Ada offered her a soft, knowing smile. “You need to let one of them go.”
God. That thought made Jo miserable instantly.
How was she supposed to let Amelia go after everything they’d shared lately? The comfort, the connection, the things said. And how could she let Lia go after the most mind-blowing, anonymous encounters she’d ever allowed herself? After finally feeling seen, in some strange way, without being seen at all?
Why did it have to be this way?
“I don’t know how to do that,” Jo admitted. “I don’t know if Icando that.”
“Well, you have to dosomething. This isn’t healthy.”
Oh, Jo knew that. She knew it deep in her gut, in the way her heart ached every time she thought about Amelia’s face, or the sound of Lia’s voice in the dark. It didn’t change the fact that she felt like she was moving forward for the first time in months, instead of being stuck in the same old cycle of guilt and shame and not being enough.
And it was all because of two women she couldn’t have.
“Things will be okay. I’ve been through worse.”
“In that case,” Ada stood, brushing invisible lint from her dress, “I’m going to get you the dark room form and another drink.”
Jo looked up, grateful for her best friend’s steady presence, even when her own mind felt like quicksand.
“Same again?” Ada asked.
“Yes, please.”
Ada returned a few minutes later, carrying two drinks and no slip of paper. She set the drinks down first, then offered Jo a small smile.
Jo frowned. “What?”
“Apparently.” Ada sat back down and cleared her throat. “No one’s taken the dark rooms tonight. Not a single person signed in.”
Jo froze. “Wait, what?”
“Yep. Even the receptionist was surprised. I asked twice in case she hadn’t heard me right the first time.”
“So, Lia’s not here.” Jo’s fingers tightened around the base of her glass when Ada shook her head.
The ache that followed was immediate and disorienting. Jo hadn’t expected to feelactualsadness at not seeing Lia. And now she was left with an emptiness she couldn’t reason with. She wasn’t just disappointed. No, she felt foolish…untethered. As though she’d bet on something that never really existed in the first place.
And maybe it hadn’t.
Jo leaned forward, her elbows braced on her knees. “I’ve been pining over a woman I don’t even know, Ada. Not really. I don’t know what she looks like, and I don’t know her real name. I don’t knowanythingbeyond the sound of her voice and the way she makes me feel for an hour at a time in the dark.”
Ada’s gaze was fixed firmly on Jo.
“I’ve been choosing her over Amelia,” Jo whispered as she shook her head. “Avoiding dinner, avoiding a real connection, just in case Lia showed up.” Jo scoffed as she sat back against the couch. “What the fuck am I doing?”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Ada said as she took Jo’s hand. “You’ve been hurting. You simply reached for what gave you comfort.”
“It’s not just about comfort anymore.” Jo stared down at her drink. “I keep thinking that maybe if I just get one more night with Lia, I’ll figure it all out. Maybe she’ll say something, or I will, and I’ll finally understand why I can’t get her out of my head.”
Ada frowned. “Do you think it’s about her…or about avoiding Amelia?”
Jo flinched. Because that was the real question, wasn’t it?
She inhaled a shaky breath. “I should have said yes to dinner with Amelia. I’ve been putting her off and telling myself it’s for the best, but it’s not. I miss her. She’s just that kind of woman.”
“Then maybe it’s time to ask yourself why you’re holding back.”
