Sarah took a risk… she leaned in and kissed Amy. Softly at first, tentatively, her lips barely brushing Amy’s. Amy was completely still, and for a terrible second Sarah thought she’d made a mistake.
She persevered though, gently caressing Amy’s lips with hers, playfully taking Amy’s top lip between her lips, a little playful dart of the tongue, and suddenly Amy’s lips came to life, kissing back, kissing deeply, Amy’s hands gripping the front of Sarah’s coat and pulled her closer, and Sarah’s fingers found Amy’s damp hair, pulling them closer together still. It was fierce and desperate, and it felt so, so good. She pulled Amy as close as she could, and for a few minutes there was nothing in the world save for the two of them, sheltering from the rain, wanting each other, and it felt so, so right.
Amy broke the kiss. She pulled back, breathing hard, her hands still gripping Sarah's coat, her forehead resting against Sarah's.
"God, I want you," Amy whispered, and Sarah felt a thrill run through her, understanding quite how raw that admission was given what had happened between them, and how much it musthave cost Amy to say it after the conversation in the bar. “I want this, I want us, I want to see what we could be. But I can’t be your Monday to Friday secret, Sarah. I can’t be the woman that you fit around your mentees and your family, left with whatever remains. I deserve more than that.”
“What about Luisa?” Sarah heard herself say, and regretted it immediately. It was childish and there was no parallel to be drawn here, Sarah knew that, but she’d said it anyway.
Amy pulled her head back and looked at Sarah, and for a moment there was a flash of the anger that Sarah had realised was still lurking beneath the surface. “I’ve just come out. I’ve just ended a long term relationship. Damn right I’m going to date people, Sarah. That’s what single people do. Yes, I’m going to see Luisa. I’m seeing her when I arrive in LA if you must know. Why on earth shouldn’t I? Because you want me to wait dutifully here while you work out whether you can fit me in between your other conquests?”
Sarah closed her eyes. Amy’s hands were still on her coat and she was close enough that Sarah could feel her breath on her face as she talked. She wanted nothing more than to pull Amy back to her, to kiss her again, to pretend that all of the complications didn’t exist.
“I’m sorry,” Amy said, her voice quieter now. “I… I know you didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I need you to think about what you want your life to actually look like. Not just because of the mentees. You need to think about everything. Your husband, your family, all of it. Because if we’re going to be involved romantically, if we’re going to really have something, I’m not going to be something you hide. I won’t live in the margins of your life.”
“That’s… you’re asking me to blow up my entire life.” Sarah’s voice had dropped to a whisper, the enormity of what Amy was saying finally landing.
“No. I’m asking you to be honest about it. Maybe for the first time.” Amy let go of Sarah’s coat and took a step back. “You told me you liked me. You told me this was real. If that’s true, then it’s too important to be a secret, isn’t it? But I understand too that you don’t want to risk everything, and that’s fine. If I’m dating other people too then I can’t ask you to destroy everything you have for me. What I’m asking is that you tell me how our future could look… because without that, it can’t happen.”
Sarah couldn’t speak and she realised that she had tears on her cheeks. Amy reached up and wiped one away with her thumb, gently, the tenderness of the gesture almost unbearable after everything they’d just said.
"Think about it. Tell me you understand what you've done with the mentees, tell me what you're going to do about it, and tell me what you actually want from your life. All three." She took another step back, right to the edge of the awning, almost into the rain. "Until then, we're done."
"Amy…"
"I fly on Thursday, then I'll be in LA for three weeks. That's plenty of time. You can find me before, or you can find me after." Amy’s voice was strong, though Sarah could see that she also had tears in her eyes. “You know how to reach me either way, and I’ll be there to talk.”
She turned and walked into the rain without looking back.
Sarah stood under the awning and watched her go, watched her figure grow smaller in the downpour, dark hair plastered to her shoulders, saw Amy hail a cab and get in.
She could still feel Amy’s lips against hers, Amy’s hands on her coat, Amy’s forehead pressed against hers. Beneath it, though, Sarah was in turmoil… everything she’d known and relied upon for the past five years had collapsed into rubble, and she was terrified at the thought of what might replace it.
She opened her umbrella, stepped out into the rain, and walked in the opposite direction to Amy, alone.
Amy
London
Amy woke on Wednesday morning to a flat that felt far too empty. She’d slept badly again, the third night in a row, lying in the middle of the bed that she and James had shared for years, unable to settle on either side because both felt wrong… his side felt like trespassing, hers felt like trying to hang on to something that was already gone. She’d eventually drifted off sometime after three, and when she woke at eight she felt worse than if she hadn’t slept at all.
Tuesday had been a long, long day. She’d gone to the gym in the morning, her usual one near work, and had pushed herself harder than usual, as if exercise could burn off the mess that she'd found herself in.
It hadn’t really worked.
She’d spent her time on the treadmill running until her legs burned but she’d barely noticed, her thoughts on Sarah’s face when she’d asked her the question, when she’d seen the almost imperceptible changes from shock, through to defiance, through to the realisation of something that she’d clearly not been ready to admit to anyone, not even herself.Was I too harsh?That question kept on circling through Amy’s head, and she didn’t know the answer. One moment she thoughtyes, the nextno. She couldn’t decide and so it circled, round and round until she stumbled and realised she’d run herself to near exhaustion.
Amy felt, a little, like she’d ambushed Sarah on Monday night. Just a little though… the frustration had been real, the story and the question had been planned, but the anger that came with it had surprised her. It came, she thought, from it being the first time she’d told anyone about her experience. The day she’d found out she’d qualified into her department should have been a joy. She’d been back with James by then and he’d come home with champagne, but it felt hollow when she knew what she’d done to secure it, even though she knew that she more than deserved it on merit alone. Saying it to Sarah had made it more visceral, more real, but the question that followed had been important because for there to be any chance of an Amy and Sarah she had to know that Sarah understood what her approach to mentoring had done to Amy and others as well as what she needed to do to make it right. It was worth the conversation because it could lead to something real, something meaningful between them rather than superficial, but it had been a tough message to give.
After the treadmill it had been the turn of the weights to feel Amy’s wrath, and then it had been home to wait for another difficult conversation… James.
James had come to the flat at lunchtime, and they’d spent most of the afternoon sat at the dining table working out the logistics of what they were calling their temporary separation, though both knew it was permanent. The biggest problem was the flat and what to do about that, but then also there were bills and joint accounts and whose name was on what.
To his immense credit, James was scrupulously fair about it all… no attempts to argue for a larger share of anything, no claims of compensation for hurt feelings, but then Amy wondered to herself whether that was simply what goes around comes around. She’d taken him back after all, eventually, after his own infidelity, so he could hardly claim the moral high ground now that her infidelities with Sarah and Luisa had come to light.
At one point, when they agreed that James would live in the flat while Amy was in LA and Amy would see if the room in Naomi’s houseshare was going to be available for her when she got back, they both cried. Something about the reality of that, so tangible, not abstract like their other arrangements, hit them both hard. Their life together, their shared routine and in-jokes and everything that came with it, was over and, despite their ups and downs, it had been good.
He’d left with a suitcase to go and stay at one of his rugby mate’s place, and she’d hugged him at the door, and then he’d walked to the lift and, once the door closed, she leaned against it and cried properly, the emotion and the complexity of the situation she’d created for herself overwhelming her.What the hell am I doing?she thought.And what the hell have I done?
