Page 82 of February

Monica stood and walked over to the window, picturing how Bridgette had stood in this same spot not all that long ago. Almost immediately, thoughts of how good it had felt to kiss Bridgette started to overtake her mind, so she touched her fingertips to her lips and replayed the moment again and again, allowing herself a few minutes to think about what could happen between them if she didn’t have to go back to New York. She smiled, thinking about working at Southern Hospitality Greetings with Bridgette and how much fun she’d had strategizing with her the previous day. It had been themost fun Monica had had in years. She liked bouncing ideas off Bridgette and talking through how they could work far more than she did with anyone at Arnette.

Monica shook her head at that because while it would be fun, she had a job and an expensive house back in Manhattan, and soon, she’d be returning to it, leaving this view she’d grown to love and Bridgette behind. Deciding to take a shower after a long day, she turned around from the window, but just as she went to remove her sweater, there was a knock at the door.

CHAPTER 19

“You can’t just say that and then drop me off at home,” Bridgette said the instant Monica opened the door. “Also, hi. Aaron’s not in there, is he?” She looked around Monica to see if her son was in the room and had just heard Bridgette’s unplanned outburst.

“Hi, Bridgette,” Monica said with a smile. “No, he’s in his room. And what exactly did I say?”

“That it was a perfect first kiss.”

“Oh,” Monica let out, with her hand still on the door as if she were deciding on whether or not to open it farther and let Bridgette in or close it with her still on the outside.

“Yeah, that’s a big deal, Mon. You can’t just say that it was a perfect first kiss and expect me not to want a second one or not to talk about it at all.”

“I didn’t expect that. I told you we could talk about it later, when Aaron wasn’t around.”

“He’s not around right now, is he?”

“No, but–”

“I can’t sleep, Monica. I didn’t sleep at all last night. I hardly even remember brunch with my friends this morning because I was thinking about that damn kiss. They had to keep asking what was wrong with me. I got that text from Aaron saying you wanted me to go to dinner, and I believed it came from you.Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I was being optimistic for the first time in a long time, and I let myself believe that you wanted me there.”

“Ididwant you there,” Monica replied. “It’s not that Ididn’t. I just thought he’d want dinner to be just the two of us, or Iwouldhave invited you myself.”

Bridgette turned her head when she heard the elevator ding, indicating that someone was about to arrive on the floor.

“Can I come in, please?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Monica said, moving out of the way as if she hadn’t even realized Bridgette was still standing in the hall. When Bridgette walked inside, Monica closed the door behind her, walked farther into the room herself, and asked, “You didn’t sleep well?”

“No. Didyou?”

“Not really, no,” Monica admitted with a shy smile.

“So, can we talk about it? Maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight if we at least do that.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bridgette walked over to the window and took in the view. It was pitch-black outside, but the lights along the water and the businesses that were still open illuminated the river below. She wasn’t sure why she had walked over here, why she hadn’t stood still and insisted on a conversation, but she guessed it had something to do with the fact that she needed a moment. She’d stormed in here riding the energy high and bravado from the pep talk she’d given herself after dinner, but now that she was in the room with Monica, that energy and bravado were both gone, and she didn’t know what to do next.

“Bridge, I still don’t think we should…”

“I get it,” she said softly. “You’re leaving.”

“There’s more to it than that. I mean, you’re technically closer in age to my son than you are to me, and we’re totally different people. I–”

Bridgette turned around and replied, “The age thing? Really?That’s what you’re giving me?”

“It’s true.” Monica shrugged.

“But I don’t care.”

Monica let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Maybe not, but I stand by what I said. We had an amazingly perfect kiss that probably shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and I don’t regret it at all. I just think we should leave it at that, Bridge. If we do, we’ll always have it. We can keep it stored away in our hearts for the times when we’re lonely. We can think about it and how good it felt, and it’ll get us through another night.”

“Or, we could just kiss again, and more, and not be lonely at all,” Bridgette suggested. “It’s like you’re choosing to be lonely over what could happen here.”

“I’m not choosing it. I’m only suggesting that–”

Bridgette moved into her, leaving only a small gap between them, and lifted Monica’s chin with a soft hand.

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