by Joy Argento
“I made you a drink,” she said, pointing to what looked like a Manhattan. “I can make you something different if you want.”
I took a sip. “Nope. This is perfect.”
She picked up her drink, which looked to be the same as mine. “To our friendship,” she said and clinked her glass against mine. We both took a sip.
“I’m so glad you’re back in my life,” I told her.
“Me too.” She smiled that smile. It went directly to my heart and wrapped it in warmth and want. I hadn’t planned it, and I’m not sure I could have stopped it, but I leaned forward and kissed her. Kissed her full on the mouth for all I was worth. What’s more is she kissed me back. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and took full possession.
I lost control of my hands and my fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her even closer to me. I felt a surge of wetness as my arousal rose. I had wanted this for so long. So long.
The back of Beth’s hand skimmed across my breast and my nipple stood at full attention aching to be touched. Her hands were on my back, my neck, my shoulders. Without much conscious thought, I took her hand in mine and brought it to my chest. Without further prompting, her fingers kneaded my flesh. My breath caught in my throat.
I slipped a hand under her shirt and found my target. Her nipple responded and she let out a moan that I quickly swallowed up with my mouth. She leaned back, pulling me with her until I was lying on top of her. I adjusted my position and slipped a knee between her legs.
“Stop,” she said, breaking the kiss.
I didn’t have enough breath in my body to respond. I asked the question with my eyes.
“I can’t do this.”
I sat up, releasing the breast I had taken possession of.
She took several long moments to compose herself, taking deep breaths and letting them out with a large puff of air.
My eyes never left hers as she sat up and smoothed down her hair.
We sat like that for what seemed like an eternity but probably didn’t last more than a minute.
“I shouldn’t have—” I started.
“No. It’s not you. I want this too.” She took my hand. “I really do.” She took another deep breath. She hadn’t totally collected herself yet. “I don’t want to cheat. I didn’t tell you this, but Al had an affair.”
I stroked the back of her hand. “Oh, Beth, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want to sink to his level. I don’t want to cheat,” she repeated. “I need time to think. To figure out what I want. What I need to do.”
I didn’t dare ask the question that tugged at my brain. Could she leave him for me? Would she?
She seemed to read my mind. “I vowed to let him redeem himself. To prove he was sorry and to make up for it. I need to decide what that means.” She pointed from herself to me. “What this means.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. I wanted her. She wanted me. Right now, that was all I needed to know.
She looked into my eyes. “Can you do that? Can you give me time?”
Of course. I could give her anything at this point. “Yes.”
She ran a single finger across my cheek. The feeling went directly through me. It passed through my heart and settled squarely in my center. I wasn’t sure I could continue to sit so close to her and not run my hands over her body.
I got up and moved the chair across from the couch.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
I put my hand up. “Stop. It’s fine. I just need to catch my breath.”
“Should we talk about this?”
I nodded, wanting her to start. I took a large gulp of my drink while I waited.
“I told you I had had feelings for you. I tried to bury them, but tonight they came out in full force. But what I’m not sure of are your feelings. You haven’t been away from Claire that long. Did this…this…” She seemed at a loss for words.
“This happened,” I said. “Because I have had feelings for you since soon after we met.”
“But you were with Claire. You loved her.”
I nodded. “I did. But…” Now it was me who was stumbling for words. “But that didn’t stop me from falling for you. Maybe that’s why I was so willing to let you slip out of my life. Because I didn’t want those feelings to complicate my life with Claire.”
She pushed a stray hair out of her face. “This isn’t a rebound thing?”
“Not at all. I realized last week when we saw each other that my feelings hadn’t changed.” I moved back to the couch and took her hands in mine. I looked deep into her blue eyes. I swore I could see her soul—her very being—there. “Tell me your feelings for me haven’t changed either? That kiss told me they haven’t changed.”
“Even telling you my feelings haven’t changed makes me feel like I’m cheating.”
I was willing to let her cheat. To cheat with me. What did that say about me—other than I wanted her. “Where do we go from here?”
“At the moment, we go nowhere. Jodi, I’m married.”
It was a fact I didn’t need—want—to be reminded of.
She dropped my hands. “It’s up to you now. Can we be friends and not let this come between us?”
“Is there any chance at all for us?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m not ready to give up my marriage yet.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, this is all so confusing.”
The last thing I wanted to do was cause her any kind of discomfort. “Let’s drop it for now. I can handle being friends. We aren’t animals. Surely, we’re capable of controlling our urges. And if we’re not, well, I guess that says something.” I would give her time to figure things out. Of course, I hoped she would choose me. Choose what we could be together. But I wouldn’t push. She was too important to me. I didn’t want to send her running again.
“Do you want me to go?” Please say no.
“No. Of course not. How about we put a movie on and just enjoy watching it together?”
It was a plan I could live with. I nodded.
She got up, grabbed the remote from the end table, and sat back down next to me. I resisted the urge to take her hand.
“What do you want to watch?” she asked me.
“How about some sappy lesbian movie?”
She laughed. It dispelled some of the tension coursing through the air. “How about a nice tame comedy?”
Okay. I could settle for that. For now.
Beth
Wow. Wow. Wow! That kiss wasn’t expected. But what was more of a surprise was the way my body reacted. I was on fire with desire. Every fiber of my being vibrated with want. Want for Jodi.
Married. That word didn’t seem to matter in that moment. It took everything I had to stop the kiss. Of course, I couldn’t stop the wanting. The throbbing between my legs continued through most of the movie. It was all I could do not to let Jodi continue or worse yet, use my hand to reach the release my body screamed for. I managed to resist either option.
Jodi wanted me. Had wanted me for a long time. How easy it would be to give myself to her. But that damn word sprung up again. Married. I would not—could not—cheat. I had made a vow to him, to God. For better or worse. Yes, he had done the worse, but wasn’t marriage meant to be forever?
I needed to stick it out. My heart wanted Jodi. The piece of paper in a frame that hung in our bedroom said I belonged to Al. There was no decision to be made here. I had made my decision when I walked down the aisle of that church and made my promises. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it, but I needed to tell Jodi. I just hoped I didn’t lose her forever.
Jodi
“I need to work on my marriage,” Beth said. She paused before adding, “For now.”
“What exactly does ‘for now’ mean?” I asked, using air quotes.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean…” Beth got up from the chair she was sitting in across from me in my apartment. She sat next to me on the couch and took my hand. A surge of emotions fil
led me. Sadness for what she was telling me. Hope that “for now” meant her marriage would fail and she would come to me. Arousal at the physical contact.
“I mean,” she went on, “I have to continue on the path I started with Al. I have to give it everything I have. I’m not sure I’m gay or bi or any other label. To be honest, those labels scare me. I’m just me and I have a husband.
I inhaled sharply. “So, you are choosing him over me?”
“It’s not a choice. It’s where I am right now. Married.”
“What does that mean for us?”
“Jodi, I care about you. You are very special to me. Please don’t doubt that. I want to work at being friends. Best friends. Do you think we can do that?”
Friends. The word never sounded so unsettling as it did in that moment. Could I do it? Could I push my feelings for her aside and settle for being friends? I had pushed them aside before. But this time it was different. I was no longer in love with Claire, and now I knew my feelings for Beth were returned.
If I didn’t agree, I knew Beth wouldn’t be able to stay in my life—and my life was so much better with her in it. If I did agree would I be opening myself up for a world of hurt?
I slowly nodded, giving the only answer I could live with. The words “for now” continued to circulate in my mind. There was still a chance. I could cling to that hope—for now.
* * *
We managed to pull it off for several months. Just being friends. My feelings for her didn’t wane of course. They seemed to get stronger. The more we saw each other, the more time I wanted to spend with her. Her feelings, on the other hand, were hard to read. She was careful not to let me see anything more than friendship. Our hugs were short, she sat on the other side of the couch or across from me, always careful not to be too close.
I sat in my car tapping on the steering wheel. The fact that there were four cars in the driveway and in front of the house told me that the rest of Beth’s dinner guests had already arrived. Seeing Beth’s mother, sister, and daughter wasn’t the problem. Sitting at the same table and watching Beth and Al played married couple was.
I gathered up my courage, grabbed the bottle of wine I had brought from the passenger seat, and headed up the sidewalk to the front door. Beth’s sister, Jen, opened it almost as soon as I rang the bell.
“Hi, Jodi. It’s so good to see you.” She gave me a one-armed hug, holding a full glass of wine in her other hand. “Beth’s in the kitchen. Come on in.” She took my coat and hung it in the hall closet.
I made my way to the kitchen. “This is for you,” I said when I saw Beth. I handed her the bottle of merlot.
“How nice.” She gave me a tight but short-lived hug. I ignored the sensations it stirred. “I have some white wine already opened, but I can open this if you would prefer it.”
“White works.”
Beth’s mom, Denise, came into the kitchen, followed by Maddie. “Looks like the party’s in here. Hi, Jodi. How are you?”
I gave her and Maddie each a hug in turn. “Doing good. How are you?”
“Oh, you know. Hanging in there. Can’t complain.” She turned to Beth. “Honey, did you need any help?”
“I’ve got it, Mom. Why don’t you take this tray out to the living room? You guys can snack while I put the finishing touches on dinner.” She handed her a platter filled with cheese and crackers. Maddie grabbed a piece of cheese as her grandmother passed and stuffed it into her mouth. She held up an empty wine glass. “Uncle Roger would like another,” she told her mother.
Beth gestured to the bottle on the kitchen island. “And pour Jodi a glass too, please.”
“Thanks,” I said to Maddie, accepting the glass. I took a large sip.
Beth drained a pot of potatoes, added butter and milk, and proceeded to mash them. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She looked over at me and smiled.
I raised my glass without saying anything but returned the grin.
“If you want you can go out to the living room with everyone else and have some munchies.”
“Okay if I just hang in here with you for a while?”
“Absolutely. I would love that.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. Just keep me company. Pull up a chair and relax.”
I sat silently sipping my wine, watching Beth prepare the meal, hoping the wine would settle the anxiety in my stomach.
“Why so quiet?” she asked.
I shrugged. How could I explain that being around her husband was a problem for me, when we were supposed to just be friends? We both knew the truth was far from that, but pretending was part of the deal. “Just tired,” I lied.
“Al’s not here,” she volunteered without me asking. “We had a bit of a spat earlier, and he jumped at a chance to go help a friend who was having car trouble.”
The relief I felt was palpable. I tried not to show how happy that made me. I felt almost giddy. I knew she continued to struggle in her marriage, but details were usually sparse. My hope for a future with her remained strong.
I helped Beth bring the food out to the dining room table, which she had already set. Beth opened the bottle of wine I had brought and added it to the table along with another bottle of white. Surrounded by beautiful sisters, I sat with Jen on one side of me and Beth on the other. The conversation flowed freely and easily. This was the first time that I had an opportunity to get to know Jen’s husband, Roger, and he proved to be quite entertaining.
* * *
I had just walked into my apartment several hours later when my cell phone rang with Beth’s ringtone. I smiled to myself. “Hello,” I said. “Hello. Beth? Beth?” I could hear noises but couldn’t make them out. She must have butt-dialed me, I thought. Then I heard her voice, but she wasn’t talking to me. She was talking to her husband. She was talking to him. She had no idea I could hear her. I wondered if I should stay on the phone and listen. Would anything she said to him be reassuring to me or would it be torture? Al said something I couldn’t quite make out and she answered him. They were talking about his shoes being wet. Normal stuff. Everyday stuff—reminding me that that was her life—every day—her life with him. I hung up the phone. It was too painful to listen to them spending their life together. A normal, everyday life.
What was I doing? My heart went from being light to being crushed in the blink of an eye. That’s all I could expect from wanting her. It had never hit home like it did at that moment. The pain seeped around my heart and squeezed it like a fist. The blood could barely get through and pump to the rest of my body. My brain felt the loss of blood as my heart felt the loss of a dream. Let go. Let go with love. But how? How did I let go of what my heart wanted? What my heart screamed for. Yes, screamed. I struggled to keep the scream from traveling up my throat as it threatened to pour out into the world, making my heartache a reality. But it was reality. Wasn’t it? She was with him. She had chosen him. She was my friend. Only my friend. We both knew that wasn’t true. But knowing and doing something about it were two different things.
But the thing about that loss was that she was never mine to lose. That knowledge did nothing to take the sting out of it. The pain was real. It hurt, like waking up from a good dream where you’re with the one you love only to discover that she wasn’t in your arms after all. When the reality of the morning wakes you from that dream, you know you have to let it go. That was the point I was at. I needed to figure out how to let it go. I didn’t know if I could do that and still keep her in my life. Seeing her, talking to her on the phone, even texting with her only made me want her more.
The solution was one I didn’t want to face. I had to tell Beth I needed time away from her to think, to heal. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
* * *
I walked through life in the weeks that followed without seeing anything around me. Why even bother looking? The world had lost its color and even the black and white that remained was more like a muted gray. It lacked co
ntrast. It lacked meaning. I avoided everyone, everything. Annie was back from Denver and knew something was wrong but didn’t know what. No one knew what I was going through. I was grieving in silence. My loss was mine alone. Telling myself that it was for the best didn’t make the pain any less. Telling myself that the Universe was protecting me from future hurt didn’t stop the current pain.
I worked on projects. I smiled at clients. I struggled to keep the sadness that filled my heart from reaching my eyes and pouring out into the world. I think for the most part it worked. If anyone saw my pain they didn’t let on. I wanted to scream at them. LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT WHAT I’M GOING THROUGH! SEE ME! But no one did. I was alone in my suffering.
I lay in bed one night and looked at the empty side of the bed. The side Beth could have been sleeping on now if she hadn’t chosen him over me. She said it wasn’t a choice of that, but the fact remained that she was with him, not me. As unlikely as it sounded, I understood her choice. I didn’t agree with it, but I understood it. She was married. She wanted to stay married. That was easier. That was much more accepted by her church and by the world at large. Being with me would have changed everything for her. She wasn’t ready for that change, and it was likely she would never be. That was what I needed to accept. It wasn’t me she rejected. It was a new version of her. She couldn’t see that version. Couldn’t see the possibilities of it. At the end of her life, she might not have been happy or gotten what she wanted, but damn, at least no one would have thought she was gay. That I think was her biggest fear. Fear clouded her view. Fear controlled her choice. Fear ruled the world.
Fear made her want it to work with him and she needed to give it another chance. She found happiness with him once. She believed she could find it again. A part of me hoped she was right. Hoped she would be happy with him again. Another part of me wanted her to leave him, even if she didn’t come to me. He didn’t deserve her. She deserved someone who cherished her. Someone who would never cheat on her. He had failed on both fronts. He would hurt her again. I knew it as surely as I knew the sun would rise each morning and set each night. I longed to protect her from that hurt. I longed to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her. My eyes teared up with the very thought of it. The thought of what I almost had. The thought of what I had lost. And I had lost her completely. She was nowhere in my life except for my heart, and that felt like it couldn’t contain the love for her without bursting. I had no way to express the feelings, so they built there, pushing at the walls until they were ready to explode. The walls that were already weak from breaking into pieces and my pathetic attempt to glue them back together.