Reflection

"Hey." Sophie touched her shoulder. "First of all, there's no such thing as normal. Second, just because you dated Sebastian doesn't mean you're straight. Sexuality is fluid. Maybe you're bi. Maybe you're gay and didn't realize it. Maybe you're just attracted to this specific person."

"I didn't even like sex with Sebastian," Bianca blurted out, then immediately wished she could take it back.

But Sophie just nodded. "I know."

"You know?"

"Bianca, you're my best friend. I could tell. Every time you talked about him, you never sounded happy. You sounded... obligated."

The word landed like a stone in Bianca's chest because it was true.

She thought back to her relationship with Sebastian. Two years of dating someone who took and took without giving anything back. He'd had money—not rich, but comfortable enough to always pay for dates, to have a nice apartment, to make her feel like she should be grateful he chose her.

Sex had been quick, perfunctory, always on his schedule. He'd never asked what she wanted, never checked if she was enjoying herself. Afterward, he'd roll over and fall asleep while she lay there wondering if something was wrong with her.

"He made me feel broken," Bianca said quietly. "Like I was frigid or couldn't relax or something. He'd get frustrated when I didn't... when I couldn't..."

"Orgasm?" Sophie supplied gently.

Bianca nodded, her cheeks burning. "He said most girls came easily for him. That I was 'in my head too much.' Like it was my fault."

"That asshole." Sophie's voice turned hard. "You know that's bullshit, right? He was a selfish lover who didn't care about your pleasure."

"I thought maybe I just wasn't sexual. That I didn't like sex." Bianca met Sophie's eyes. "But what if it wasn't me? What if it was just him?"

"Exactly." Sophie squeezed her hand. "So maybe this is your chance to find out what you actually like. With someone who seems to know what they're doing and actually cares about consent."

Bianca pulled up her laptop again and showed Sophie some of the articles she'd been reading. They went through them together, Sophie occasionally adding commentary from her own limited experience.

One article talked about how BDSM required more communication than vanilla relationships. Partners discussed boundaries explicitly, checked in during scenes, prioritized aftercare. It was the opposite of what Bianca had experienced with Sebastian—instead of assuming and taking, it was about asking and giving.

"Listen to this part," Sophie said, reading from the screen. "'Many submissives report that power exchange helps them let go of control they carry in other parts of their lives. In a scene, they don't have to make decisions or worry about performance. They can simply exist and feel.'"

Bianca thought about her life. Working at Coffee Corner for barely enough to survive. Managing her mother's medical care on a shoestring budget. Taking the bus everywhere because she couldn't afford a car. Carrying the weight of impossible financial problems on her shoulders every single day.

She was always in control because she had to be—no one else was going to fix her problems.

What would it feel like to let someone else take control, even for a little while? To not have to decide or plan or worry?

The thought sent a strange flutter through her chest.

"There's something else bothering you," Sophie said, watching her face. "What is it?"

Bianca closed the laptop. "What if I like it?"

"So?"

"So then what does that make me? What if I discover I like being submissive or... or being with a woman? What does that mean about who I am?"

Sophie set down her wine glass and took both of Bianca's hands. "It means you're human. It means you're learning about yourself. It doesn't change who you are—it just helps you understand yourself better."

"My mom..." Bianca's voice caught. "What would she think?"

"Your mom loves you. Period. End of story." Sophie's grip tightened. "And honestly? She'd probably be relieved that you're not with Sebastian anymore."

Despite everything, Bianca laughed. Elena had never liked Sebastian, though she'd been too polite to say so directly. She'd just made subtle comments about how he didn't make Bianca smile enough.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Sophie asked the real question.

"So what are you going to do?"

Bianca stood and walked to her window, looking out at the city lights. Somewhere out there, her mother was hooked up to machines that were slowly failing to keep her alive. Somewhere out there, Anna Adams was waiting for an answer.

"I'm curious," Bianca admitted, saying it out loud for the first time. "I'm terrified and overwhelmed and completely out of my depth. But I'm curious."

"About the BDSM? Or about Anna?"

"Both." Bianca turned to face her friend. "Is that crazy? Is it insane that part of me actually wants to try this?"

"No." Sophie smiled. "I think it's brave. And I think maybe you're finally letting yourself want something for you, not just because someone else needs it."

The words settled over Bianca like a blanket. Sophie was right. For the first time in years, she was considering doing something not out of obligation or desperation, but out of genuine curiosity.

Yes, she needed the money for her mother. Yes, that was the catalyst. But if she was being honest with herself, the financial aspect wasn't the only thing making her consider Anna's offer.

She was intrigued by Anna—her confidence, her directness, the way she made Bianca feel seen in a way Sebastian never had. She was curious about BDSM, about whether surrendering control might actually feel good instead of frightening. She was wondering if maybe, possibly, she'd been attracted to women all along and just never let herself notice.

"I think I'm going to call her," Bianca said.

Sophie raised her wine glass. "To curiosity."

"To curiosity," Bianca echoed, clinking her glass against Sophie's.

She didn't know what would happen next. Didn't know if this was the best decision or the worst mistake of her life. But for the first time since Sebastian had left her feeling broken and inadequate, Bianca felt something stirring inside her that felt like hope.

Not just desperate hope for her mother's survival.

But hope that maybe, just maybe, she was about to discover who she really was underneath all the fear and obligation.

And that was worth exploring.