“I just know that I can usually make it better,” he said simply. Hope rolled her eyes with a smile, but knew it to be true… his cooking was phenomenal. “But I do like their Bolognese here.”
Hope sipped her wine, letting her gaze travel from Grant on her left, his big, husky and strong body so inviting, to Van on her right. His blonde hair fell over his brow again and she reached out, pushing it off his forehead. He caught her hand and kissed her palm, his green eyes searching hers intensely.
“I love you,” she whispered quietly, cupping his cheek with her palm, before turning her gaze to Grant. “And you. I love you, too. Thank you for not making me choose.”
“Never,” Grant murmured low, his dark eyes soft as he stared into hers. “Thank you for having the courage to choose both of us.”
Tears stung her nose and she blinked rapidly, but twin tears slid down her cheeks. “Ugh, you’re going to make me cry. I’m going to ruin my makeup.” Van chuckled, squeezing her hand. She took a shuddering breath in then placed her napkin on the table. “I’ll be right back, I just want to make sure my mascara isn’t making a mess of my face.”
She stood, but Van didn’t release her hand, pulling her toward him. She ducked to kiss him softly, sweetly, before weaving her way through the tables to the restroom.
She used the restroom, then stepped out to look in the mirror. Her mascara was a little smudged, but not terribly so. She used a paper towel to dab at the smudges as an older woman stepped into the restroom. Tossing the mascara blackened paper towel into the garbage, she washed her hands, and Hope smiled awkwardly to the older woman standing at the sink beside her. The woman was staring at her, a look of disgust on her face.Hope glanced in the mirror as if to check for a piece of food stuck in her teeth, then dropped her gaze to her feet to check for toilet paper on her shoe. Nothing. But still the woman stared.
Hope pulled another paper towel out of the dispenser and began drying her hands.
“You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Hope froze, drawn up short and she turned to stare at the woman, her mouth hanging open slightly. She glanced around, as if to make sure the woman was indeed speaking to her, but they were the only two in the ladies restroom. She shook her head slowly, trying to make sense of what the woman was speaking of. She recognized the woman; she had been sitting at a table near them. “I’m sorry, what?”
The woman’s lips thinned, and then her shoulders straightened as if drawing courage, and she whispered, “You’re a slut.”
“Excuse me?” Hope gasped, shock and outrage battling for supremacy. Tears stung her nose. She blinked rapidly.What the fuck?“I’m sorry…?”
“This is a public, family environment,” the woman hissed. “There are…there are children here. You should be ashamed of yourself. Being with two men…”
Hope gasped, realizing what the woman must have seen, her interactions with both Van and Grant. Hope drew herself up straighter, refusing to let this woman intimidate her. “I don’t think my life is of any concern to you, and if it’s offensive to you, don’t watch.”
“You’re doing it right out in the open!” the woman hissed, outraged. Her face was turning red and she was trembling. “We shouldn’t be subjected to your whoring—”
A startled laugh choked out of her. Hope shook her head in astonishment and said quietly, “I’m sorry, we’re done here.”
“You think this is funny?” the woman screeched, furious now at Hope’s apparent insolence. “What is going to happen to those people having to witness your loose morals—”
“Polyamory isn’t contagious, I think you’ll be fine,” Hope snapped, angry now in her own right. She was shaking now, too.
“Your taboo lifestyle is—”
“Taboo lifestyle? What is so taboo about loving two people?” Hope gasped, losing her composure. The woman’s face turned a mottled red in rage. “And who are you to judge me for who I’ve fallen in love with?”
The woman scoffed in disgust. “This isn’t how society works. You choose. One or the other. Only those with no self-respect would demean themselves by allowing two men—” her words cut off suddenly and her face pulled into a look of utter disgust, as though she was too horrified to even finish the sentence.
Hope’s head tipped back as though she’d been physically struck.Wow. “So I’m a slut for being in love with two incredible men—"
The laugh that escaped the woman this time was ugly, born of pure ignorance and hate, and made Hope’s chest tighten as the woman hissed, “You can’t possibly love them both—"
“Do you like sunsets?” she asked suddenly, cutting the woman off. She looked at her as if Hope had lost her mind. Maybe she had. She was shaking.
“Who doesn’t love sunsets. What does this have to do with—”
“What about Christmas lights?” Hope asked, again interrupting. “Do you like those, too?”
The woman took a longer time to answer, her lips pulling tight. “Yes.”
“Does your enjoyment of one negate or invalidate the enjoyment you get from the other?” Hope asked.
The woman looked like she was choking on her tongue. She swallowed. “No.”
“Could you choose to never love one again, simply because you love the other?” Hope asked, pressing her point.
