Earlier

I opened my eyes to darkness. Upon a second blink, street and market lights grew into focus. A familiar face hovered over mine, too close for my liking. His facial muscles relaxed when our eyes met, and he backed off. My fingers twitched as a sticky substance coated my hand. Was I bleeding?

I brought my palm to my nose, but it smelled like mango.

Ice cream.

Derek.

When I tried to sit up, the world rushed around me and blackened again, but not before a warm embrace encircled me as the surrounding noise grew hazy.

"Sadie." His voice was a distant whisper.

How many times had I woken up to that sound or been reassured by it? I couldn't focus on that because what he'd done last eviscerated all his past support.

"Sadie."

"Go away," I muttered. I jerked back, my awareness slowly returning.

"Not until I know you're okay. You hit your head."

Just my luck. This guy looked like a hero for lingering, even though he'd caused the fall. A dull throb came from my brain to confirm his words.

I sighed and opened my eyes. A few people stared at us as they passed, but otherwise, we hadn't drawn a crowd. I scooted free of him. "I'm okay."

"Where are you staying?"

"Nice try. Not falling for that."

He readjusted his black-framed glasses. "I'm only helping you get home. Are you staying with anyone?"

He had no right to know who was in my life. "I don't like these invasive questions."

He massaged his forehead before meeting my gaze. "And I want to know I'm leaving you with someone who can help if your condition gets worse. More than just a dorm mate you've talked to twice who won't care how long you're passed out on the bottom bunk."

I didn't miss his need to assert how right he was, and I stayed quiet, unwilling to tell him anything about Tiger. Neil was not in a state to meet my ex or take care of me, and to be honest, I dreaded facing him.

Confessing I had romantic feelings for him had taken enough guts, and his complete lack of response hurt. If I showed up woozy, he might not even notice or care if he was in his Ally melancholy bubble. Not that I could blame the guy. I would have been a wreck if Derek had found someone months after our split. I'd known he was sleeping around post-breakup, but that was different. No part of that aspect of our relationship appealed to me.

"I can walk back. It's fine." Artie and Helen would let me stay for a cuppa if I needed space to build up my courage to face Neil.

"You passed out twice, Sadie. Please, let me drive you home."

I sat up slowly and remained quiet, hoping my stubbornness would send him on his way, but he stayed. It was a good quality for a nurse, but annoying in an ex I wanted to avoid.

"Can I bring you to the hospital?"

I shook my head, which was growing clearer. I wasn't about to blow my hard-earned money on an insurance deductible or risk not being covered unless I was on death's doorstep. If Derek's first instinct wasn't to send me there, I must be fine. He'd seen me fall and worked in the medical field.

"Three options, Sadie: home, hospital, or my hotel. I care about you too much to let you pass out alone in the dark."

I had a few nasty lines about how he could oust me from our two-year relationship and reappear to claim he gave a shit, but all I managed was, "Your hotel?"

"Technically, it's an option, even though I know you'll disagree, and I can't blame you for that."

The ground I was sitting on felt harder and more uncomfortable than it had a second ago. My achy muscles reminded me I hadn't lain in a bed in months after relying on my tent for so long. He probably had air conditioning too, not that it should make up for having to spend time with him. But he knew I was ace and came to find me anyway. He shouldn't be expecting some 'I miss you' hookup. It would also give me the advantage of knowing how to avoid him in the future since he'd tracked me down somehow.

"Not for the night."

"Just till you're feeling clear-headed and get more fluids, then I can drop you off wherever or you can walk if you're that dead set on it." He didn't flicker his gaze or scratch his wrist like he did was when he was nervous and lying.

"Are you staying far from here?" Broome wasn't huge, but it was reassuring to know the distance I was working with.

"Two minutes down the road. I almost walked, but now I'm glad I didn't."

"Okay, fine." My stomach rumbled, reminding me of the miserable meal with Neil. "You have snacks, right?"

"We can pick something up, my treat."

Normally I wouldn't take his charity, but my half-meals weren't cutting it, and I'd spent far too much on food today. I'd consider it an emotional distress tax. My poor ice cream lay in a puddle next to Derek's. He must have dropped them when I fainted.

We grabbed a kebab from a food truck that I wolfed down before we reached his car. It had a rental sticker on it, which meant he'd probably flown in as a lot of Perth companies didn't like you driving their vehicles this far north. A sedan also meant that he wasn't exploring much of the Kimberly outback region beyond Broome. 

As we settled into the sedan, the comfy seats and cooled air reminded me of how tired I was. I'd gotten up early, spent the morning on the boat, made lunch, shopped for ingredients at the market and store, prepped, and only had a few minutes to rest. A sip from the water bottle Derek insisted on buying smoothed the sharp edges of my headache.

After a few blocks, where the shop fronts were replaced with green yards populated with palm trees and dusty driveways, he pulled up at a two-story historical hotel called the Pearly Gates after Broome's pearling history. The name was extra macabre knowing how lethal the trade could be especially for the enslaved Aboriginal people forced to be divers to enrich those who'd driven them off their land.

Some sections of the hotel had white corrugated iron walls, and wooden lattice walls around the veranda. My shoulders tensed. What were the odds that of all the hotels in Broome, he'd chosen this one?

The greenery-surrounded veranda where I spent my breaks on slower afternoons when the guests were out touring was far too familiar. He must have checked in today if we hadn't crossed paths since it had been Tiger and I's day off. Work tomorrow would be awkward and worse if someone at the front desk or another guest recognized me now.

To my good fortune, Madison was on one of her many smoke breaks, so I sneaked to the room undetected. Before Derek unlocked the door, I exhaled in relief, knowing that behind it would be two double beds. Not that I planned on sleeping here. I would just enjoy stretching out solo on something softer than outback soil and a foam mat.

Once inside, I lay on the four-post bed closest to the door. The pillow smelled like him, and as much as I longed to hate it, it revived the good memories. Breakfast in bed, cuddling for hours, planning this trip between kisses and snuggles.

They weren't all pleasant, Sadie. Don't you remember burying your face to hide your tears or curling into a ball of shame because your body recoiled at what every other person and animal managed without issue since their existence?

Damaged. Broken. Defective.

No, you're asexual. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Derek settled on the other bed, his eyes on me. "Keep hydrating. I remember how easily you forget about drinking all day."

I didn't want to out of spite, but it'd get me out of his hair faster and it would make me feel better. Once I'd finished the bottle, he filled it for me again and placed it on a coaster on the round antique table between our beds.

"Tell me about your trip," he said.

"After you tell me how you found me."

I posted pictures after I'd left my place of travel, without a location tag, or randomly to avoid being tracked down and had my profiles set to private. I only kept in touch with my close friends and family, and he had lost his spot on that list.

"Don't be mad, but I got it out of Trevor."

"Trevor doesn't know." Then I remembered who he was dating. "Son of a—"

"Michelle got smashed and told him. She swore him to secrecy, but then a few weeks ago he was drunk when we were video chatting and..." Derek scratched his neck.

"You found out about everything."

"He blurted out the asexuality thing first. Once I researched it, I needed to see you and begged them for help."

I couldn't decide if it was terrifying or a relief that Derek knew about it. At least it spared my need to explain it or anticipate his reaction. Ironically, this was the conversation I'd wanted to have with Neil before his world crumbled. Perhaps if Derek wasn't repulsed by it, Neil wouldn't mind either.

"Why?"

"To apologize."

I doubted he flew across the country for that, but it would be nice to hear one.

"When we were having issues with intimacy, I took it personally. I thought if I could fix them, I'd save our relationship. When it didn't work, I assumed that reflected your feelings about me and us, and I lashed out. I should have never directed my anger at you."

Looking back, I wish I'd had the confidence to advocate for myself, to tell him his needs caused me distress and mine were being ignored. I hadn't seen them as needs then but as personal failures. At least now I could defend myself. "I needed therapy after you."

"I'm so sorry, Sadie."

"You kept searching for cures like I had some kind of sickness. Our last conversation—as I bawled my eyes out and begged you to reconsider—was 'I can't take my dream vacation with a damaged woman who refuses to accept she has a problem'. When I got help for it, I found out you were the one with the problem."

My hands shook uncontrollably as I pictured myself: head buried in my knees to keep the pain and shame from flowing out like an angry volcano in that unsuspecting therapist's office. She was so patient and gentle through it all. I wouldn't be where I was today if it wasn't for her advice.

Derek took his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt, a nervous tic since otherwise, he'd always use the proper cloth. "I've done a lot of reading and thought about how problematic my assumptions were, how I asked you to do things, even knowing they made you uncomfortable."

He was saying the right things, but the pain of the words he threw at me during the break-up burned strongly.

"I can't forget what you did, Derek. I was trying in our relationship, and I loved you. Every time we slept together, no matter how shitty it seemed to you, I was trying. Every time I listened to your next plan, even though I wanted to run away and cry because I knew it would fail or I couldn't do it, I was trying."

"Did you know you were ace then?"

I shook my head. "I thought asexuality was for people who never wanted a relationship, or who didn't enjoy making out with their significant others, or who rarely or never had sex. Plus, my friends admitted they weren't as satisfied by sex as other things, so I believed I was like them, just with more anxiety. I kept pushing myself to fit into the normalized sexual world since it's what society expected girlfriends to do. I hated myself for dreading every minute."

His shoulders hunched as he met my gaze. "You hated it all?"

I paused. It would be easy to devastate him with a lie, but he travelled here to be honest with me. "No, I wouldn't have stayed two years if I did. I liked snuggling during movie nights, hiking and cycling together, how you'd make me supper and comfort me after a long day at work, how you'd surprise me with baked goods."

He sighed and spoke in a wistful tone. "I can't pass a bakery without thinking about you lately."

I drank more water, hoping it would speed along this process. It was too dangerous to get sucked into his world. It was easy to defend myself after erecting so many walls, but if they cracked, I wasn't sure I'd have the strength.

Derek leaned forward, reducing the distance from where he faced me on the other bed. "Do you ever imagine what would have happened if we took this trip together?"

Don't you dare vacate the present and give into a heartbroken daydream, Sadie! You're stronger than that. Deal with the real version of this man.

"I used to, but it didn't take long to enjoy travelling on my own more."

He smiled. "You seem quite confident."

I wasn't sure of his intention, but it sounded like a compliment.

He ran a hand through his black hair, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "I think about you more than I expected to. How happy we used to be, but also how I hurt you."

"I mostly think about the latter if you come to mind."

Derek's forehead wrinkled, and he stared at his knuckles. "I can't believe in all my searching while we were together asexuality never came up."

"You considered it a temporary problem, not an unchangeable identity. You won't find the answers you're not looking for." And in doing so, he'd convinced me of the same, which was a big regret.

He met my eyes. "I've looked into relationships between sexual and asexual people. They make it work, even long term. A lot of them are really happy."

My skin prickled like I was walking along a forest's edge, and something was about to pounce. From interacting with people in asexuality forums, I knew he wasn't completely wrong. Some asexual people were sex favourable, where they embraced or accepted a sexual relationship with their partner. While they didn't experience sexual attraction, the acts caused them no distress, and some enjoyed it.

But he was discounting asexual people like me who'd suffered trying to suppress their identity and who were still healing from those relationships. I'd heard that your attitude toward sex could change over time as an asexual person, but I didn't see that happening with Derek.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You told Michelle our biggest problem was we didn't communicate well enough. I understand where you're coming from, and I want to change for you." His voice cracked like it did when we'd accept another defeat about our abysmal sex life.

He didn't truly think he'd be happy, did he? I couldn't be.

"It wouldn't work out. Our past is too painful for me. I want my next relationship to be on a clean slate."

"I'd be a different person, Sadie. My past ignorance can't be erased, but I'll do better. I'll be okay with however much intimacy you're comfortable with."

"Even if that means no sex?" He would never agree to that.

He rubbed his socked feet together. "We weren't exactly active at the end."

"It was more than I was comfortable with."

Derek's dark eyebrows furrowed. "Really? That was only once a month if that."

By that point, I'd felt physically ill even after just making out, so we'd stop. I'd blamed the food I ate, but my therapist suggested it was anxiety built up from forcing myself through the acts in the past and from fear of failure. It didn't negate my asexuality, but it put me closer to sex-averse than I'd been at the start of our relationship.

"My need to not be expected to have sex is as important as your need to have it."

He scratched at his wrist and frowned. "I get that, but..." There it was. Despite his discoveries and apologies, his needs wouldn't change. But I couldn't fault him for that as he couldn't change them any more than I could change mine.

"Some people's desires contradict each other."

"We can find a compromise."

"I don't want to compromise on that, and it's not fair to ask you to either. There are seven billion other people on this planet, Derek. You'll find someone. It's just not me."

Derek threaded his fingers together and stared at his hands. "I've been with other women, but I miss you, Sadie. Why do you think I flew here? I know we can fix us, and I'm willing to try. Why aren't you?"

"There are days I miss you too, Der. We went through a lot, but I don't want a relationship that needs fixing." His eyes met mine, and I fought every urge to hug him. "My mental health is better without you, and I value myself more. I can't risk losing that."

"It would be different."

"It wouldn't. At the market, you assumed I wanted you to pay for my ice cream and kept following me after I'd walked away. I just told you how I feel about getting back together, and you're still trying to change my mind. Those are boundaries, and you've treated them like obstacles to overcome when they're not. I've made my decision, and I'm asking you to respect that if you care about me like you say you do."

"There's nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"If you really care about me, you'll let me move on."

Silence hung in the room like a cobweb, then Derek sighed. "If that's what you want. Okay."

"I'm going to go."

He sat up taller. "Can I give you a ride?"

"It's better if you don't. Thanks for the apology. It helps restore a bit of my faith in humanity."

After I'd slipped on my shoes at the door and hazarded a glance at him, Derek's voice echoed the defeated sensation I'd carried around for months. Hopefully, his wouldn't be as painful as mine. "Bye, Sadie."

When I clicked the doorknob shut behind me, everything felt lighter. I headed to Town Beach, only checking my phone when I was at a suitable distance from the hotel. I missed an apology text from Neil fifteen minutes ago. My ego had impeded me from seeing that he was drowning and needed a hand up, not dismissing me.

I smiled as I walked as fast as I could in my sandals to meet him. 

Photo credits: top left Tim Mossholder, top right Tinus Marte, middle right Gilberto Olimpio, bottom left  Alysha Rosly from Unsplash

I've researched different elements of asexuality to confirm what I'm presenting here, as well as drawn on my experience, but if you spot anything that seems off please let me know. Asexuality varies from person to person so what is true for one may be different for the next. Thanks for reading and supporting the story!