away my odd relationship with my housemate. It had been a lingering bombshell throughout my entire relationship with Barbara, and even after half a year to come up with a suitable explanation, I still didn't have one. There simply wasn't any explanation that would stop Barbara from breaking up with me and running to the hills. As soon as she stepped into my apartment, and realised what was really going on, she would be out the door in a heartbeat.

She folded her arms, kicked a foot against the leg of the chair, and then let out an exaggerated gasp. "You really think this is a normal set-up? Some young girl living with you for free?" She shyly looked away, then gently whispered, "I mean, if it wasn't for the fact I knew you were a virgin before we met, I'd be convinced the two of you were fucking."

I blushed at her highlighting my sexual ineptitude. I had been a virgin until twenty-seven, when I'd met Barbara. My first time seeing her naked had been atrocious. I spent most of the five minutes it lasted, trembling and shaking on the bed while Barbara giggled at how adorable I was. I couldn't even get hard, and it took another three attempts before I was able to penetrate her. Even then, my mind had to be elsewhere, thinking about something else, something back in my apartment. That was the only way I had been able to keep an erection, and though Barbara had been enthusiastic, she'd realised immediately that I was a shy, inexperienced virgin.

"It's okay," she had said, surprising me with her compassion. It had been a mental block for me for so long, that I'd convinced myself that any girl would use it as a means to mock me. "This actually makes it more special."

Still, I disagreed, and found the whole affair humiliating. Yet, Barbara had been a patient and considerate lover, and over time, I'd gradually come out of my shell. A five-minute failure, soon turned to a half-hour marathon, and her older body really seemed to appreciate my youthful stamina.

Through years of porn, I'd even convinced myself that I had a below-average penis. However, it turned out I was quite well-endowed, and Barbara certainly enjoyed my length and girth as she bounced up and down on it. She always seemed to climax during sex, and I did too, but, I wasn't thinking about Barbara while doing so. I was mentally betraying her with every sexual encounter, and the longer it went on, the more it ate me up; but I simply didn't know how to tell her after such a long time. I mean, how do you suddenly confess to the woman you love that you've been fantasising about something else every time you've been intimate.

"Come on, James," Barbara said from across the table. "It's time you started being honest. You need to tell me everything, because this Jasmine thing, it's a problem."

I gulped, as my arrangement with Jasmine was one that had come to fruition during a dark time I'd found myself in. I'd been stuck in a rut of low confidence after countless rejections, and I'd become infatuated with a young girl that my restaurant had employed. From the first moment I'd met her, Jasmine had been an outlet for me; an outlet to a dark side that no one else knew about. It was terribly embarrassing, and if anyone else had found out, especially Barbara, I'd have been mortified. However, Jasmine had never judged me, and for that reason, I found it difficult to remove her from my life. Despite knowing she would likely cause the end of my relationship, I'd formed an attachment to her, and it was impossible to let go.

Obviously, I knew it wasn't an arrangement that was going to last forever, but I'd enjoyed the past two years that Jasmine had been living with me. She'd never judged me throughout, even when I'd first suggested the arrangement after she'd crashed at my place for a couple of days. If anything, it sounded like she'd wanted it more than I had. However, with Barbara now in the picture, my living situation was definitely a problem. Obviously, I'd kept the full nature of my relationship with Jasmine a secret, and it had been guilting me whenever she demanded my time or attention, and I'd chosen her over my own girlfriend. I mean, Barbara would be furious if she knew that straight after our dates, I'd rush home excitedly after a single text from Jasmine.

Since our very first date, I'd had the guilty feelings arise where I knew she wouldn't be happy with the deal I had going on with Jasmine. However, I kind of buried my head in the sand and put it to the back of my mind. I was so used to rejection that I figured I wasn't going to get anywhere with Barbara anyway, so why would I risk bringing an end to the good situation I had going on with my housemate?

You see, I was thankful to Jasmine because she'd been there for me when I needed her, she'd fulfilled a purpose in that moment, and the arrangement had been beneficial for the two of us. As I looked at Barbara opposite, and the total catch and perfect partner that she was, I realised that she was the future I wanted, and that Jasmine needed to be left in the past. Though I enjoyed the thing I had going on with her, it wasn't healthy and not at all normal. It was so weird, that I even struggled to verbalise or consider what we were doing. Whenever the thought came to my head, I'd push it away, almost coasting through my daily life and pretending that there were two versions of myself: the one dating Barbara, and the other one that lived with Jasmine. But, still, whenever the one side settled on reasonable course of action, the other side would rear its head and wrangle back control.

I wrinkled my forehead. "What do you mean?"

"She's living at your place for free, James," she said aghast. "She doesn't pay you anything. You think that's normal?"

I shrugged, and committed myself to my usual narrative, the dark side winning out. Despite knowing the toxicity of my words, that half of me wouldn't relent. "She needed a place to stay and I'm just helping her out."

Barbara cocked her head and eyed me suspiciously. "For two years?"

"It...it just kind of developed like that. She's not a bad housemate."

Barbara's eyes were wide. "Really? From the snippets I know: she does nothing. You do all of the cooking, cleaning, and you're basically a prisoner in your own home." She waved her hand around the cafe. "Do you honestly see us living together with a housemate leeching off us? What about kids, James? We going to have a child in the room with us while she's squatting in what could be our nursery?"

"Well, I, just..." I gulped again. I knew what she was saying was reasonable, but still, this was Jasmine. I did all those things for her because she wanted me to, and Jasmine always got what she... "What am I supposed to say to her? Sorry, you're homeless now?"

Barbara rolled her eyes and tutted. "Of course not, you just tell her our relationship is serious, I'll be moving in, and she has a month to find her own place. Say you've enjoyed helping her out and everything, but it's been long enough for her to find her feet and you have to move on in our relationship. You're paying the mortgage, James, and she's offering you zilch."

I didn't say it, but Jasmine was offering me more than that, she was offering me more than Barbara ever could. Sure, she didn't lift a finger around the apartment, or contribute a single cent to any of my bills, but she didn't need to. She was contributing something that reached a part of me to which no one else had access.

"I'll help you with the mortgage. We can build a life together."