“Why don’t you tell me yours?”, said she whilst reading a message on her phone. She wanted to avoid eye contact at all costs during this conversation. The slightest of signs could give him an advantage, an edge, an insight into the truth. 

“I asked you first,” replied he, with a cheeky grin on his face. His heart was pounding and he was making a conscious effort to hide the irregular pace and loud noise of his breathing. He was clearly not comfortable with this discussion, but seeing her act so cool, he felt like he had to play along.  

He had nothing to gain from this. Any number she gave him that wasn’t zero, would immediately release a very particular type of jealousy endorphins in his body. Who are these men? How did it happen? What if she enjoyed it more than she’s enjoying it with him? Did she have a one-night stand? These questions would flood his mind every time he undressed her, poison running through his blood every time he put his hands on her. 

Did he honestly believe she was a virgin? That he was her first? Of course not. Obviously not. She was 28 for crying out loud. He knew there were men before him. But it was assumed knowledge. One of those things that you never put time aside to think about. One of those things that probably shouldn’t be talked about. It falls under the same category with your parents or your siblings having sex. They obviously do, but do you think, discuss or visualize it? Nope.

And what if her number was higher than his? What does he do then? Why did he have to ask this damn question?  

She had nothing to gain from this. She didn’t really care with how many women he’s been with before her. All she cared about was for him to love her for who she is now and she wouldn’t let a number ruin it. She could sense they were entering a peculiar territory and that any words, or numbers for that matter could prove damaging beyond repair. She wanted to hear his number so she could adjust her number accordingly. Not because she was ashamed of it, no it wasn’t that. To her, that number was the number of steps she had to take before she found him. And most of those times there was no pleasure in taking those steps. But of course this wasn’t something she was expecting him to understand. Men are just wired differently.

“Why aren’t you telling me?” 

“Why do you want to know? Like, what are you going to do with the information?” 

“I just want to know. Why do you insist on not telling me?” 

“Ok, ok relax…want to know my number? Here it is…”