Miles Apart

by A. L. Brooks

  The fact it was called couples’ counselling seemed ironic when she was attending more of the sessions on her own than with her partner.

  Partner.

  A dictionary definition of the word would suggest sharing or intimacy. Or being together.

  She and Terri weren’t any of those things right now. Not really.

  She wondered if they ever would be again. The distance between them grew ever wider day by day. At the wave of sadness that swept over her, she swallowed back a sudden lump in her throat and rolled over, pressing her face into her pillow and curling into a childlike ball.

  “Hey, you’re home before me.” Terri leaned in to kiss the back of Alex’s neck as she chopped salad ingredients.

  Alex forced a smile and turned to face her. “Yep. Managed to get out of that meeting I normally have late on Tuesdays and made a run for it. I thought I’d get started on supper as you said you’d be a little late.”

  Terri beamed, and it cut through Alex. How could she act so…normal? As if nothing was wrong? Was Terri forcing herself to appear happy? Did she really give a shit who cooked each night and why? So much for their counselling helping to improve their communication. Somehow, despite how many sessions they’d had, they seemed worse off than before in that regard. And Alex knew, deep down, that was mostly coming from her. The longer this went on, the more unsure she was. And yet, conversely, the more daunting it seemed to really talk about the mess they were in. To get the truth out.

  “So what delights are you serving me?” Terri waggled her eyebrows playfully, and Alex searched her brown eyes for some inkling that it was genuine amusement, not contrived. Nothing in Terri’s expression suggested it was anything but real. It tugged at Alex’s heart and gut. Was she really the only one who thought this was all turning to crap? Did Terri still think they were going to be okay? Terri’s cavalier attitude grated on her nerves.

  She glanced away to the food beside her. “Um, well, it’s just some grilled salmon, boiled new potatoes, and a salad. And I picked up some of that lime dressing you like so much.” She had tried. Really tried. She’d hit the deli next to the station on her way home, determined to make an effort. She just couldn’t help thinking it shouldn’t be this hard. Given how long it had been since Terri had slept with Liz, surely she should be past it now, if she truly was committed to Terri. Surely she wouldn’t be so exhausted from trying?

  “Nice! I love that dressing.” Terri leaned forwards and kissed her tenderly again, lingering. This one stirred something, undeniably so. A tightening low in her belly, the barest hint of desire and need and, yes, affection. Surprising herself, she ran with it, clutched at it like a life raft. Then, suddenly, craved it. Deepening the kiss, she let her tongue play over Terri’s bottom lip and was rewarded with a long, soft groan from her partner. Kissing Terri had always been her undoing. Her hot mouth, her gently probing tongue, the sound of her ragged breathing. All of it always conspired to weaken Alex, to tear down the resistance she sometimes wasn’t even conscious of placing between them.

  When they broke for air, Terri’s eyes were shining.

  “That was…”

  “Yeah, it was,” Alex whispered. And it was. But just like that, the walls came down again. She didn’t want to take it further. Well, her clit, which was now quietly throbbing, wanted to. Badly. But her brain wouldn’t let her body go there. Not yet.

  She stepped away, exhaling slowly. She smiled as warmly as she could and gestured towards the salad. “Dinner in about ten, okay?”

  Terri’s eyes dimmed, just a little, but she smiled back. “Sure. I’ll just go and get changed.”

  Terri slid into bed beside Alex, letting in a small whoosh of cool air as she did. It tickled at the bare skin on Alex’s arms where they rested by her head. She was on her left side, facing Terri’s pillow. She’d mentally gone back and forth with herself the entire time Terri was in the bathroom.

  If I lie on my right side, that puts my back to her, which will only be seen as an insult. But if I lie on my left, that means I’m facing her when she gets in, and will that make her think I want us to take up where we left off in the kitchen? Does she think we’ll have sex again? Do I want to if she does? How do I say no if I don’t want to?

  Eventually, driven to distraction by her own ridiculous roundabout of thoughts, she’d lain on her left, deciding that turning her back was just too harsh. Terri hadn’t done anything wrong tonight. She’d been lovely, actually. Almost irresistible. It was what she’d done wrong in August that was still generating the aftershocks Alex couldn’t deal with.

  “Hey,” Terri whispered as she wriggled down into the duvet and gazed at Alex. Six months ago this would have been romantic. Their bedside lights cast a soft glow around the room. The cold evening outside had them both hunkering down into the warmth of the duvet. They’d had a pleasant evening, chatting fairly comfortably over dinner about their days, then watching a movie. Terri had kept a respectful distance between them to begin with, then, as if winning her own mental battle over which path to follow, suddenly she’d snuggled closer and wrapped one arm around Alex’s shoulders. Alex hadn’t flinched, which had surprised her. And probably surprised Terri as well.

  Now, here they were, in bed after that pleasant evening, and clearly Terri wanted to carry on what had started in the kitchen when she’d come home. Her eyes carried a look of desire so intense it almost made Alex wince. Terri reached out a hand. Tentatively, slowly. When Alex didn’t move, Terri placed her fingertips on Alex’s forehead, just above her eyebrow, and stroked a tantalisingly gentle pathway down around her eye, over her cheekbone, brushing past her top lip, then caressing both lips slowly, from one side of her mouth to the other. Something flared in Alex, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was comfortable with it.

  “You are so beautiful,” Terri said, her voice still a whisper.

  Alex closed her eyes. Words like that, words that should make her feel loved, and cherished, and wanted—words like that now just made her disbelieve. How could any of that be possible when Terri had so willingly slept with Liz? Who was she looking at now as she continued to stroke Alex’s face? Who did she desire?

  The bile rose in Alex’s throat and she wrenched her head away. Terri’s hand was left hanging in midair, and she dropped it slowly back to the bed, as if she couldn’t quite fathom that Alex had pulled back. She frowned, and made to speak, but Alex interrupted her.

  “I-I can’t. Not tonight.”

  Terri exhaled and her eyes closed briefly before she opened them again to stare at Alex. “But I thought… Tonight was nice, wasn’t it? And that kiss, earlier?” She looked completely bemused, her forehead creased in a deep frown, her gaze darting all over Alex’s face, seeking answers.

  “It was,” Alex admitted quietly. She rolled onto her back, unable to take the intensity of Terri’s gaze any longer. “It’s just…” God, how could she explain this? At least, how could she do it without causing an almighty row? She’d tried to talk to Terri about this very thing in a couple of the counselling sessions, but Terri just couldn’t get it. For Terri, that one night with Liz was all in the past. Done with. Forgotten. Terri had always been good at putting things in little mental boxes. Once she’d felt and dealt with something, she put it away.

  Terri reached out a hand under the duvet and laid it carefully on Alex’s belly. “Please, baby. Please tell me what it is. I love you, and I want us to fix this. I do,” she said earnestly as Alex twitched beneath her hand. “But you have to help me. I need to know how to fix it. What you want me to do.”

  Alex exhaled, taking her time. All right, she would try this.

  She turned her head slightly, her view of Terri oblique. Too face-on and she might not manage it.

  “You’ve said before that you don’t understand this. But it’s the same problem. A lot of the time, when you kiss me, or t
ouch me, I don’t know how to trust that it’s really me you’re kissing and touching.” She didn’t understand why Terri couldn’t grasp this—Terri who knew exactly what games Jade, Alex’s ex, had played on her…

  Terri’s hand tensed on her belly, then she snatched it back.

  “Really?” Terri snapped. “This again? Yeah, you’re right, I don’t understand. I’ve told you until I’m blue in the face that she’s forgotten. That it’s all about you.”

  “It’s just not that easy for me!” Alex’s voice was more vociferous than she’d intended. “I’m the one who was cheated on. I’m the one who has to forgive, and find a way to move on. To find a way to trust you again!” She slapped a hand over her mouth. All her pent-up frustration and hurt was threatening to explode and she couldn’t do that. Not now. Not this week.

  Terri flopped back down beside Alex on the bed.

  “Sometimes,” Terri said after a few moments, in a voice like acid, “I don’t think you ever will.”

  Nor do I, Alex thought.

  “Maybe,” Terri said, aggressively pulling the duvet back up to her chin, “it’s not such a bad thing you’re off to Montreal on Saturday. Maybe a little time apart might be good for us.”

  Alex exhaled. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Something was crawling inside her, something that was gathering force as it churned and swirled, deep down in her belly. Somehow the phrase time apart had loosened something, chipped away at more of her internal barriers. Because, suddenly, the idea of being on her own, of having the time and space to really sift through all her feelings without Terri there to distract her, created a yearning that shocked her in its intensity. A week would help, definitely. But it was achingly tempting to think that a much longer period apart might help even more. Scared at the implications of where her thoughts were leading her, she shimmied down under the duvet again.

  “Goodnight,” she whispered.

  Terri rolled over away from her and turned out the light.

  Chapter 3

  Alex smiled. Danielle was perfectly on time for their lunch date on Friday, as always. The restaurant, tucked behind Holborn Station, was their usual haunt for a lunchtime catch-up, with impeccably swift service and located almost exactly halfway between each of their offices.

  Danielle air-kissed Alex and smiled warmly at Alex before sliding gracefully into the chair opposite. Slim and impossibly beautiful, with a rich mane of long golden hair, Danielle turned heads, both male and female, wherever she went. That she was oblivious to every stare was a testament to the strength of her relationship with Beth, her wife of ten years. Danielle looked stunning—the dress, in swirling shades of grey, clung to every inch of her, and Alex could only be grateful she’d never crushed on her best friend, because if she had, she’d be struggling to breathe right now.

  “You look amazing, as always,” Alex said, reaching across the table to pour some water into Danielle’s empty glass.

  “Thank you,” Danielle murmured, as usual looking a little taken aback at the compliment. She frowned. “You look tired. How are you? How has the week been?”

  Straight to the point, as usual.

  Alex straightened in her chair, suddenly on guard. This was her best friend, the woman she should be able to talk to about anything, especially after all this time. But somehow, the magnitude of what she wanted to blurt out made her stomach tighten into complex knots and her natural instinct to avoid the truth rise to the fore. She’d been protecting herself like this for so long it was now second nature. But underneath it all, a part of her knew how much damage it was doing. How much unhappiness it was causing, for herself and indirectly for Terri. She huffed out an extended breath.

  Danielle sipped from her water and waited.

  Alex met her eyes. “I think… It’s been hard. She’s trying, I know she is. But…”

  “What?”

  Alex looked away from Danielle’s intense gaze. She knew her friend could see right through her, past the words to the truth behind. Why did she insist on trying to hide? But she knew why. Saying a thing out loud made it real. And she wasn’t ready for real. Real would lead to mess and complications and heartache, all things she just didn’t have the energy for. Not right now.

  “We’re struggling with…intimacy,” she volunteered. She met Danielle’s gaze again. “I still have trouble believing it’s me she’s seeing when she…touches me.”

  Danielle nodded, pursing her lips slightly. “I can imagine.”

  The waitress appeared to take their order. As long-time customers, neither of them had opened the menu, knowing beforehand what they’d want to eat.

  “Seared tuna,” Alex said, smiling wanly at the waitress if only to be polite, when she felt like doing anything but smiling.

  “Caesar salad,” Danielle requested. She waited until the waitress had moved on before turning back to Alex. “Is that the only issue between you now?”

  Alex shrugged. “Not really. But all the other stuff is being dominated by the lack of…sex.” Why she was so hesitant to use the word in front of her friend was beyond her. They’d talked about sex before. Although they’d never talked about it in the context of their partners at the time, so maybe that was colouring her hesitancy. “I mean, if you can’t have sex, how can you really communicate and address all the other issues?” Too late, she realised that last statement gave Danielle an opening Alex would rather she didn’t take.

  Danielle, of course, grabbed it with both hands. “So there are other issues? You are being deliberately vague about this, Alex.” She sighed. “You know I won’t judge you, yes? You know I will support you in whatever you choose to do?”

  Alex nodded and had to swallow hard before she could speak. Danielle’s unwavering support all these years had always been Alex’s one steadying influence. She’d helped pull Alex through the awful aftermath of two years with Jade, and here she was unflinchingly putting herself forwards as a rock for Alex to anchor to once again.

  “I know you will. You always do. And I really appreciate it.” Alex reached across the table to briefly clasp Danielle’s hand. “I’m…very confused, right now. I really don’t know what I want to do.” Which was essentially true. She was beginning to accept that she knew what she wanted, but she definitely didn’t know what to do about it.

  “Perhaps your sudden trip to Montreal is a blessing in disguise,” Danielle said quietly. “Perhaps some time apart would help?”

  Alex nodded slowly. “Yes, we agreed about that, a couple of days ago. We…argued. She was the one who said this break might do us good.”

  Danielle tilted her head. “Were you okay with that?”

  Alex stared at her. “I was…relieved.”

  Danielle nodded and her fingers played with her water glass as she seemed to take a moment to work out what she wanted to say next.

  “I wonder if a week is long enough.” Her voice was quiet, but her words hit Alex square in the chest. When Alex made to respond, Danielle held up one slender hand. “I have always said I will support you, and I have always tried to steer clear of direct interference. I listen, and let you tell me what you need to tell me, but I have strived not to try and lead you one way or another. But on this one, I am sorry, I have to make an exception.”

  Alex had never heard her friend so serious. “Okay,” she said, “tell me what you want to say. I won’t hold it against you.” She braced herself for whatever Danielle would come up with.

  Danielle wrapped her fingers around Alex’s wrist, her thumb stroking the soft skin on the inside. “I have never seen you so unhappy as you have been these past few months. Even the bitch—” Danielle refused to call Jade by her name “—did not leave you this…empty. I fear you are clinging on to a relationship that has turned too sour to be rescued. Why you are clinging on only you can probably say, but I can hazard a gues
s. Terri was your safety net, after that bitch. And I think you are scared to leave that, even though it is no longer actually a place of safety. The trust is gone, Alex, and when that is gone, a relationship is doomed.”

  Alex’s cheeks were wet with tears, and she grabbed her napkin with her free hand, mortified to be crying so openly in public.

  “Gosh, I am sorry.” Danielle’s eyes widened. She squeezed Alex’s wrist before letting it go. “I completely forgot where we were. This was not appropriate. Sorry, Alex.” Her heartfelt words only increased Alex’s pain.

  “Excuse me,” Alex muttered through a tight throat. She pushed back her chair. “I’ll be back soon.” She turned and fled to the bathrooms before Danielle could respond.

  Once locked in a cubicle, she let it out. Sobbing into the napkin she had inadvertently brought with her to the bathroom, she muffled the sound as best she could with the rich cotton fabric. Danielle, as perceptive as ever, had cut right to the heart of the matter, and her simple words had flayed Alex open. The trust between her and Terri had gone. Blown apart the minute Terri had told her of her tryst with Liz. Nausea turned her stomach as memories of that confession flooded her mind.

  She and Terri had been so…solid in their first three or so years together. Cracks had started to appear in the year after that. Just little things. Small differences in how they wanted to spend their time and where. More time spent with others in a group, rather than on their own. More silences in the evenings they did spend together, TV providing a welcome excuse not to really talk to each other.