Jane glared at Annie. She usually came to her rescue when she was tongue-tied like this. Now she sat staring at Jane, an expression on her face that was already getting on Jane’s nerves because it was too audacious, too demanding, too judgmental. Even though all of that was probably only in Jane’s head.

“I know I haven’t really been fulfilling my wifely duties,” Jane started.

“No, don’t say that,” Annie was quick to say. “You don’t have any wifely duties to fulfill. This is not the Middle Ages.”

Jane hoped the old trick would work. She would say a few words and Annie would just take over and do most of the talking.

“Maybe I used the wrong words,” Jane said. “But, you’ve been there… well, maybe not exactly there, but near enough.”

Annie painted a crooked smile on her face.

“What?” Jane asked.

“It just astounds me that someone who can articulate emotions so precisely in writing, someone who writes some of the most scorching sex scenes on the face of the earth, has so much trouble even saying the word sex. Just say it, babe. Or are you waiting for me to say it for you?” She shook her head. “I’m not going to bail you out this time.” Annie pursed her lips together.

Jane took a deep breath. Sometimes she wondered if she included such explicit scenes in her books just because she had so much trouble talking about it in her real life. “I googled the symptoms of peri-menopause and a decline in sex drive is one of the most prominent ones.” If she could manage to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl during this part of their conversation, Jane would consider it a win. “I know that wasn’t so much the case with you, but as you said earlier, we’re different people.”

Annie nodded. “What other symptoms did you find on the internet?”

Jane racked her brain. The list had been so depressing, she’d been trying hard to forget the symptoms, but they kept popping up in her head at random times, reminding her that her life was about to change for good. “Mood swings, trouble sleeping, hot flashes, dryness… all the fun stuff, really.”

Annie smiled and took Jane’s hand in hers. “But you have me by your side to pull you through.” Annie stroked Jane’s palm with her thumb. “I expect some of these things to affect you more than they did me because of who you are. But I don’t want you to feel bad about it, not even for one minute. This isn’t a contest of who deals best with menopause, okay? We’ll go see Doctor Moore together and see what she advises. Meanwhile, I took the liberty of ordering an extra-large batch of lube.”