The last of my fight left me, and I stepped closer, pulling her into a hug.“I won’t lie about who I am,” I said, soft and firm, into her hair.
She sniffled into my shoulder.“It’s not even lying.It’s just … selective sharing.I don’t know why you’d need to bring it up to my parents anyway.Why you’d bring it up at all.Unless you miss it.”
I pulled back, needing to see her expression.“Miss what?Being with men?”
“Do you?”
The embers of my anger flared at the question, which was ignorant and rude and the kind of complete nonsense partners had asked me in the past.
I cupped her face with both hands, letting my words leave no room for doubt.“No.I don’t miss it.I’m with you.I’m dating you.I don’t want anything else.”
Hannah leaned up to kiss me, relieved, and I forced myself to move past the lingering disappointment I felt to meet her lips, accepting her murmured apologies as she pressed against me.
When she exited the bedroom a second time, much later, we settled into a semi-comfortable routine.I quickly devoured another cup of coffee while Hannah fixed herself a juice and spoke at length about her work.
I wanted to pay attention, but it was difficult.Even if I wasn’t coming off of two hours of restless sleep, my mind kept returning to what she’d said and how I felt last night.
As I sat curled up on the couch, staring into my coffee, Hannah’s words blurring into white noise beside me.I wished I was alone.Some quiet would really be nice right about now.
“Tiffany?”
I snapped my head over to Hannah.“Sorry, zoned out a little.”
“I was telling you about the new curator.She’s a very interesting person.”
“That’s sweet,” I said, distracted.
She frowned.“What’s wrong?Is this still about last night?”
“No.I’m just …” tired, “thinking about work.”
“If you hate it so much, just quit.”There was disdain in her tone as if this job wasn’t worth keeping anyway.As if it hadn’t been the last four years of my life.As if she didn’t know exactly how much it meant to me.“It’s not like there’s much of a future in it anyway.You could be earning twice as much if you got a desk job.And we’d get to see each other more.”
“I don’t want a desk job.I love what I do.”
“Then why do you complain so much about it?”
Even though we weren’t moving, she was backing me into a corner.I hated it.“I’m supposed to like every part of my job?”My irritation bled through, and I took a calming breath, urging myself to be reasonable.Hannah had been listening to me complain; that was true.And she wasn’t wrong about our mismatched schedules.My job meant working multiple nights a week and most weekends.It was hard to date around that.And I might still have a nagging urge to move on, but that didn’t mean I wanted to completely change who I was.I adored bartending.If she couldn’t accept that …
Hannah sighed.“Yeah, but what about the future?”
“This is my future.Bartending might not be glamorous, but I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”
“I don’t understand why you won’t leave.You’ve said yourself the new owner is an ass.”
“He’s …” And I was surprised to find myself on the cusp of defending him.Bastard.He’d started to get to me.“I’ve worked with people like that before.He’s just declaring his territory.It’s only been a week.”I didn’t really think Sam would change in the future, but I was about as willing to have this conversation with Hannah as I was to rehash our earlier one.
My mind, my body, and my spirit were drained.Everything in the last week had culminated in a bone-deep exhaustion.All I wanted was for things to keep working smoothly.Was that so hard to ask?
What had felt right a month ago (steady girlfriend, a job I liked and was good at) now left me questioning … Was I doing the right thing?Was I still happy?
Finally alone,I weighed my feelings from last night.I knew I’d forgive Hannah (some part of me had already).Yes, it sucked, and I wasn’t going to discount my hurt, but I got it.Not everyone’s parents were onboard or enthusiastic.My dad still had issues with it.Sure, he was supportive, but he never could understand that I was still bi, no matter which gender I was dating.
Eventually, I just accepted his support (“You do whatever you want, sweetheart.As long as you’re happy.”) and let the rest slide.
So, yeah.I got that it wasn’t easy.I’d just hoped that maybe being someone’s girlfriend would have extended to, oh, I don’t know, not being blindsided by bi-erasure at the dinner table?But, hey, this was my first relationship rodeo, so what did I know?
Before I knew it, I was pulling butter and eggs out of my fridge.This called for cookies.The good kind.
