Don't Explain

fourteen.

A week had passed since things had started to feel good again between Prince and me. The tension from the awkward moment with his wife had dissolved, and we'd settled back into our usual rhythm. He had been sweet, attentive, and more present than usual. Everything seemed to be flowing smoothly, and I was enjoying the ease of it all, the way things were simply... working.

But then, just when I felt like I could breathe, like maybe this was heading in a direction that was more comfortable, more consistent, Prince brought up something that made me pause. It was something that hit me sideways, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than what it seemed on the surface.

We were in my condo, freshly sexed, the air still heavy with the scent of sweat and intimacy. I was lounging on the bed, my body still warm and buzzing from the pleasure we had just shared, when Prince casually brought it up.

"Did you ever get on that IUD?" His voice was low, calm, almost like he was talking about the weather or a business deal.

I blinked, the weight of his question slowly sinking in. My fingers froze in mid-air as I reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond.

"IUD?" I repeated, as if I hadn't heard him correctly.

"Yeah," he said, his tone still maddeningly casual. He was lying on his side, his head propped up on one hand as he looked at me with that familiar nonchalance. "I just think, you know, it might be easier. You wouldn't have to worry about anything. It's safer."

I stared at him, feeling a strange mixture of annoyance and disbelief simmering beneath my skin. I knew exactly what we were doing together, the nature of our arrangement was clear. But it felt weird—no, off—for him to be so involved in my reproductive health like this. It felt almost patronizing, like I couldn't handle this part of my life on my own.

"It's just..." I trailed off, searching for the right words. I didn't want to start an argument, but the whole thing rubbed me the wrong way. "It feels a little... personal, don't you think? For you to be suggesting something like that?"

Prince shrugged, completely unfazed. "I just want to make sure you're good. It's easier than worrying about pills or condoms all the time." He said it like he was doing me a favor, like this was for my own benefit.

I shifted on the bed, the remnants of our earlier intimacy starting to feel distant. My mind flashed back to New York, to that time when he handed me the Plan B pill after one of our weekends together. It was supposed to be an easy fix, but it felt just as patronizing back then as it did now. Like he was looking out for himself more than he was for me.

"Yeah, I get that," I said, my voice tight. "But it's still my body, Prince. It's weird for you to be suggesting something like this. I can handle it."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not seeing the issue the way I did. "I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just saying it would be easier for both of us."

The way he said it, like it was all so simple, made my skin prickle with irritation. This wasn't just about birth control or convenience. It was about control—my control. And it bothered me that he thought he could wade into this part of my life without a second thought.

"I don't know," I said, sitting up a little straighter, my voice firm. "It just feels... like you're overstepping."

Prince's expression didn't change much, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe surprise, maybe a hint of frustration. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I can look out for myself." The words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't regret them.

There was a brief silence between us, and I could feel the weight of the conversation settling like a heavy blanket over the room. Prince didn't say anything for a moment, just watched me with those unreadable eyes of his. And I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking back to that moment in New York, the same way I was.