“Oh,” she said, “before I forget, I’m picking Leo up from rehearsal tonight.”
“You are?” I asked.
She nodded. “It’s our anniversary this weekend. We swapped days, remember?” She grinned sheepishly.
I laughed. “Oh, right, where are you guys going?”
She bumped my shoulder. “We are headed to Little Italy.”
"I hope you have a great night."
And I did. I really did. If I'm being honest, I had a hard time when Becca came out. I loved her, still do. It's just different now. And now we are a weird little family full of love.
"You really like Eleanor, don't you?" Becca asked as she started to wipe the syrup off the counter.
I just shrugged.
“I'm happy for you. You deserved someone who could see you fully,” She said softly.
"It's not like that." I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a hand.
“Don’t even try to deny it. You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I’m falling for a woman, and it terrifies me but also feels horribly right’ look.”
I groaned. “You’re impossible.”
“I know,” she said cheerfully. “Go home. Shower. Text your girlfriend.”
“She’s not?—”
But she was already waving me off, smirking.
Walking into my place hit me in the chest in a gentle way, warm, familiar, lived-in. The small duplex I bought after the divorce wasn’t fancy, but it was mine.
Leo’s watercolor set was still spread across the kitchen table, blue and pink splatters everywhere, brushes drying in a jar like a bouquet. A half-built LEGO spaceship waited on the coffee table. A purple sock lay inexplicably on the stairs.
The place felt alive because of him.
But standing here now . . . it also felt quiet.
Quieter than I remembered.
I set my phone down and moved around the space, straightening a little, wiping paint flecks off the table. My mind kept drifting back to Eleanor in the rink lights, laughing as she flew around the curve. I almost kissed her, and everything inside me lit up like someone had struck a match.
I sank down onto the couch, dragging a hand through my hair.
God, I hadn’t felt this way in years. Not since before Becca came out. Not since before everything changed.
It was unsettling, wanting someone again. Wantingher.
Her laugh. Her soft, curvy body pressed against mine for that one dizzy moment.
Her blue eyes searched my face like she wasn’t sure she deserved desire but desperately wanted it anyway.
I let my head drop back against the cushion, heat curling low in my stomach. The memory of her body in my arms made it almost impossible to think of anything else.
