"This is everything," he called from the other room.
She walked out of the pantry and shut the door. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he said, depositing the sacks on the counter.
"Do you think less of me because I enjoy what you do to me?" She pulled one of the bags closer to her. "I'm talking about if you only knew me as the owner of a homeless shelter, and you knew some other guy was treating me–"
"There is no other guy in your life," he said.
"I know that. I'm just creating a scene for you to understand what I'm asking. Pretend you knew that Joe Blow tied me up and spanked me. Would you still think I'm a successful business owner and respect what I've done in my life?" She removed the produce from the plastic sacks and set the vegetables on the counter by the sink.
"It'd be none of my business." He dug through the bag. "Did you buy any chips?"
"No." She sighed heavily. "The thing is, if I knew...say Evie, Sia's mom, had a boyfriend and I noticed bruises or heard rumors her male friend used sex to prove a point to her, I'd talk to her. I'd worry. I'd do anything in my power to help her get away from him."
"You wouldn't do a thing, because it's none of your business." He braced his hands on the counter. "I thought we were clear on this particular subject. You won't go back to the camp."
"I won't. I'm just trying to have a conversation with you." She frowned, unsure if he was taking her seriously or not. "I want you to think about my question. It has to do with you and me, not Evie. I was only using her as an example." She folded the paper sack.
"There was no question. Our relationship is no one's business. You don't divulge anything about what happens between us to others, so they'll never know what we do together. I don't see what your problem is," he said.
She took a skillet from the overhead hanger and clanked it against the burner of the stove. "Most people have vanilla sex." She shrugged. "It doesn't include some of the things we've done. You're...rough."
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "What's the problem? You like it."
"I do," she whispered.
"Then there's no problem." He kissed her. "Stop thinking I'm going to force you to do something you'll hate."
"I guess as long as you don't order me to go to that underground sex club a few blocks from the shelter, we're fine," she muttered.
"That's not funny." He glared over his shoulder. "I don't share. Ever."
"Thank God you have boundaries," she mumbled, sarcastically.
"When it comes to you, that fucking boundary is all around you. No one can get in and take what's mine." He kissed her again.
Butterflies took flight. She watched him leave the room with the bag of chocolate chips and smiled. He made her happy.
