Angela holds nothing back in my dream. There's no pause for contraception, or much else. She wants me. She's hungry for me, desperate for me. It's nothing like real life, where there's a shyness, a caution, to her passion. And in my dream, I answer her with the same intensity, not overthinking things the way I sometimes do, even now. In real life, I'm aware that I've broken my vow. Not that I'm a monk, but I did say we shouldn't have sex until and unless we're married. And we're still in this limbo of engagement.

I wake up hard, aching with it. And then Angela's hand is on my hardness! Am I still dreaming?

"Angela, what are you doing?" The time she started to seduce me in our kitchen back in Connecticut, I thought she was unlike herself, and that was only a tenth as bold as this.

"I want you, Tony!" she gasps.

"Baby, let me wake up more. And don't we need—"

"It's not my fertile time. And you're Catholic. Let's use the rhythm method."

I chuckle. "Father Marconi will be thrilled."

"You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"I was kidding."

And then we lock eyes, no more kidding around. I can't believe it's happening like this. Neither of us is putting on the brakes this time, unlike the past eight years. I know, we're still not any closer to being married, but for once I don't care.

She's ready for me, body and soul. Usually she wants a lot of foreplay, which I am happy to provide. But tonight she almost immediately guides me into her and I happily follow. The desperate hunger of my dream has spilled over into reality, for both of us.

Don't get me wrong, sex with us is good, always. But tonight it's different. Tonight it's like we can't get enough of each other, like we have to keep doing this or we'll die.

"More, Tony, more, more!" she urges.

"Everything, Angela!" I cry.

She laughs although I mean it. And then we're really clutching at each other and our eyes are burning into each other and it seems almost insane, but we can't stop, until, well, until I have to.

I hope she's right about her cycle, because I've come so hard I feel like I could've put triplets in her. Her own orgasm ripples through her body and I can feel it surrounding me, like ocean waves.

"Wow!" we both breathe and then smile. We fall asleep, tangled in each other, and I hope it'll be like this when we're married.

...

As the plane takes off just before midnight, I think about how this is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I love Tony so much, but this is an unworkable situation. I'm doing my best not to think about a few nights ago, when we both dreamed of making love more passionately than ever before, really throwing ourselves into it. And then we woke and made it a reality.

But unfortunately there's more to a relationship than just sex. Not that it was ever just about sex with us, obviously. We wouldn't have stayed together for eight years of usually little more than occasional kisses if it had just been lust-driven. But our physical attraction, unconsummated until a couple months ago, helped keep us together as much as the mutual support and the laughter and even the tears.

It's strange, part of me is thinking of when he told me about spending his first night with Kathleen. The situation is very different now, but I think there's a part of me that hopes that this, too, is part of our journey. If Tony and I are both single in say five years, and he has a job opportunity on the East Coast, well, I won't rule out a reunion. But I know by now too much can happen. And Mother can talk all she wants to about Fate, but maybe this bumpy dead-end road has been part of our Fate, too.

I left Mother and the children behind. I had to get out of Branford. I would've gone back to Tony's apartment to pick up my things, but I couldn't face the family, or the guests at the party celebrating the team's win. I hailed the town's one taxi and headed for the airport. I know, it was awful, I left Tony to explain everything. But I didn't want Mother and the others to argue me out of this. Yes, she didn't think I should stay in "this hick town," but I think she was hoping I'd lure Tony back to Connecticut.

Yet, except for very minor examples, I generally have tried not to manipulate Tony. Sometimes I've stepped back and not even told him all I feel, so that I won't influence him for the wrong reasons.

I did demand sex the other night, but he was just as eager as I was. Mother probably thinks I should be like that all the time, and not just about sex. But she is, I have to say, very selfish sometimes, and I've never wanted to be like her in that way. Yes, she's arguably happier, but are the people around her happier? Yet here I've broken Tony's heart, in a completely different way than Mother has broken hearts. Tony, the last person in the world (well, other than of course Jonathan) that I ever wanted to hurt.

"The last thing I want is for you to feel badly about seeing someone because of me."

"Well, I don't want you to feel badly about anything."

Why was that comparatively easy to deal with? Oh, it hurt terribly, maybe even worse than this, but I still had hope then. And we hadn't yet admitted we loved each other. We hadn't yet planned to be married. He hadn't yet been inside me.

Was the sex a mistake? No, I think we had to take that final step. Yes, there were even more final steps— marriage, maybe a baby if we'd gotten together sooner, growing old together— but the final step in dating. We had to know how wonderful it could be to unite physically as well as emotionally. And it's not as if giving him up now would be any easier if we'd never made love.

It did occur to me the morning after our most intense time, I'd miscalculated my cycle. We shouldn't have been having unprotected sex then. But I'm 42 and the odds are against it. Likely I'll get my period in a couple weeks, when I'm back in Fairfield and life has quieted down. It'll be a very quiet life without Tony. But it's for the best.