Help Me Burn the Memory Away

Part 1: The Breakup

My husband had left me shortly before Christmas. He'd found someone else, someone younger, someone who would probably be willing to break their boundaries and acquiesce to his sexual demands.

He'd tried and tried over a series of months to get me to allow a threesome, but I had always had this nagging suspicion in the back of my mind. You see, I think he'd picked the person to fuck before asking me, and that meant that it wasn't a fantasy he wanted fulfilled but rather it was him asking me for permission to cheat.

I suspected it was Natalia from his office, so imagine my surprise when two days after our breakup - two days after he'd ended our six year marriage - my sister had spotted him on a date with her, feeding each other pasta like it was Lady and the fucking Tramp. It was confusing for me because she seemed so different, it made me worry that I was missing something, or that I didn't fit his vision of a wife. I had long, thick, dark hair, brown eyes, and was slightly below average height, whereas Natalia was blonde, and petite with blue eyes. How could I compete if I simply just wasn't what he wanted? Whilst I had spent the days following our breakup wallowing a pit of despair; crying and lamenting the ending of our marriage, he was out there, living his life with the girl he'd always wanted.

It made me so angry, but it also changed my perspective. I quickly went from "I'm not good enough" to "he's incapable of maintaining a relationship". The switch sounds subtle, but the change was enough to help me recover from my feelings of low self worth. It would take a long time to heal from this marriage, but at least now, in my mind, the fault was his and not mine.

I remember the first time he'd asked about bringing a partner into the bedroom. It was approaching Valentines 2023, and we'd had a few days away planned at a beautiful cliffside hotel with a luxurious room and a hot-tub on the balcony. As we were planning the stay, we talked about what we'd bring with us to make our Valentines special. I suggested we bring our camera and take some sexy photos, perhaps record our sex to watch back at a later date; kinky, but something that was well within both of our boundaries. He'd suggested bringing an extra participant.

Our argument was so severe that we barely spoke whilst at the hotel, and we certainly didn't make love. I would not share my marriage bed with another person; when we said our vows, we said them to each other only. I'm certainly not against threesomes, orgies, or anything related to it; after all, if we were still dating, then I'd be open to it. The point is that when we married each other we made a personal and permanent commitment to just each other. He was well aware of this boundary, yet he suggested it anyway.

Whenever I think of Valentines Day, I think of him. I think of the pain he caused me, and the subsequent months of tension that led to the dissolution of our vows. Valentines Day, the day of celebration of love, was now reduced to smoking husk of regret and self-pity.

When I picture his face, instead of the gorgeous rugged features I'd always appreciated, I now imagine his face sneered into a grin, living the life he'd always wanted. I want nothing more than to wipe that grin off his face.

Valentines Day was always such a special occasion for me. My parents had gotten married on Valentines, and so every year from the moment I could perceive it, the day was filled with love, appreciation and gifts. When I first met Kees, he was a romantic. He showered me with affection, and he made Valentines Day special to me - it was finally a celebration of my love, and not the love of my parents. It was as if he'd sensed how much the day meant to me, and he wanted to show me he cared as much too. He'd proposed on Valentines Day as part of a grand display of our love together, and throughout our marriage, he always went all-out on February the 14th. To me, it was the most beautiful day of the year; it was the day I appreciated throughout my childhood, and my entire adulthood so far.

And now he's ruined it.

Yesterday, I awoke at my sister's house to a buzz in the air. I'd been staying with Ada and her husband Christiaan since the breakup. Kees hadn't kicked me out, but I couldn't stand to stay in that house any longer, everything within those walls reminded me how much pain I was in, and if I was going to ever put it behind me, I needed to get away. Ada offering me her guest room couldn't have come at a better time; I jumped at the opportunity.

As I got up and came downstairs, I could see her frying some eggs at the kitchen island, with Chris stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her body. They were singing along to their couple's Spotify playlist, recounting songs from their long history of dating.

Chris looked up and saw me, then immediately stepped back, and switched the music off.

"Sorry, Mila," he'd said, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. It was evidently too early for him to have shaved yet, and I thought the new hair that lined his cheeks and lower face suited him perfectly. He was six feet tall, and with an active physique, floppy light brown hair and a strong chin, so the stubble fit well into his look.

"Don't be sorry on my part," I replied flatly. "Go on about your frolicking."

I hadn't meant for it to come out sarcastically or hurtfully, but based upon their reactions, that's how it had sounded.

"Don't be like that Mi'," Ada said. She brushed her dark hair out of her face with her wrist as she flipped the eggs with the spatula. Her hair was styled slightly differently to mine, but it was of the same thickness and dark colour that obviously ran in our genes. She was slightly shorter than I, but she had a kind and warm energy that filled any room she was in - a stark contrast to the energy I brought into her house.

"I didn't mean it like that," I said, holding my hands up as if caught doing something illegal. "I've just woken up, so the part of my brain that controls my tone hasn't powered up yet. I meant it, go on about your morning, I don't want to bring it down."

"It's okay, the eggs are about done anyway," she said. "Do you want some?"

"I don't feel like eating, sorry." As I said it, she gave me a sympathetic glance, then passed the frying pan to Chris as she walked around the kitchen island and over to me.

"Hey, I hate seeing you like this," she started. "I know I can't expect you to be over Kees yet, but it's important to me that I at least see you trying."

"I am trying. I felt really good yesterday," I said, sitting down upon the sofa. "I just had a dream about our last Valentines, and it made me angry all over again. It's like my mind is torturing me, recounting all our fights."

Ada settled in next to me, and took my hands. Holding my hands gently in one of hers, her other ran her perfectly manicured nails softly across my fingers. "I know how special that day was to you, and I know that Wednesday will be your first Valentines without him."

"You don't understand," I said, taking my hands from hers. "When we were growing up, it was so special, and he's taken all those happy memories and he's torched them. When I think of the day, I don't think of those memories any more, I think of his stupid face, and I think of that bitch Natalia."

Ada sat closer and placed her hand on my back, softly rubbing me up and down, comforting me. "I'm sorry your going through this. I really am."

"Don't be sorry," I snapped without realising how it came out, "you didn't break up with me, he did."

I felt the emotions hit me like a tonne of bricks, I thought they came out of nowhere but Ada could clearly see them bubbling up within me even if I ignored it. The tears began to flow.

Ada looked helplessly over to Christiaan who was plating their breakfast. He locked eyes with her, then slowly closed them and nodded.

"Come here," she said, taking me into her arms as I cried. She was always such a caring big sister, and the caring didn't stop when we left our parent's homes. "I think we just need to take these horrible memories and replace them with something stronger."

"What's stronger than having my entire life fall apart?" I gasped between sobs.

She took a deep breath, then stood, and took my hand. "Follow me."

The tears that streaked down my cheeks had melted away the makeup I'd forgotten to remove last night; I'd look at home with the emo kids we grew up with in the mid 2000's.

She led me upstairs to her bedroom and sat me down on the chair in-front of her makeup table.

"Look in the mirror there," she said. "What do you see?"

"Oh I don't know, some sort of sad panda?" I quipped through tears.

She took some makeup wipes, slid one out of the top of the packet and wiped my face. The makeup stains began to disappear, but so did the tears. She was so gentle with me, I felt like an eight year old again when she used to do my makeup for me, testing out different looks, making me into her perfect little doll.

"How about now?"

"I'm not sure you've wiped away the sadness, but I'm certainly less of a panda."

"You know what I see?"

I turned to look at her, she stood over me, her head tilted to one side.

"I see one of the most beautiful women on the planet, a girl that any person, man or woman would kill to be with. I see someone who's got the world at their feet. I see someone who had tethered themselves to a man who didn't appreciate her, and that she is finally free to do what she wants." She paused. "I also see someone who is fully capable of making her own memories, and not letting that prick of an ex-husband have this much of a hold over her."

Her words had helped. I was not fixed, but somewhere on the horizon a glimmer of hope had appeared, a beacon telling me I was headed somewhere instead of remaining in the stagnant water of my old relationship.

"Christiaan and I have been thinking," she said. "You need a Valentines Day you can remember, one that blows all the other ones out of the water."

"And who, pray tell, am I to spend it with?" I asked dramatically.

"Us."

She let that sit with me.

"What do you mean?"

"Chris and I want you to stay with us Valentines night."

"Haven't you guys booked a hotel in Amsterdam for the night?"

"Yes, and we want you there," she tilted her eyebrows up at the centre, "don't worry, Chris has paid for it already, you've got an adjoining room to us. We're going to spend the day and night together, all three of us."

"I can't do that to you," I protested.

"Too late, it's happening. Wednesday is going to be about you, and only you. Chris and I have discussed it at length. You're coming with us, Mila." When her bossy side came out, Ada was tough to resist.

I scrambled for a reason to back out, desperate for her to allow me to continue my descent into sadness, "so, what I'm going to spend my Valentines day in an adjoining room listening to you two lovebirds fuck against our shared wall? No thank you."

"Mila," she started, taking my hands once more. Here eyes stared into mine, intensely, meaningfully. She wanted to make sure I knew that what she was about to say was not a joke, not a miscommunication. She wanted me to have absolute clarity, and she wanted me to know that it was already decided.

"We're going to fuck you."

--

Part 2: Building Anticipation

Here's the thing about our family: sexually, we're very liberal. It wasn't unheard of for us to discuss sex openly even with our parents growing up. When I came of age, I never understood those friends of mine who struggled to talk with their families about what was going on with them, especially since as the topic went undiscussed, the likelihood of harm increased.

One friend of mine who grew up in a conservative, church-going household ended up in hospital because her family had never taught her how to properly care for herself whilst on her period, she had toxic shock syndrome and had a long recovery. Our parents were the polar opposites of that, no topic was off limits, and that meant we both grew up in a household that was sexually open, but also very safe. Unlike my peers, I wasn't disgusted by the idea of my parents having sex, because it's just a natural thing that is healthy for their relationship and their continued love for each other.

Ada feels very much the same - we're not beholden to the same conservative ways of thinking when it comes to sex. We have our personal boundaries of course, but other than that, everything has a place for discussion.

Even with all that, when my sister told me the plans for Amsterdam, I had this worrying feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was walking aimlessly into a situation that I didn't fully understand. We'd talked about our sex lives with one another ad nauseum over the years, but seeing it, or even participating are very different things. What she had suggested was taboo by our society's standards.

I hadn't immediately replied to her; her proposition had stopped me in my tracks. It was unexpected, and I needed time to digest what she asked of me.

I told her I'd think about it, and she told me to take all the time I need, but that I need to give her an answer by Wednesday morning because the InterCity train leaves around noon, and they were going to be on it, with or without me.

Here's how she'd laid it out; her and Christiaan have a very active love life, and they've both been trying to get someone else involved in their bedroom activities.

The only problem is, Ada is big on trust, she won't let a random one-night-stand into the bedroom because she had no idea who they are or where they've been. Christiaan's also exceptionally picky, he spent a long time dating without any commitments before he met Ada, and he's never looked elsewhere since. He is totally and utterly devoted to her, and for that reason he simply doesn't feel comfortable going out and meeting another woman.

They both watch pornography of threesomes, fetishizing it and fantasizing about introducing someone else into their sex, but both feel unequipped to do the legwork in order to get someone involved.

I'd always been an option for them, but they knew how I felt about doing something like that within the confines of my marriage to Kees, so they'd never asked. When that marriage went away they had the perfect opportunity, and, if they could approach it correctly, an encounter between us had the power to alter how I felt as a newly single woman. To them, it was win-win, provided we could get comfortable enough with the act to go through with it successfully.

It was Sunday morning when Ada had told me the plans, and on Tuesday evening I'd had the realisation that I'd not even thought about Kees since Sunday. His name had disappeared from my mind whilst I ruminated on the proposition. There were so many pro's and con's that I found it difficult to sort through them and solidify my feelings. I knew Ada would look after me, but I didn't want to make things awkward, not least because I was living in their guest room at the moment. Eventually, I decided that I needed to do something to shock my system out of the funk that I was beginning to settle into, I needed a jolt of energy, I needed to mix things up to 'reset' my feelings on everything.

So I packed my things.

I awoke on Wednesday morning with butterflies in my stomach and a nauseating anticipation running through my veins. My sister was beautiful, I'd always admired her, and Christiaan looked like he would be at home in a Calvin Klein advert, but I was just me, plain old me. I'd read some horror stories online about threesomes since Ada had brought it up; what if Chris paid me too much attention and Ada didn't like it? What if I felt out of place and wasn't included as much as I'd hoped? What if this ruined things between Ada and I?

Despite this trepidation, I opened the guest room door when Ada knocked. She was elated when she saw that I'd packed, jumping to hug me.

The InterCity only took around 45 minutes to get to Amsterdam, but Ada spend the whole journey holding my hand and reassuring me that this day was all about me. The problem was, I wasn't sure I wanted all the attention. The way Ada explained it, their goal is to give me such an incredible time, that all thoughts of Valentine's Day return me to the thoughts of love and companionship that I'd grown up with. The phrase she used was that her and Christiaan intended to burn the memory of Kees away, and enjoy themselves thoroughly whilst they did it.

Ada displayed a closeness to me since we embarked on our journey that I'd never felt from her before; she held my hand, kissed my cheek, wrapped her arms around me when I shivered from the cold; onlookers would be forgiven for thinking that we were lovers. Though I suppose we would become lovers before the end of the evening.

Christiaan waited on me hand and foot too, he spent all day telling me how pretty I was, and how much he'd enjoyed seeing me every day since my breakup. He reassured me when feelings of despair began to creep back in when thoughts of Kees inevitably occurred. I'd never felt this way before, Ada and Chris treated me like I was a princess; their princess.

It was Valentine's Day, and I'd thought that this would be the first time in years I'd spent it alone, but I wasn't alone. I hadn't felt alone since we'd left the house. I felt cared for, appreciated, wanted; more-so even than when my relationship with Kees was going strong.

We stepped off the platform when the train arrived in Amsterdam, and began to walk to our hotel. The hotel was a gorgeous old building that felt like it served the royalty and celebrities, it was opulent and grand.

Chris checked in whilst Ada and I waited with our hands clasped around one another.

"How are you feeling, Mi'?"

"Nervous," I admitted.

"There's no need for that," she said, then she positioned herself in front of me, put both arms around my neck and gave me a deep passionate kiss. I felt her tongue enter my mouth gently, teasing mine. She'd never kissed me like that before, it was a kiss for a lover, not for a sister, though my body began to betray that thought by acquiescing to the passion. When our lips parted, I took an deep intake of air, I hadn't realised how her kiss had stolen my breath until I felt my chest barrel.

"Just a little taste for this evening," Ada whispered. "I want you to know how much I want this, and how much you mean to me."

When Christiaan returned, we took the elevator up to the floor our room was on. He looked at me, then placed his hand beneath my chin, placing his thumb gently just beneath my mouth.

"I saw you kissing Ada," he whispered sensually. "It's my turn now."

He leaned in and placed his lips upon mine. If I'd thought for a moment that Ada wanted this more than Chris did, this kiss thoroughly disabused me of that notion. His was every bit as passionate. I noticed Ada's hand creeping into mine as I kissed her husband, and she held me tight as he placed his tongue into my mouth just as she had moments earlier.

The elevator announced it's arrival at our floor, and he slowly broke away from me, recovering the bags from the floor. As the doors slid open, Chris walked out into the hall to locate our rooms.

We walked to the rooms, Ada holding my hand, Chris lugging the overnight bags, and I began to realise that I felt wanted; no, needed. With a simple kiss my sister and her husband had recovered me from the depths of misery, and I finally began to believe that Ada's plan might actually work. I felt like they were going to help me burn the memories of Kees away, just like they'd said.

So, on the walk to the room, I took some deep breaths. I didn't want tonight to feel awkward, because it certainly had the recipe to. I wanted to impress them instead of allowing them to impress me. I didn't want to be a passive participant, I wanted to be involved. For that to happen, the awkwardness between sisters would have to be resolved first.