The Terrible Two

**2008**
They say the first year of marriage is the worst and most decisive for every newlywed. But our first year was wonderful. I decided to start college the following year, and Carlos got a raise, so we were able to buy our own car. I started taking a German course to fill up my time. The good part was that we always had time to be together, we had all our meals at home, and we seemed like two lovebirds, now with a bit more moderation, although it was hard for me to keep my hands off him. But as I said... our first year was wonderful... at least until that wedding anniversary dinner.
"Happy two years," says Carlos, kissing me as the waiter pours red wine into my glass.
"Happy two years," I respond, raising my glass. I savor the dinner, curious to know what he's planning because we had agreed to spend all our wedding anniversaries at home with an intimate celebration. "The dinner is marvelous."
"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Carlos replies enigmatically. I stare at him, trying to imagine what the dinner means: either it's a huge mistake, which would explain why we're in a public place, preventing me from killing him or causing a Dália Penedo Salazar-worthy scene. Or he has wonderful news befitting this dinner. "What is it, Dália?"
"I'm wondering what this wedding anniversary dinner means," I calmly respond. "I know you didn't bring me here just for the anniversary. So what is it?"
"Alright... I can't fool you," Carlos concludes. He touches my hand and brings it to his lips while looking at me sweetly. "I'm being considered for a partnership in the company."
"No way?!" I say, surprised. Carlos has been talking about this opportunity for months, but the owner never gave any definite assurance, despite my husband revolutionizing the place and boosting sales. I might be biased, but without my husband, that place is nothing. "And now? What do you need to do?"
"Now I need to create a project and then implement it. I'm thinking of expanding the network to other countries... I have several ideas, and... I'm afraid of choosing the wrong one," Carlos confesses, worried. "Not to mention that this will increase my workload, meaning it will reduce our time together. And I brought you here because I want to make this decision with you since our marriage will be the most affected by it."
"Thank you for considering us," I confess, holding back tears. The fact that Carlos prioritized our relationship made me realize how much he loves me. "But I think you should accept. It's a unique opportunity, and I don't want you to miss out. Our marriage will be fine because I'll do everything I can to make sure nothing affects us."
"I will do everything I can to make sure nothing affects us too," Carlos promises.
As soon as we arrive home, Carlos lifts me up in his arms and carries me to the bedroom. Kissing me, he lays me on the bed and unzips my black dress. He kisses my shoulders slowly while I unbutton his shirt and touch his chest. He presses his body against mine, guiding us toward the bed. His touch explores me with desire. He carefully enters my body while caressing my lips as if I were a precious gem discovered.
"Nothing will affect us," Carlos whispers, admiring the promise made during dinner. "Nothing..."
"I love you," I reply, kissing him immediately after.
We make love that night, slowly, as if it were our last night together...
***
The theory doesn't work in practice... and that's what happened with our promise. With the opportunity to become a partner, Carlos increased his workload to the point where I couldn't see him during the week. He would leave for work at 7 a.m. when I was still asleep and return at eleven or midnight when I was asleep again. I only talked to my husband on Sundays, if I can even call it a conversation since we would only talk about his project. But since it's important to Carlos, it's important to me too.
At first, everything was fine because I had German classes three times a week, and college took up a good part of my time. There, I met Filomena, and we bonded over our addiction to life simulation games. We would always talk about the game, exchange tips, and eventually started discussing our lives. Like me, Filomena also got married at a young age, which made her my friend and confidante. I would vent to her about Carlos's absence.
"This is called routine," Filomena says as the waiter serves her watermelon juice. "When Antônio and I reached the two-year mark, it was the same: the fire dies down, eye contact disappears, and before you know it, you're sleeping in that old shirt, with messy hair, while he has that big lazy belly. That's when we turn into our parents."
"Gosh, Filomena," I say, banging the table. "Don't jinx it like that."
"How long has it been since you last had sex?" Filomena asks bluntly.
"It's been much longer; we've never been like this... I can't believe we're turning into that," I say sadly. "I don't care about that, but I care about the fact that we're so distant... we used to spend hours talking. Now, the only topic we have is... work and partnership..."
"Think positively: at least you have time to play with me," Filomena says, trying to cheer me up.
"Yeah," I responded dejectedly. "That's the only thing I've been doing that motivates me."
"Unless you're interested in something more... intriguing," Filomena suggests, looking at me mischievously.
"What do you suggest?" I ask, curious.
"A few months ago, I started playing Red Light Center, which is a game similar to the one we play," Filomena explains.
"That's cool; why didn't you tell me about this game?" I ask.
"Well, that's where the 'almost' part comes in," Filomena responds. "It's a very similar game, but in this one, you can have virtual sex. You can explicitly have sex with other players. And, knowing you, I know you don't find much appeal in that."
"You're right. What's the fun in having virtual sex with someone?" I question. I've always enjoyed skin-to-skin contact and didn't see much appeal in virtual sex, at most, I would exchange erotic messages with my husband.
"Just know that a lot of people do it and participate in this game. Even some people from our college," Filomena confesses. "I even had sex with our criminal law professor there."
"I can't believe it! How did you know it was him?" I ask, surprised.
"law.madrid22cm, a pretty obvious nickname, I must say," Filomena replies, laughing.
"What's your username?" I ask, eating my croissant.
"Why don't you join the game and find out," Filomena responds, trying to provoke me.
"No, thanks," I reply, shaking my head. "I'm quite satisfied with my games."
"Suit yourself," Filomena responds. "I'll be waiting for your call behind the website."
"Well, you better get some rest because it's going to take a while," I retort, laughing.
***
I arrive home, and as usual, no sign of Carlos. I enter my room and turn on my computer, letting it log into my game while I take a shower. As I sink into the bathtub, I wonder if this situation will be like this forever. This is exactly the kind of situation I didn't want in my marriage. I finish my shower and put on my robe, heading to the computer, which, to my surprise, didn't log into the game.
I take a deep breath and try two more times, getting the same message. If Filomena were here, she would say it's a sign for me to look for the game. I open the browser, searching for any news about the game issue, but I find no updates. I'm about to close the browser when my curiosity takes over: should I take a look at the website? It will only prove that I'm right.
"Red Light Center..." I say as I type the name in the search bar. It doesn't take long for several results to appear, with the game's official website being the first one. I stare at the screen, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as if I'm doing something wrong. I take a deep breath and double-click on the game's link. "Okay, Dália, here we go."
I hear the front door open... keys are placed in the bowl... steps into the kitchen... the fridge opens... the cabinet door opens... a sound of glass shattering on the floor...
"Shit!" Carlos curses quietly.
I close the window without even looking at the website and go to the kitchen, where I find Carlos picking up the broken glass. He looks up and smiles awkwardly.
"Hey, stranger," I greet my husband, standing in the doorway.
"Hi, Dália," Carlos responds, tossing the glass shards into the trash bag. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You didn't wake me up; I just got out of the shower," I reply, smiling. I hug Carlos, catching a whiff of the perfume I gave him on our anniversary. Feeling him like this, I realize how much I miss him being here in our home. "I'm glad you came home earlier."
"Yeah," Carlos says, stepping away from the hug. He grabs another glass from the cabinet and pours some water while saying, "But it's because of Elson; he kept bugging me to go to the guys' party, so I just came to change clothes, and I'm already leaving." He finishes and heads to the bedroom.
"Wait a minute," I ask, irritated, following him. "What party? Why didn't you tell me? I don't even know if I have something to wear."
"Well..." Carlos starts, opening the wardrobe. He turns to face me, nervous, trying to find the right words. "It's a party... but it's just for the guys... you know... those boring guys' hangouts... it's going to be like that... you understand, right?"
"No, I don't understand," I respond, seriously. Actually, I don't understand at all. Is it just my impression, or is Carlos replacing me to hang out with his friends? I sit on the bed and cross my arms, closing myself off, as I say, "I want you to explain this whole thing about going to a party single with your friends."
"Dália..." Carlos says, running his hand over his face. "Single? Everyone knows I'm married to you."
"Then if EVERYONE knows that you're married to me, they should also know that they need to invite me too," I retort, angry.
"So, the problem is Elson?" Carlos asks, irritated.
"It's not possible that out of everything I said to you, the only thing you heard was about Elson," I say, angry. "Carlos, the problem is that we're growing more and more distant! And you're not making any effort to be together!"
"And what about you? Are you making an effort, Dália?" Carlos asks, sharply. "Are you?"
"I'm always here, Carlos... every day... from Monday to Sunday... I wait for you... I make lunch that you won't eat... dinner that you eat alone in the early morning... I get ready at night, waiting for the love of my life to lie down next to me and fall asleep, completely ignoring me. I cancel all the reservations, dinners at friends' houses, and my parents' houses... I listen to your work conversations exhaustively..."
"I'm trying too... I'm working to give us a better life, the life I promised you," Carlos says. "This argument actually revealed one thing to me: You need a distraction... maybe a child."
"Carlos, having a child won't solve anything! I want you, do you understand? You!" I shout, raising my arms. I take a deep breath and continue, "You're right, fighting doesn't solve anything. You need to distract yourself... go to the party."
"Dália..." Carlos calls my name. He approaches me, pulling me closer and embracing me. "I'm sorry, I love you." He touches my hair and kisses my forehead. "I promise I'll be more present at home, okay?"
"Okay," I reply, biting my lip. "Have fun."
"Will you be okay?" Carlos asks, concerned.
"Yes, I just need a good night's sleep," I reply, touching his shirt.
"Alright," Carlos responds, stepping back. He grabs a change of clothes and says, "I'll get ready in the other room. I promise I won't come back too late."
"Okay."
"I love you," Carlos says, stealing a quick kiss and heading to the other room.
I look at my computer with our photo from Paris as the screensaver. I close the door to my room and walk towards the desk, opening the browser again, restoring my last window. In red and gold letters, illuminating my room, the website appears:
**Red Light Center
Adult Virtual World**