"If we're in Ordinary Mode," she said to me at one point, "You'd still answer me honestly if I asked you to?"
"Of course."
I felt a little shiver, my every instinct as a man warning me that this was a conversation heading toward Heavy Territory. Was she breaking up with me? After everything we'd been through? Had she decided to do it preemptively, without waiting for Ms Jenkinson's verdict?
I tried to keep calm, keep my paranoid thoughts from running away with themselves.
"What did you really think about… you know… what happened with Brandon?"
"What happened with Brandon?" I blinked stupidly, a little surprised that she would raise that subject again, seemingly so far after it had happened. "I don't know - what d'you mean?"
At that particular moment in the evening, we were taking a shower, having lounged around for a long while after our adventures in oil, ending up feeling like freshening up. Since I'd been going out with Zoey, there had been countless new experiences, but strangely, I think one of the most genuinely pleasurable, most relaxing things I'd never done with anyone else was simply taking a shower together, pressing our bodies together under the wonderfully warm flow of steamy water, running my hands over her unbelievably smooth, soft skin, fingers caressing her, slipping over her body with ease thanks to the sheen of luxurious coconut-scented body wash.
Normally, when I was serving her, it would largely be me washing her body, ensuring she was clean and content, before a quick wash and rinse for myself as she got out. That evening, however, we were in Ordinary Mode, which for us somehow seemed like anything but Ordinary, and Zoey was taking as much care to wash me - and feel me up - as I was her.
We were relaxed, so unbelievably relaxed in there. It seemed like a safe environment for Zoey to divulge what was on her mind.
"I guess I just want to say sorry," she said.
"Sorry? For what?"
"Everything that happened that night," she looked up at me with a sudden vulnerability in her eyes. She said: "I guess a part of me… well, that part really did want to… hurt you."
I took a deep breath, recalling the strange, powerful mixture of feelings I experienced that evening, when she had returned to her hotel room with her ex- in tow.
"It was bizarre," I said, trying to portray utter calm by grabbing the bottle of body wash once again, pouring some out into my palm before applying it to her shoulders rather pointlessly, considering that particular part of her was already clean. "I'm not sure I thought you were purposefully hurting me."
That was a white lie. I think actually that night was bordering on the terrifying for me. The thing was, at the time, and even now, I'd felt I'd deserved every minute, what I'd put her through. And there was that little dark place inside of me somewhere that thought the whole thing seemed curiously exciting.
"I had a few drinks, and I felt like I wanted to punish you," she said.
"I knew you wanted to punish me. You were clear about that. I guess we needed a safe word, or something like that."
"We shouldn't need a safe word. I should be able to see when too far is too far."
She shook her head, those big dark eyes so apologetic, fearful, I thought my strong Zoey was about to cry. She said: "It was more than just our game. I wanted to punish you for what you put me through before. I know you'd changed, you saw the error of your ways - and you were making it up to me. But I still just wanted you to feel the kind of pain I went through when… well, you know."
I kissed her forehead, hugged her, almost platonically if you can believe it just about then.
"I deserved it, everything I got," I said quietly.
"You didn't deserve that," she insisted. "I had a few drinks, and I was going to tease you a little. Brandon had been bugging me for ages to reconnect, so I figured I'd give you a little scare - only I got too drunk. And I gave Brandon the wrong idea. And then it just went too far."
I nodded, and for a moment we gazed into each others' eyes, and while hers were clearly filled to the brim with regret, mine were quite obviously full of forgiveness and love.
In this moment of candor, I felt both the urge to expose the darkest secrets buried within me, and also the need to comfort her with the reassurance that it hadn't all been as bad as she thought. I said: "You know, it was a shock, but there was some part of me that kind of… well… I don't know, enjoyed it."
"Enjoyed it?" She wrinkled her brow up at me.
"I don't know," I said, suddenly sheepish, slightly wishing I'd kept my secrets to myself, moment of candor or not. "Watching you… you're so beautiful, watching you from a completely independent angle - I'd never seen anything like it. I guess there's nothing I love more than seeing you being pleasured - even if it's not necessarily me doing it."