Her Pretend Christmas Date: A Lesbian Christmas Romance

by Alexa Woods

  “But you should. If she’s single. I mean, you’re single. If she’s single, you should ask her out.”

  “Didn’t you guys do a session together?” Kate cut in. “You and Morgun?”

  Laney cursed her contacts for not being able to keep their mouths shut. The photos weren’t even done yet. She’d had a teaser of one and she knew they were going to be amazing. It was something to get excited over, but she wished that it had been kept as a private excitement. Although, she’d never said that it couldn’t be mentioned. Laney found herself not wanting to talk about it. She didn’t like to discuss her private life at work, period, but something about this made the panic she felt that much worse.

  “I…no. I mean, yes, we did, but it was just that. She had an idea and I liked it. It wasn’t anything more than that.”

  “Are you sure?” Lucy crowed. She was more of the hopeless romantic. She’d been married for twenty years and had two kids and was kind of like Laney’s mom in that she still apparently believed in fairy tale, happily ever afters.

  “Yup.” Laney nodded. “I’m sure.”

  “That’s too bad! She seems super nice.”

  “I’m good with being single right now. I’m too busy to think about dating someone.”

  “You should never be too busy to date someone,” Doug cut in.

  “I’m happy being single.”

  “I’m not happy being single and somehow I never have any luck!” Doug stated. “If I were you, I’d go for it. What could be the harm in asking her out?”

  “She’s probably not even single,” Kate reasoned, trying to help Laney out.

  Laney gave her an appreciative look. “No one can even breathe around here or team up for an afternoon of photos without everyone assuming they’re doing something after hours.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis, but she couldn’t believe what she was saying.

  Why couldn’t she just admit that she and Morgun were dating? They had never called it that, but she could say they were seeing each other and say that she’d rather keep the details private. Her coworkers would respect that. Kind of. They might only bug her now and then for minor details because they were curious, but they wouldn’t make it a big deal.

  Why was she saying what she was saying? Was she that desperate to protect herself? Why was it so hard for her to just admit it? Now that it had popped out, her immediate denial that sprung to her lips from the panic and apprehension taking over her entire chest, she couldn’t exactly just snatch it back and tell everyone she’d just lied to them and that yes, she and Morgun were on the verge of being a couple, if they weren’t already.

  Something about realizing that, about actually thinking it and saying the words, even in her own head, made Laney feel like she was standing on the edge of everything she’d so carefully constructed coming down on her. All the women she’d dated in the past, she’d basically sabotaged all those relationships by working too much. Her drive had always overwhelmed them. Things just didn’t work out.

  She was always able to rationalize it and she had never fully invested herself to begin with given that she knew it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted her career. If that was thriving, she didn’t really have time for anything else to thrive. She was always honest about that, and the women she’d dated all thought they could handle it, and all changed their minds.

  But Morgun? Morgun was different. Laney cared about Morgun in a way that she’d never been able to care about someone else. There was something about Morgun that had immediately dug its way under skin and kept burrowing straight to her heart. Kind of like a porcupine quill or blood poisoning. But better.

  People said that caring was better. Emotions. Even love. But was it? Look at the mess most people made of their lives. Look at the way they hurt other people and hurt themselves. It was just so much easier to stick with having a career and enjoying that.

  Except that Laney had to admit that she hadn’t felt that way these past couple weeks. Not since Christmas. Okay, not since Jason’s wedding. She kept trying to lie to herself, kept trying to water down that feeling, and she kept failing. When she was with Morgun, she could be herself. She didn’t have to be tough. She could be affectionate. She could let herself dream of something beyond a job and an empty house each night. Morgun blindsided her. Morgun was like the kind of car crash that changes a person’s life forever.

  Laney knew it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right to give Morgun hope, but she herself had started to have hope, and that’s why she couldn’t just end things. She didn’t want to end things. She didn’t want to stop seeing Morgun. She didn’t want to stop caring about her. She couldn’t stop caring about her.

  She just couldn’t stand here and admit it. It was too soon. Maybe one day. Maybe, if she didn’t ruin everything by then. Maybe, if Morgun could be patient with her and give her time to work through the mess in her head. Maybe, if Morgun let Laney take those baby steps, she’d eventually be able to walk and run.

  It made Laney feel even more guilty that she was just standing there, listening to her co-workers talking about normal work crap while she had so much going on inside. She wanted to blurt out that she was a liar. That she wasn’t tough. That she had something going on with her that completely terrified her. That she did care about Morgun. More than she’d ever cared about another woman. That Morgun made her want things that she’d given up on wanting. No, that she’d always told herself she didn’t want because she just didn’t know how to make it work with what used to matter most.

  Used to. As in, past tense. She wanted to set them straight, tell them that things did bother her. That she wasn’t untouchable. That the things she laughed off most of the time did wound her. That she did have a heart and that it beat hardest of all when she was with Morgun. When she thought about Morgun. Which was all the time. She thought about Morgun always, whether it was just subconscious or not.

  She wanted to say all those things, but instead she just stood there.

  And then, of course, Doug couldn’t let it go. Because she was still standing there, and so was he, like she wanted to talk about it.

  “I still think you should go for it,” Doug said again.

  “I’m too busy,” Laney mumbled. “And I would never get involved with a co-worker.”

  “She just works casually.”

  “Still. I’m just too busy. And that’s just inviting things to turn into a big mess. I hate drama, and drama in the workplace is a thousand times worse. Plus, I really am happy being single. I don’t need the added complications.”

  “Complications!” Doug hooted. “Jeez. You really haven’t met the right person if that’s how you think of it.”

  Laney wanted to snap out something about Doug telling her what everyone else was constantly telling her, and why couldn’t anyone be original anymore, but she swallowed down the nasty, reactive words, and instead just smiled and shook her head and helped herself to another cup of coffee.

  She doubted she could choke it down.

  People told her that she hadn’t met the right person yet. Morgun had said that herself. They were right and wrong. She hadn’t met the right person before. But now, she felt like she had, and things still weren’t any easier. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be easy. Maybe that was the point, but Laney couldn’t deny the creeping terror and panic when she truly admitted to herself what she felt.

  Her hand shook so hard that the coffee sloshed in her cup, and when she passed her co-workers to walk out of the lunchroom a few minutes later, her smile felt all wrong and wobbly.

  Chapter 26

  Morgun

  To say that Morgun was freaking out was a massive understatement. She felt wrecked. Ruined. She’d been in the hallway, ready to go into the lunchroom to get herself a cup of coffee before she met with a new potential client. She was early because she was nervous, and she still had forty minutes to kill before the meeting. Coffee seemed like a good idea.

  It turned out to be the worst idea.

  Eve
n from down the hall, she’d heard the voices. Laney’s. Others. She’d heard everything they were talking about. She’d heard, clearly and plainly as possible, Laney say that they weren’t dating. That they weren’t anything.

  Somehow she’d sat through the meeting, going through the motions with a client who somehow was still inspired to hire her, though Morgun had no idea why—her work, she guessed, and not her wonderful, vivacious personality. As soon as she got back to the safety of her apartment, she’d let her tears flow.

  She hated that she was crying, but she was angry, and upset, and she couldn’t help herself. She’d texted Laney immediately, asking if she could go over some edits with her. She knew for sure that Laney had the evening free. She felt like a liar. Like she was tricking Laney, so right after, she’d sent a text asking if they could talk.

  Laney responded, saying she’d be free at seven.

  So Morgun waited. And waited. The wait was even worse than ever. This time, instead of anticipation, she just felt a sick, creeping dread that saturated every part of her being.

  Seven came, regardless of the fact that even the seconds felt like an eternity. It came too soon, and the dread only worsened, clamping down on Morgun’s stomach and chest and even her legs as soon as the buzzer rang.

  She let Laney up, unlocked the door, and went and sat on the couch.

  Laney expected Morgun to be at the door as she usually was, smiling, offering tea or coffee or water or something. Her guard was up, Morgun could see that, but she couldn’t pretend there was nothing wrong.

  Laney sat down on the other end of the couch, but it was mechanical. Morgun knew she had to say something. Laney wasn’t just going to come out and bring it up. She didn’t know that Morgun had overheard her. It was nearly impossible to speak past the giant clump in her throat, her nerves raw and strangling her, but somehow, she started.

  “I heard everything today. At the office. I was standing right outside the lunchroom, trying to get some coffee before I met with a client. I heard you telling other people that we weren’t seeing each other. That we weren’t anything. That I would just be a complication and you were more than happy being single. If that’s how you think of us, then we obviously need to have a conversation. I can’t believe you’d say those things after we…shared so much. Our thoughts. Our plans. Personal things. We shared our bodies. How can that not mean anything to you? How can you deny everything with conviction like that? Don’t you think that’s not only insanely hurtful, but also just…wrong?”

  Laney maintained eye contact. Her right hand twitched, fingers vibrating, but that was the only thing that gave her outward composure away. “I’m sorry,” she said, and her voice trembled just like her fingers. “I didn’t mean… I just got scared.”

  “You got scared? Because admitting that you’re actually with me is so scary?” Morgun snapped sarcastically. “Unless you’re ashamed of me. Unless I really am supposed to be a secret. But you told me that wasn’t the case that day when you were on the phone with your mom.”

  “I…”

  “You what? Because that sounds like a statement that’s just going to be more of the thick-skinned bullshit. Am I right? You were going to say something along those lines. That you’re just protecting yourself and by protecting yourself you’re also protecting us. Come on. I’m not going to sit here and listen to that.”

  “You’re mad right now. I don’t think it matters what I was going to say, it’s going to get turned around on me,” Laney said softly, but there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

  “No! You don’t have a right to put this on me. I’m not so angry that I won’t hear you out.”

  Morgun forced herself to calm down. Forced air into her lungs. She didn’t want Laney to be right about her not being willing to listen. She did the elementary school thing for dealing with anger and silently counted to ten while breathing deeply. It helped. Slightly. She waited for Laney to say something, but when she just stood there, sawing on her bottom lip with her teeth, it was obvious that Morgun had been correct about how Laney was going to try to defend herself and justify what she’d done.

  “I just can’t believe you could be so calm and lie like that. Didn’t you think once that you’d hurt me, even if I never found out?”

  “Yes!” Laney’s hands clenched at her pants reflexively. “I-I did think about that. I did. I just, I don’t know. I couldn’t get the words out. Sometimes, yes, it’s easier to lie. Sometimes it really is to protect yourself and the person you care about.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. Not in this case, at any rate. I work there, Laney. I don’t think I need protecting from my own co-workers. They know you’re a lesbian. They know I’m a lesbian. So, I’m not sure what I’d need protecting from. Because if you said we were seeing each other, what would anyone say? As far as I know, work relationships aren’t off limits. I read through the employee handbook. There was nothing in there about that, and they had just about every policy under the sun covered off. So don’t talk to me about thick skins and protecting me. You were protecting yourself because you’re selfish and you’re scared.”

  “Of course, I’m scared! Not of them, but of this! Of us! Of this going to shit, like right now. I’m scared that if I talk about it, I will jinx it and it will vanish. I’m scared that if I admit that we’re going out, even to myself, that it’s going to disappear. That I’ll ruin it. That something will happen, and I won’t have you anymore. I’m scared that someone will do something to try to sabotage it.”

  “You’re doing a pretty good job of that by yourself.”

  “Morgun! I really am afraid of losing you.”

  “That’s not a good enough reason not to admit that we’re dating. There. I said it. Did we magically go up in flames and smoke? No? Hmm. Funny how that works. The day in the car, you basically admitted we were something.”

  “You seemed fine with not putting a label on it.”

  “I was trying to give you time! I didn’t want to rush you! I didn’t want to put pressure on you, because that would probably make you run. I didn’t want to ruin things either, so I tried to give you time. I tried to respect your space and that you’re a professional with a busy work schedule. I tried not to be demanding or clingy. I tried to support you. I didn’t use labels, but I thought that one day soon, we’d be able to say the word dating. Together. Something like that. I didn’t think you’d straight up deny me to a group of people and laugh about it like I’m nothing.”

  Laney went totally pale. Morgun had never seen her look that way, like she was sick. “You know you’re not nothing!”

  “Oh, I know!” Morgun seethed. “I know I’m not nothing. I’m just not sure I know that when it comes to how you think of me. I would never, ever deny you in front of a bunch of people, let alone people that I knew! I couldn’t. I can’t understand how you would do it and there’s nothing you can say or do that will justify that to me. I think your fears about us saying that we’re dating are incredibly childish and immature. You’re scared because you finally found something that challenges how you think and how you hold yourself apart from the rest of the world. You don’t like it, so you’re trying to ruin it and say that it wasn’t your fault.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Laney said sharply, but there was sadness in her tone too. Defeat. Like she was already admitting that Morgun was right about that.

  That stung worse than anything so far.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this right now,” Laney tried again.

  “When should we?” Morgun asked, forcing herself to calm down. She’d wanted to talk rationally and figure things out, not end up in a fight that solved nothing and caused bad feelings. “When should we talk about it? In a week? A month? A year? Never? When do you think you’ll be ready?” She wasn’t sarcastic. She was asking much more gently now, without anger.

  “I-I don’t know.”

  Morgun looked up, back at Laney. “If you don’t know, then
maybe you just aren’t ready. I didn’t go into this with any expectations, but I guess that’s how I’m feeling now. I feel like, at minimum, you should admit that we’re dating and make a commitment to that, since we have been, whether we were calling it dating or not. If you’re not willing to do that, or you’re just not able to do that, then I think we need to stop.”

  “No, Morgun…”

  Morgun waited. She waited for there to be more, but there wasn’t anything else coming. Laney’s lips were pressed tightly together, and even if her eyes were getting big and watery, it was going to take more than that, for once, to get Morgun to change her mind.

  This was serious and this was real. It really hurt her. It affected just about every aspect of her life going forward. She couldn’t just let it lie or let Laney take the easy way out on the excuse of giving her more time, because she wasn’t sure that she’d ever be ready, and she didn’t want to be the one constantly waiting, constantly hurting. She’d been through that before and it wasn’t fun. Eventually, she had to call it quits because she realized Lindsey was never going to be able to be where she wanted her to be. She’d grown a lot and come a long way, but it was still a massive way away from meeting Morgun anywhere near the middle.

  Morgun didn’t want to think that this would end up the same way. Laney was older, more mature. Unfortunately, she also seemed to be more set in her ways, but the problem with that was that Morgun was sure that Laney was just more confused because of it. She wasn’t exactly set. She just thought she was set. It seemed that deep down she wasn’t even sure what she wanted. Or worse, that she was, but she just couldn’t go for it because she let her fear hold her back.

  “I know you’re scared,” Morgun said patiently. “I get that. But you should also understand that I’m not willing to settle for that. There’s not this magic word than someone can say that can make the whole world implode. It’s a choice, Laney. You have to choose to want this. You have to choose to call bullshit on yourself. You have to choose to believe that you can do this and that you do want this and that it can work. If you can’t choose that, then I’m not willing to wait around with this big question mark at the end of every single day, week, month. I value my time more than that and I value myself more than that. I might be younger than you, but I know what I want. Life isn’t perfect and people aren’t perfect, so I understand that relationships can’t be, but I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone unless that’s what we’re really doing. Dating. And that they admit it, because admitting it means that they’re proud of me and that they care about me and they’re not scared to let people see it. I can’t deal with all the doubt and uncertainty and waiting around to see if you feel like you could make this work. I think you know by now and I’ve given it enough time to at least have you say the word and mean it. If you can’t, then I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work out.”