Page 7 of Meet Me Halfway
“Yeah. It’s great having a girlfriend for company all the time.”
The word girlfriend resonates deep. I doubt she meant it like I wish she did, but God, what I wouldn’t give if she did. And that’s when I open my mouth and insert said back foot.
“I love you.” A klaxon is blaring in my head, telling me to abort mission, but the words are out, and I cannot unsay them. For a wild moment, I’m not sure I want to. Then I look over at Vivi, and she’s frozen. Not so much as a muscle twitches. “Vivi, I –”
“You do?” she breathes.
Well shit. My brains scrambles to figure out what to do. Do I lie and take it back? Do I grow a backbone and own it? Fuck it. In for a penny, and all that.
“Yeah, I do. I didn’t intend blurting it out like that – actually, if I’m being honest, I didn’t intend telling you at all. But now that it’s out there, yes. Yes, I do.” With my free hand, I reach out and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re so easy to love.”
“I have a confession to make.”
“Is it bad?”
“I guess it depends on whose perspective you’re looking at it from.”
I sigh and brace. I doubt it’s anything I want to hear, but here goes nothing. “Tell me.”
She swallows, opens her mouth, and closes it right back up again. For long, agonising seconds, she sits there rubbing absently at the top of my hand like she’s trying to get a mark out. Finally, when I’m pretty much coming out of my skin, she blurts, “I love you too.”
Hold the phone. You say what now?
“I’m sorry. Come again?” Because I’m damn sure I didn’t hear the words I think I heard. I think it’s more a case of what I wanted to hear.
Looking me dead in the eye, she says, “I love you too, Fay. I didn’t know how to tell you. And I sure as hell have absolutely less than no clue how to tell my husband how I feel. Still, there it is.”
I’m sure we don’t have a lot of time left until Cal returns, but this is not a conversation we can simply leave hanging with no resolution. It’s just too damn important.
“What are we going to do? I don’t want to be the cause of your marriage breaking up. But I don’t want to live without you either. I’m just not sure how much longer this arrangement of convenience is going to last. What happens to us when Cal decides he’s tired of sharing you?”
“I – um … I have a — a question to ask,” she stutters hesitantly.
“I’m listening.”
“Let me say this first. I love my husband. I’ve known from the very beginning he’s the one for me. I never once thought I would fall in love with someone else, without falling out of love with him.” She takes a deep breath. “If Cal were amenable to it, would you consider living in a polyamorous relationship with us?”
We hear Cal’s car pull up in the drive just as I open my mouth to answer her. Knowing he’s back, the words stall in my throat.
Vivi squeezes my hand. “Well?”
“In a heartbeat, if it means being able to be with you. I’m pretty fond of Cal. It wouldn’t be a hardship.”
His car door slams, and we’re out of time.
Giving me that soft Vivi smile that warms my heart, she leans over and places a gentle kiss on my lips, and she says, “Leave it with me for a bit then. I’ll figure out a way to talk to Cal.”
Vivienne
It’s been days since my conversation with Fay, and I’ve yet to scrape the courage together to bring it up with Cal. But she’ll be here this weekend again, and it wouldn’t be fair to keep her hanging. I just don’t know how to broach the topic.
As a last resort, I take to my laptop to see if Professor Google has any answers for me. Pathetic, I know. But at this point, I’m out of ideas. Surprisingly, after roughly an hour of searching, I stumble across a discussion site where people in similar situations as mine seek advice on how to navigate this minefield.
Another hour and a half surfing the site, and the realisation hits me that the only way to do this is to simply rip the Band-Aid off. Just grow a backbone and be honest with my husband. And pray like hell he doesn’t leave my ass. I close the tab and ponder how best to broach the subject.
Getting to my feet, I go in search of Cal. There’s no time like the present, I guess. And if I don’t do it now, there’s a possibility I may never be brave enough to do it at all. Not finding him anywhere in the house, I head for his workshop in the back of the garage.
“Cal?”
