By McCall Butterick
Selling my car was an act of financial desperation: It made me enough cash to repay my girlfriend, Abby, and my past due student loan as I scrambled to find a solution to my ongoing money problems. But at the same time, of course, it left me without transportation - now I'd have to take the bus to work most days, and rely on Abby for rides at other times. It made getting a second job would now be a lot harder.
What's more, abruptly putting my Hyundai up for sale to pay my bills meant I could no longer hide from Abby the desperate state of my finances. It was now obvious to her that, despite all my assurances when I moved in, I could not actually afford to pay my fair share of the rent. I was in over my head. Another disappointment. Another link in the chain.
Abby remained somewhat supportive of me, accepting that I was doing my best to get on my feet and agreeing that the car breaking down probably wasn't my fault - if I had been keeping it properly maintained, of course.
But the dynamic of our relationship was shifting. Abby sat me down at the kitchen table the night I sold my car and asked about my plans going forward. How would I make more money, especially without a car? Had I applied for any new jobs lately? When could I expect to start supporting myself with writing? I had no good answers.
"Eric," she said, looking me right in the eye across the table. "Do you have enough money to pay rent this month?"
"Oh, God, of course!" I said immediately, although in all honesty that was by no means a certainty. Paying my half of the rent still depended on scoring extra shifts at the coffee shop, despite having annoyed my manager, Renee. Or making extra money some other way, which had so far failed. And even then I could still be torpedoed by unplanned expenses. Already I had to buy a bus pass and realized I might need to take an Uber home from work some nights, when I worked late and the buses had stopped running.
As these thoughts went through my head I lowered my gaze to the red and white checkered tablecloth, unable to make eye contact with Abby. She had begun to intimidate me a little.
Even before my financial crisis Abby had asserted herself further as the head of our little household, and she was now slowly cementing her place as dominant partner. In the first few weeks after I'd moved in she might have been willing to overlook my poor housekeeping skills, inability to cook and general laziness. Now she was now quick to admonish me for leaving clothes on the bedroom floor, dirty dishes in the sink, the toilet seat up. She began assigning me cleaning chores: The bathroom, the kitchen.
"Eric," she might say, her tone sharp. "There's no time for you to be playing video games when there's housework to be done. Put it away now."
This new attitude extended to the bedroom. As the older, more experienced partner between us, Abby had always sort of guided me in our lovemaking. Now she was firmly in charge.
I could still try to initiate things, and was always very eager to do so, but she didn't hesitate to turn me down if she wasn't in the mood. If I was allowed s*x, it was increasingly directed toward her pleasure. She didn't pay much attention to my undersized p*nis and, though she didn't directly say so, I began to suspect that she found my little tool inadequate for the task. She seemed to prefer that I service her with my mouth and I worried that she was losing interest in our sex life entirely.
By this time we had started spending more time with our neighbor Anders, a big, affable guy in his mid-thirties who lived in a large, one-bedroom apartment just a few doors down and would often pop by after work for a quick drink or two.
Anders was good-looking and charismatic, with a slight accent from his childhood somewhere in Europe, I think. He ran his own business, something to do with construction, and was generous with money, often bringing us a six-pack of beer or bottle of whiskey when he came knocking at our door. Soon he took to hosting us at his place, which had a wooden deck out back where we could sit in the evenings.
