I would like to understand better what you actually believe, and – what you want to believe, what attitude towards sex you'd prefer me to have. 

She sighs heavily. She's still hiding.

I guess that's only fair.

Okay. What she actually believes, what she wants to believe, what attitude she wants Élie to have. Are those three separate questions? She doesn't want to believe something that isn't true. Except that apparently she does, given that she can see that her model leaves several key facts unexplained, and she's been deliberately avoiding looking at those facts too hard, even though they're obvious enough that she already knows what some of them are without even looking, because the story she has now is comfortable, and the facts that don't fit it are not comfortable.

But her story isn't comfortable for Élie, and if they're going to talk about things and line up their stories, they do need to find one that works for both of them.

What I actually believe, then. I don't... not believe any of that, exactly? I think there are a lot of people it's true of, a lot of women who primarily enjoy sex because it demonstrates their value to someone they care about, and who they want to care about them. I guess it seems pretty undeniable that there are also people it's not true for, and that... it certainly doesn't seem to provide a complete explanation of everything I do and feel in this area. I think maybe it did once. And I didn't think it was a bad story then. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable way for things to work. It still seems like a pretty reasonable way for things to work. It just doesn't seem to be a complete explanation of how things actually work.

I guess maybe the facts that don't fit with it, and that I've been avoiding looking too hard at - well, I guess maybe some of them are the sorts of things that would be important to you, the way some of the ones you don't want to look at might be important to me. So I ought to look at them at least enough to tell you, and really also enough to determine whether they're even all that bad, once they're already being looked at.

I... do like having sex with you. Obviously. I like being wanted, and I like feeling beautiful and desirable, and I like being able to give you incredible experiences, and I want you to adore me and count yourself lucky to have me - and right now I am most acutely missing being wanted and feeling beautiful, but that isn't the complete list of the reasons I like having sex with you, is it. 

...I guess I should probably try to list the rest of the reasons, shouldn't I, that's the reasonable thing to do here, but it's really surprisingly hard to do, not in the sense that I don't know them - I mean, I haven't thought about this very hard, so I guess I actually probably don't know all of them, but mostly I mean in the sense that it doesn't really feel like the sort of thing you ought to come out and say. But that doesn't really make any sense, does it, if nobody else can hear it and you want to hear it and we are, after all, married.

Oh. He really loves her. 

Sweetheart, I'm luckier than I thought possible. 

And it's really hot when you tell me exactly what you're feeling in lots of detail including the embarrassing parts. – That sounded flippant but I meant it. You understand yourself much more clearly than almost anyone else I've ever met. You know who you are – and you care about actually knowing, about getting it right – and you're willing to share that person with me. Before we were married, I'd never thought I'd have something like that with anyone. Hadn't hoped for it. I'm not sure I believed it was possible. 

...sorry for interrupting you. I just wanted to say that. 

Oh.

She comes out hiding enough to smile at him. She's still not not embarrassed, but that is very much how she wants him to feel, and maybe if being a little embarrassed makes him feel it, then it's all right to be a little embarrassed. Embarrassment isn't really so bad if it isn't a sign that you're messing something up horribly.

"This is silly, isn't it," she says, aloud, and takes a deep breath. "I like having sex with you because it feels nice. Also. There."

"I endeavor to give satisfaction." 

Snort. The tips of her ears are red. "Well I've noticed a lot of satisfaction. - that wasn't sarcastic, did it sound sarcastic? I just mean that when it happens it's really nice. I like it. Uh. I know you just said that details are good, and I think if you think so then I don't mind you having them, but I haven't really been thinking about this because it didn't seem - like something I wanted to think too hard about - so I think I may have reached the limit of things that I already knew while not really looking at them. Probably if I spend any time actually looking at them then I'll notice more information than just the fact that it's nice, but I haven't done that, so right now I just have the obvious thing. - I am not at all sure that I agree with you that I understand myself more clearly than anyone you've ever met, but I guess now that I say that I'm not sure who in particular I know you to have met who I think obviously outclasses me, it just seems like there ought to be someone."

She's rambling. But he's probably used to that, by now, there's no call to feel any more embarrassed about it.

"It's possible I've met people who have a better understanding themselves, but they don't tell me about it, and that's important too. Besides, I really do think you have unusually little – dissonance, within yourself. You must have noticed – when I've decided I'm being a bad husband, my first three or four impulses are to feel terrible about it, at which point I'll try to convince myself I'm really not so bad, and only when I've gotten over myself will I do anything about the problem. You just try to fix it." 

"...well. Little sense in not at least trying. I don't know that I always do it immediately. And I'm not sure that's the same thing as knowing yourself very well? Doing something about it when you do notice isn't the same as noticing in the first place."

"In my experience, most people do a great deal of work not to notice at all." 

"Maybe."

Okay, now she's back to wanting Elie to want her, and to bask in the evidence like a dragon with a particularly silly treasure hoard. There's gotta be a way to make this happen that isn't awful. They're supposedly very clever people, and this doesn't seem like it ought to be an unsolvable problem.

You said it's really hot when I tell you exactly what I'm feeling.

If Naima was looking at his face right now, she might see the slightest hint of a blush. 

"I like it when you show that you trust me. And that you know what you want." 

I don't think I know everything I want. I'll give it a shot, though. At the risk of sacrificing anything approaching subtlety, I am wondering right now whether talking about what I want and what I'm thinking provides an alternative way of seducing you, as confusing as that taste seems. I think I still want to collect a probably unreasonable amount of evidence that you still want me. I think that you're incredibly considerate, and have far more self control and commitment to principle than most people, and that these are some of your very best qualities. But also, it's been eight months, and I'd like to believe - I mean, I'm hoping - that you were missing something during them. 

And what the hell, she can kiss the part of his neck that's accessible and see if that gets anything in the way of a reaction. Empiricism demands taking at least a few risks in the course of collecting evidence.

I was, I did, I – I think I've had too many chances in my life to practice not wanting things I've decided I can't have. I could let that skill atrophy, hmm? 

You could. I mean, I guess it might be unpleasant the next time it comes up, and I guess you probably shouldn't weigh my opinions about your feelings higher than your own opinions about your feelings, but if you'd really just as well, or you're deliberately trying to be considerate by not wanting things - I like it when you want things. 

Élie experiences twenty seconds of panic, tilts Naima's head up, and kisses her. 

Sweetheart. This is really an awful lot of talking about wanting. 

Oh good. Some of the worry unclenches a little. She doesn’t have to be embarrassed if he wants her. She’s kind of unsure whether she should say anything about that, or whether she should say anything else at all. 

She’s going to kiss him back while she figures this out. That much is easy. And it’s maybe a lot of what she wanted in the first place.