“You’re scared,” Virginia said softly, sounding almost surprised by the realization.
Roger gave a strained laugh. “What do you think he’s going to do to you?”
She tilted her head. “I think you’re catastrophizing.”
“Catastrophizing?” Roger stared at her. “That’s your professional diagnosis? After nine years of undergrad, graduate school, and post-grad training, your conclusion is that I have ‘catastrophic thinking’ because you’re about to disappear for ten days with a man who seems capable of rewriting your brain with pleasure?”
Virginia burst into laughter before he finished.
“Rewriting my brain?” she gasped between breaths. “Replacing it with pleasure? Roger, why wouldn’t I want that?”
Despite himself, he almost laughed too. Her joy was infectious, reckless, terrifying.
But the fear sitting in his chest refused to move.
“I’m serious,” he said quietly. “Every time you talk about James, it’s like you stop thinking clearly. Like all that matters is making him happy.” Roger rubbed his face anxiously. “What happens when he tells you to do something insane? Walk naked through a truck stop? Humiliate yourself for him? What if you stop caring?”
Virginia collapsed against the kitchen counter laughing so hard tears formed in her eyes.
“Please stop,” she said breathlessly. “You’re going to kill me.”
Roger didn’t smile this time.
“We need a safety plan.”
That finally made her pause.
“If it helps you sleep at night,” she said gently, “what do you suggest?”
“If you’re ever in trouble, call me and say only one word: ‘Roger.’ Text it. Leave it on voicemail. Anything.”
Virginia blinked. “That’s the safe word?”
“Yes.”
“What if I forget it?”
Roger groaned while she dissolved into laughter again.
The sound stayed with him long after James arrived.
The eighteen-wheeler rolled onto their quiet suburban street like some enormous steel predator, engine growling deep enough to rattle windows. Neighbors peeked through curtains as the massive black truck settled in front of the house.
Virginia didn’t hesitate.
Carrying a small overnight bag, she practically ran outside.
Roger watched helplessly as James climbed down from the cab. Tall, broad, confident—he moved with the calm certainty of someone who always got what he wanted. Virginia threw herself into his arms without even glancing back at her husband first.
Their kiss was immediate and intimate.
Across the street, old Mr. Oliver stood frozen beside his mailbox, openly staring now. His confused eyes shifted between Virginia wrapped around another man and Roger standing silently nearby.
Roger forced himself to smile and wave.
The neighbor awkwardly waved back.
“Guys,” Roger muttered weakly, “the neighbors are watching.”
Virginia laughed against James’s chest. “Is old Oliver getting excited?”
“No,” Roger answered quietly.
Virginia grinned mischievously up at James. “But I am.”
James smirked.
“So is he,” Virginia whispered, pressing herself closer to the trucker just enough to make Roger look away. “We should leave before he decides to take me right here in the driveway.”
Roger felt his stomach tighten painfully.
James lifted her effortlessly into the cab using both hands. Virginia looked radiant up there beside him—alive in a way Roger hadn’t seen in years.
Then the truck pulled away.
Roger stood motionless beneath the trees, listening to the roar of the engine fade into the distance.
And for the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, he felt completely alone.