Page 85 of February

“When I got married, I thought Lily was it. I realize now that I was very wrong, but when you marry someone, you expect them to be the love of your life and the only person you’ll be with. We were together for years, but the longer we went on, the more unhappy I got. Still, I kept telling myself it was fine; all relationships go through these cycles. You’re happy for a while, you struggle a little and maybe have some bad times, and you rebound. I kept waiting for that rebound. I kept giving iteverything I had because I thought that we’d get back to where we’d been. Then, we didn’t. When the sex stopped altogether, I began to suspect, and I found out I was right. I actually had these conversations with myself about staying with her anyway. I never thought I’d be that person, and it was mainly because of Aaron. I worried that if I left her, I’d lose him, too, and I couldn’t do that. When I finally decided, though, that was it for me.” Monica paused, and Bridgette placed her hand on Monica’s stomach under her shirt to encourage her to continue. “I bought my place, and I moved out. I threw myself into work, and I thought I’d find someone else one day. Eventually, though, I stopped believing that because unless they worked at my office, there was no chance I’d meet anyone else because I was always working.”

“Not a lot of lesbians in your office?”

Monica chuckled and said, “I have no idea. There probably are, but I’m not going to date anyone there. I’m going to be the CEO one day.” Monica looked over at her. “I’ve resigned myself to this loneliness, Bridgette.”

“But why? You don’t have to.”

“Because it’s just easier,” she said, taking Bridgette’s hand on her stomach and entwining their fingers. “I thought I had my chance, but I picked the wrong woman. At least I got Aaron out of it.”

“Mon, you’re only forty years old; you’re not dead. You can still meet someone.” Bridgette removed her hand from Monica’s and pointed it at herself. “Hello. I’m Bridgette. We just made out.”

Monica laughed and rolled into Bridgette, who wrapped her arm around her and pulled her in.

“I like you,” Monica muttered against Bridgette’s neck.

“I like you, too,” Bridgette replied, laughing a little as she ran a hand under Monica’s shirt and moved it over the smooth skin of her back.

“Will you change into something more comfortable so thatwecan be more comfortable? Your jeans’ button is rubbing against my stomach.”

Bridgette kissed the top of Monica’s head and replied, “Sure. What am I wearing to sleep in?”

When she then felt Monica’s hand move to the aforementioned button, which she undid, Bridgette’s heart rate increased about tenfold.

“Calm down,” Monica told her with a chuckle. “It was bugging me, so I undid it. Now, it’s not.”

“Oh, right,” Bridgette replied.

“Just stay here for a few more minutes now.” Monica held on to her tightly.

“Anything else bugging you? Like your shirt or your pants? Underwear, maybe?”

Monica laughed against her neck again and said, “You wish.”

“Yes, I definitely do.”

They held on to one another for a long time before Monica finally pulled back, and for a second, her eyes went to the unbuttoned jeans. Bridgette heard her groan, which made her laugh. Monica stood and got her some clothes to wear before she called down to have some toiletries brought up for her.

Then, after Bridgette had changed and taken care of brushing her hair and teeth, she climbed into bed next to Monica, who was already under the covers. Bridgette held out her arm, encouraging Monica to sleep against her chest. When she heard Monica’s breathing slow, Bridgette finally closed her own eyes and wondered how she’d managed to end up here with another perfect ending to her day.

CHAPTER 20

Monica heard a knock on the door but knew it had to be way too early for housekeeping. She could feel the arms wrapped tightly around her waist, so she snuggled back into Bridgette even more. It had been a very long time since she’d had someone this close, someone to share a bed with at night, someone to hold her to remind her that she wasn’t alone. Then, there was that knock again, but it had to be on another door because there was no reason why–

“Shit,” she said as she pulled the blanket away and shot up out of bed, checking the time on the clock. “Shit. Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Bridgette asked her as she rolled over onto her back and rubbed her eyes.

“Mom!”

“Oh, shit.” Bridgette sat up just as quickly. “Aaron?”

“I’m late. He’s supposed to be at the airport.” Monica found her phone and shoved it into her purse. “Can you…”

“What? Hide?”

Monica looked at her pleadingly.

“Fine.”

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