Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I swallowed again. I didn’t think I had misunderstood the implication, though the guide had put it so delicately. The next sentence, though still delicate, made it much clearer.
In the very important area of intimacy with your husband, brides in your sort of relationship often experience a level of emotional turmoil that can benefit greatly from talking to others who have been through the same difficulties. We know how embarrassing it can be to ask for help in this area especially, and so to ensure your visit with us assists you and your husband as much as possible, we ask you to agree to certain guidelines. Tap here to go the Inquirers’ Agreement.
I felt my cheeks start to heat up. Here we go. I tapped.
The next screen had three paragraphs on it, with a checkbox next to each one.
I agree to keep an open mind about what it would mean to live in Rocky Falls, and how it would suit my and my husband’s needs as a couple.
I felt a crinkle emerge between my eyebrows. Why would they need me to agree to that? It was hardly a rule. It definitely also indicated that there were facets of life in Rocky Falls that might not seem to suit me very well at all. Meeting Scott and April, I supposed, had already told me that.
But an open mind? I liked to think I always had an open mind. I tapped the checkbox.
I agree to follow the instructions of my Rocky Falls Inquirers’ Program leaders.
I tapped the checkbox, hardly thinking about it. Safety thing—and liability thing—obviously.
I agree to obey my husband while I’m in Rocky Falls.
My jaw went slack. “Um,” I said. “There’s a…” My voice trailed off. The blush had spread over my whole face.
“The obey thing?” Rick asked. I looked over at him and saw a smile on his face. “I don’t know how they think they can enforce that. It seems kind of crazy, right?”
“Well…” I said. I didn’t want to tell him how the word obey had made me feel—partly because I hardly knew myself. I looked back down at the screen, frowning and thinking about the conversations with wives like me, wondering if they might have words for the roil of emotions in my chest and my belly and…
No. I looked out the window, trying to gather the fortitude to tell Rick to take me back home.
“You trust me,” Rick said. His voice had gotten a lot more serious. “Don’t you?”
I turned back to him, feeling tears prickle in my nose. “Yes,” I said, my voice sounding a little like a sob. Yes. I love you. I trust you. It’s just… when you touch me that way…
I looked back down at my phone. For a moment, as if reflected on the screen, I saw Rick coming out of the bathroom on our wedding night—the arrogant jut of his manhood, the thrill of fear, the confusion that seemed to afflict every molecule of my body and every synapse of my brain. I had obeyed him that night, hadn’t I?
Or had I?
But this obedience thing for the town, it must just have to do with the vibe, right? Old-fashioned people with old-fashioned values, preserving an older understanding of marriage. Could I really say I didn’t want that? Or at least that I didn’t want to give it a try?
I tapped the checkbox.
Selecta’s travel office at the airport didn’t make me regret agreeing to the guidelines—at least not when we pulled up in front of it, where a valet took the wheel while a skycap got our luggage from the trunk and an agent welcomed us to the program.
“Mister and missus…” She glanced down at her tablet, and tapped a checkbox. “Williams?”
I felt my eyes go a little wide. How could she possibly have known that without asking? Our license plate? Some kind of facial recognition?
“That’s right,” Rick said warmly. “I’m Rick and this is Mandy.”
A little heat came into my face as I extended my hand to shake the one the agent had held out to me.
“I’m Miss Audrey Haddon,” she said. “Very nice to meet you, and welcome to the New Modesty Inquirers’ Program. Why don’t you go ahead and grab your carry-ons? We’ll take care of the rest of your bags, don’t worry. Then I’ll show you to the waiting area.”
Miss Haddon—I couldn’t think of her in any other way, since she seemed so very proper, neatly dressed, and self-composed—led us to a sparkling lounge, furnished with insanely comfortable leather chairs, where a handsome bartender served complimentary soft drinks, wine, and beer. Three other couples sat there, sipping their beverages, apparently waiting for flights just as we were, though none of them seemed to have an age gap like ours.
“Your flight should start boarding in about an hour,” Miss Haddon told us. “We’ll get you right to the gate, and you’ll have priority boarding, so just go ahead and relax—have a drink and a sandwich, if you haven’t eaten. I’m happy to say our food is a lot better than what you can get on the plane. Tony at the bar can put your order in for you, and the server will bring your food right to you.”