“What do you want to do, Randi? Do you want to go upstairs and freshen up or do you want to go sit out on the boat dock?”

“The boat dock? Was he crazy?” The heat was still oppressive outside, even at 7 in the evening. “I’ll go upstairs.”

“I ran. Into the master bathroom. Man, I looked a mess. Mascara all over my face. My eyes redder than they were when I’d arrived an hour earlier. “Where’s a towel?” I soaked it in cold water and applied it to my face as a compress.

I heard her voice. Isabel was always gracious—and flirtatious—when she interacted with Tank. We’d met her a few weeks earlier With her partner. He’d contacted me online, wanting to learn more about me. I quickly set the record straight that I had a swing partner and wasn’t interested in playing alone. Much to my surprise, he said he had a partner, too.

She asked to chat with me by phone before the four of us met. I thought I’d met a kindred spirit: a jewish woman, a year older than me. Fairly new to the lifestyle with a kink for spanking, not during sex, but beforehand as a stimulant. She’d been the BDSM route and pulled back a bit in favor of swinging.

It was a Friday evening when we all had dinner together at a brewery. The three of them did most of the talking; I chose to sit back and observe the interactions. This was the first meeting with a couple where Tank and I agreed all we’d do is meet—no play.

We met a second time at a meet-and-greet the following Saturday night. She was all over Tank like a wet noodle. And he was into her in a big way. She was getting the sorts of passion kisses I hadn’t had from him in a while. But that’s the life of a swinger—especially when you’re a single. Sometimes your partner is more turned on by newness than by familiarity and what he can have on a regular basis.

Isabel had shown up at his house this evening for a posture assessment. Her body had been wracked with pain for years—sciatica she said—and Tank felt differently—and had offered to see her professionally for free. She’d been without work a long while and had just started a new sales position.

Once I put myself together, I quietly walked down the stairs and sat on the fourth one from the bottom. I watched through the step railings as Tank had her position her body in various ways so he could assess her pain and her multiple problems. She finally saw me.

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“You don’t look well.”

“I know.”

“We have to get together and play soon—the four of us. I’m sooooo looking forward to it.”

Like I didn’t know. She’d been calling me almost daily to say how much she was looking forward to that opportunity. I remember one day in particular when she called to gush about Tank for 45 minutes. And then called back five minutes later to say how sorry she was not to have mentioned her interest in both of us as a couple.

Before she left, she pulled out her calendar and rattled off dates that she and her partner had available to meet with us. Tank had told her at the meet-and-greet he thought it’d be fun to spend the whole night together as a foursome and have breakfast together in the morning. He agreed to a date a few weekends later. I kept quiet.

After she left, he walked me over to the kitchen table and turned two chairs to face each other. I sat down. So did he. And he held my hands in his. We sat quiet for a few minutes.

“I’m not going to see you any more if you decide to no longer continue our relationship.”

“Well, that’s the problem, Randi. It’s a relationship. That’s now how things got started. You were seeking another swing partner to add to the mix and then things changed. Although I am jealous that you know how you feel.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be. It’s painful to love somebody who doesn’t love you back. I’ve known that for a long time. That’s why I never told you how I felt. Was it ever good?”

“It was great in Palm Springs. Everything was moving along great. Then things changed. I had to focus my attention on my daughter because of what happened on our trip (side note: she’d decided to act out at home and Tank pulled in all the reins on her when he got home). And you wanted more time with me—and I didn’t have it. There were birthdays and high school graduations.”

“But you never asked me out.”

“You never gave me a chance, Randi. Every week you were telling me about a party or who’d written to you to play with us. There was never time for me to ask you out.”

“But you told me to orchestrate everything. I was just doing what you told me to do. And now you’re telling me what I’ve done hasn’t been working. What do you want? You need to tell me. Otherwise, I won’t know what to do.”

“I want us to take a break from swinging. For at least a month.”

“What about us? Do you want a break from us too? I told you a long time ago that if ‘we’ don’t find ourselves going forward as a couple, I will disappear. I don’t think I could be your friend given how I feel about you. It would be too hard for me emotionally.” (But truth be told, I didn’t fully understand why this was so important to me. I just knew it was.)

“I want to see you. But I want us to stop having sex. It’s too much. I need to figure out how I feel about you. Without the physical stuff.”

“So what are you saying? You want to press the reset button? What do we call ourselves?”

“Well, I’m not planning to see anyone else so I would be dating you exclusively. So I guess you’d be my girlfriend. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, only we also need to talk about the rules. What I can and can’t do. I’m not going to call you anymore. If you want to see me, you’ll need to call me. And we need to recalibrate regularly so we know if things are going okay. The airline ticket I gave you for the end of September. It’s yours no matter what. I just need to know if you plan on using it with me. I got us a hotel room and things would change for the bat mitzvah we are to attend if you don’t come with me.”

“I need space, Randi. And I need to make sure that my brain, my heart and my physical reactions match. Right now, this (he pointed to his head) isn’t connecting with you.”

I was devastated. He knew how much I prized an intellectual—a brain connection. I felt like a dagger had pierced my heart.

“I understand. But there’s more. God told me to ask you why you’re sabotaging this relationship. Every time things get good, you back away. And your daughter—there are ways you interact with her that are more like interacting with a significant other than a daughter. Sometimes you talk baby talk to her and she pulls hairs out of your back. Those are more intimate acts. I know the two of you have been alone a long time, but I need you to reflect on these things.”

“I need to think about this. You’re telling me things I haven’t thought about.”

I left Tank’s home that evening, not knowing  exactly when I’d hear from him again. Whatever lesson I needed to learn had been set in motion.