a fleeting glimpse of a happy world

He hated sleeping without his wife — hard to believe you could develop a physical need for another person like that. He lay alone in that huge bed; Alex and Jennifer were spending the night at her parents' house, smoothing the ground. Alex looked drastically different now, and they had to ease people into it — she was considered family there, and everyone knew the two of them lived together. Nick would have just shown up and charmed her mother on the spot, but his wife wanted to do this her way, so her way it would be.

The solitude didn't last long — someone slipped into bed with him. Couldn't be Rose; she'd never do that without being ordered to. Only one person left.

"Hi," she whispered — no real reason to whisper, Rose was two floors down and not about to be disturbed.

"Hi." He looked at her — beautiful in the moonlight, wearing a red satin nightgown instead of her usual near-nakedness, sexy and elegant, oddly reminiscent of his wife — hair down, ruby-red lips included.

"Can I stay a while?"

"Sure. Everything okay?"

"Yeah — well, no. Helen still won't talk to me. I know she hasn't told our parents, or they'd have called by now, but she won't answer me."

"That might actually be a good sign. Sounds like guilt. Either way, Jen's on it — there's nothing she can't fix."

"You two love each other so much."

"More than anything in this world."

"That's beautiful." Her eyes welled up; something was clearly weighing on her. "What's it like?"

"What, being in love?"

"Yeah."

"You have a boyfriend, you know."

"Yeah, well, it's not the same. You two... complement each other, in this way... how you look at her, the things you say to each other. I love Dan, and I like that he's into this whole sex thing, he supports me in whatever I ask for."

"But?"

"But I don't feel... connected to him. If you disappeared on Jen tomorrow, she'd die, I know it. I don't have that."

"I'd never leave her. They'd have to drag me out of this house feet-first."

"That's exactly what I mean." She looked sad; he pulled her into a hug, and she rested her head on his chest.

"Can I ask you something? You can say no."

"Go ahead."

"Can you make love to me... the way you do with her?"

"Eve, I think you might be confusing—"

"No, no, that's not it, I swear. I just want... I want to know what it feels like."

Nick sighed for a moment.

"I can't make love to you the way I do to my wife, because you're not her, Eve. It's not a set of moves I've got saved just for her, it's... it's hard to explain."

"That's beautiful," she said, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"But I can make love to you the way I would to Eve — the girl who came into my life because my wife took a liking to her, and who ended up becoming an important part of my family, someone I'd do anything to see happy."

"I'd like that."

He pulled her on top of him and helped her out of the nightgown.

"The nightgown was a sweet touch, but be yourself. I want to make love to Eve right now."

"Thank you."

"No need."

He sat back against the headboard with her on top, sliding into her slowly, wrapping his arms around her. She curled hers between them and they kissed — she felt so small in his lap, so in need of protection and affection, a stark contrast to the dominant persona she wore around that poor guy. He was as tender as he knew how to be that night, covering her in kisses and caresses, and when they reached their climax, he laid her down; she curled into a fetal position and he wrapped an arm around her, hoping she'd feel safe, protected, and fell asleep within minutes. He didn't. He never slept well without his wife.

"You're such a sweetheart."

"You're not mad?"

He was driving — they were on their way to a lunch Jennifer had arranged with Helen. They were friends, after all, or used to be — time to figure out how to soften up the ice queen. Was going to take a solid dose of sex god, no doubt about it.

"Not at you. You just... give us what we want. She wanted to be loved, and you made her feel loved."

"And I do love her... in a perverted, fatherly kind of way."

"And you love Alex too."

"A lot."

"And Rose."

"Of course."

"And me."

"No, not like that."

"Like what?"

"You already know."

"Yeah, but I like hearing it."

He thought about it for a moment.

"You know, it's not easy to describe — it's too... not of this world. Hard to find grand enough words for it."

She smiled at him. "I know what you mean."

"Of course you do — you know everything, gorgeous, and I look at you like an idiot every single time, wondering how I ended up with the smartest, most incredible woman on the planet next to me."

If ever there was a moment to exaggerate, this was it — she felt a little insecure, which wasn't like her at all.

"Okay, you're forgiven, this time."

He made an exaggerated show of wiping sweat off his brow.

"But seriously — you know nothing and no one could ever come close to what I feel when I look at you. Never doubt that. Tell me you don't want any of this anymore, and we're gone, in a heartbeat. You're everything I need in my life. Everything that actually matters to me." He was dead serious.

"I loved that... a lot. But I don't want that."

"I'm not saying it because I want you to like it. It's just true."

"I know, I'm not jealous... but that little brat tried to replace me."

"She's just confused. She wants to be loved, and the most loved person she knows is you — that's why she did it. She didn't understand you can't just pretend to be someone else for a while to test it out."

"You're being very perverted-dad about this."

"I made it clear to her she doesn't have to fake being anyone else to be loved. I love her as she is. And if what she actually wants is to find someone to share her life with, the way we have it, the way I found you — then I'll help her find that."

Jennifer studied him closely — it melted her inside, how good he was. "Where'd the caveman go?"

"He's still here. But he's only got eyes for you. Them — I just want them happy. Doesn't matter how, or with who. I owe you a lot," he continued.

"For what?"

"I get it a little more now... looking at her, I could tell she needed to feel loved, could see past the whole nightgown thing. Old me would've kicked her out for not even wanting to be compared to you, or just fucked her without thinking twice, who knows — but not this. This is because you changed me. For the better."

"You've always been like this. You've always given us what we wanted — you just understand it now."

He didn't agree, but they were pulling up to the restaurant.

"What's the plan?"

"No idea, let's see what happens. Haven't talked to her in ages — she looks down on everyone, always got on my nerves a little, that's why we drifted apart."

"I remember her — cute blonde, a little full of herself."

"That's her exactly."

"I can tell you're dying to see her."

"Not even a little, and this morning I would've thrown her sister out the fucking window, so imagine." He didn't usually curse — bad day.

"Good thing the pool's right underneath."

He parked and killed the engine.

"I know you're going to try to punish her somehow. I'm asking you — let it go."

"You never ask me for anything."

"Because I don't need to. You're seven steps ahead of everyone, always. But this time I'm asking you to let it go. She already feels alone enough without thinking you're going to run her off too."

They looked at each other for a moment.

"What, am I wrong?"

"No, it's just... you never ask me for anything, and when you have... it's not for you. But okay. Consider it settled." They kissed in the car.

"Thank you. You're incredible."

"Flatterer."

"Pervert."

Helen showed up — also small, not much chest, less athletic than Eve, more naturally curved, wide hips. Pretty light-colored eyes. She wore a long, loose, rather dull dress that didn't flatter anything.

When they greeted each other, something happened that neither of them expected — the two women kissed cheeks, the usual, then she greeted Nick, and... nothing happened. No swooning, no heat, nothing at all.

They sat down to eat, and that was when both of them started to understand why — Helen couldn't take her eyes off Jennifer the whole time they caught up, including the whole sisters-fighting saga. Nick could see it, subtle as it was — small touches on his wife's hand, and the fact that he was completely invisible to her. She was gay.

All the pieces clicked into place — strict Catholic parents, sworn to virginity, forced to live in an airtight closet, so airtight nobody had ever even suspected — hiding behind haughty and stuck-up when really she just had a sexual orientation she couldn't accept, and neither could anyone around her; that foster home had been extremely Catholic.

The couple exchanged a look, said nothing — didn't need to. They had a pleasant evening, and Jennifer invited her to the pool another day, and while she had Helen's undivided attention, worked in a little nudge for her to try talking to her sister and fix things. "If she's happy, Helen, who cares how — you have to accept yourself for who you are." God, the way that woman's brain worked — he could have taken her right there on the table in the middle of the restaurant, watching her work the room exactly the way she wanted drove him crazy.

"What a hypocrite."

Nick said nothing, driving in silence.

"The amount of crap I put up with over some dumb thing she thought wasn't 'righteous' or 'moral,' unbelievable."

Nick let her vent.

"And Alex — you know how many times she's called her a whore for jumping around from guy to guy? I could kill her."

It had been a rough day between one thing and another — his always elegant, calm, understanding wife had officially hung up the "closed" sign today.

"Screwing over her own sister like that over who she sleeps with or doesn't, when she's a LESBIAN? I could kill her, seriously."

She looked at Nick, who'd stayed quiet a while, not saying anything. He put a hand on her thigh, stroking it.

"You're not going to say anything?"

"I'm waiting for you to get it all out, or fly out the window from pure rage. One or the other."

She looked offended... and then immediately calmed down — the stroking was working. She grabbed his hand before speaking.

"Your parents are really Catholic too."

"Yeah, but—"

"Shh, quiet, play along. Imagine being born gay."

"That's not an excuse to treat people like that."

"No, of course not. But imagine it."

"...It's a fucking nightmare," she admitted.

"At the very least. I have no idea what that does to a person, being locked up like that for that many years — she hasn't even told her own sister, even knowing the kind of life she's actually living."

"You feel bad for her?"

"Yeah, and I understand why she got angry at her sister — she just watched the one person she thought understood her, even remotely, break free, and she's stuck, and now she has no one, because she's pushed everyone away covering her own back. Can you imagine a life like that? I can't even imagine life without you anymore — imagine being completely alone, not even knowing what it's like to be wanted by someone you want back, not even on the most basic physical level, nothing, nothing at all, just resentment and sadness, nonstop... you don't know, Jen, you're a being of light, you don't know what it's like when life keeps screwing you over and over, you don't know what that turns a person into."

He realized he'd been talking to himself for a while, and that his wife was squeezing his hand hard. He looked away from the road to check on her — her big dark eyes were full of tears.

"What—"

"Pull over."

"What's wrong?"

"Pull over, please."

He pulled onto the shoulder and looked at her, terrified — what had he said?

"You are an angel who fell from heaven to save humanity. Never, ever again think about whether you deserve something or not — with me, or with anyone else — and I am going to help you save all of us until the day I die. Understood?"

He wanted to look at her, hold her, tell her how wrong she was, that she was the one who'd fallen from heaven to save him — but he knew she wouldn't accept that, so he just held her hand tight.

"Imagine the world if that damn Rasputin hadn't been such a bastard," she said, wiping her tears.

"Hard to picture."

"That's the world I want to leave to our kids."

Her words moved something in him.

"You're getting very... messianic about this. I'd settle for you just being happy."

"That's exactly why you're the right person for this. I choose to believe there's a real purpose to all this — and if there isn't, we're going to make one."

He wanted to tell her the weight of the entire world's happiness was too much for him to carry, but he wanted to be the angel she saw in him too. "I'm going to need a flaming sword." And there was that smile again — he'd save the world seven times over, or damn it to hell, if that's what it took to see her smile.

When they got home, Eve came running through tears the moment they walked in, confessing everything to Jennifer, begging forgiveness, and Jennifer held her, comforting her: "Shh, it's okay, it was just a silly mistake, no big deal." Watching them, for some reason, Nick caught a fleeting glimpse of a happy world.

He went up to their room and sat on the bed, waiting for his beloved, lost in thought.

"She cried herself to sleep," she said, walking in. "So cute..."

He didn't say anything to her — undressed her gently and made love to her; there weren't enough words for her, so he hoped to at least show her a fraction of what he felt.

In bed, some time later, catching their breath, wrapped in each other's arms, staring at one another, Nick broke the silence.

"There are eight billion people in the world. There's five of us here. That leaves seven billion, nine hundred ninety-nine million, nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-five."

He paused.

"So what do I need to do?"