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  Kathryn sat at her desk late one afternoon playing with her antique abacus. Her parents had given it to her as a graduation gift and it often provided a therapeutic distraction from spreadsheets. Today, she found herself focusing on two lines. The top line was Tony and the line below was Andy.

  She flicked the beads back and forth, dissecting the similarities between them until eventually two beads remained. One was blue and one was red. She stared at those beads until they turned into four beads, then eight, and then the entire apparatus became a blur.

  It had only been a month, but already she felt more relaxed with Tony than she’d ever been with Andy. Tony was a joker with a laid back personality and she liked that. Since divorcing Andy, she’d improved her looks and her self-esteem. It was difficult to tell if her confidence with Tony was related to her increase in confidence in general, or if he brought the best out in her.

  She spun the two beads around and sighed.

  Three weeks later, Kathryn found herself staring at the same two beads, only this time she knew what they represented and she had to face it. They symbolized what was missing from her relationship with Andy and now Tony. What disturbed her most was that she could only identify the missing piece since she’d been with Claire. Claire had unlocked a door inside her and as much as she tried, and she had certainly tried her best with Tony, it seemed that only Claire held the key to the door. If Kathryn were a coin, she was missing her opposite side. There was a real possibility that Claire was the opposite side to her coin. The thought terrified her.

  That evening she spoke to Tony. In business, Kathryn rarely shied away from difficult conversations, but in her personal life, she struggled with confrontation. The look of disappointment in his eyes when she said she needed some space was distressing. She fell short of the old line, “It’s not you, it’s me,” but the implication was the same. She agreed to keep in touch but she wasn’t sure how that would work out. He said he wouldn’t delete her number yet, but would wait in case she changed her mind or “worked through her stuff,” as he put it. He also offered to slow things down if she thought it was moving too fast and although she thanked him for his thoughtfulness, she explained that she didn’t think that was the problem.

  The problem was Claire.

  Tony wasn’t Claire.

  That was the problem.

  For some people, the revelation that they had feelings for someone of the same sex could be one of the most enlightening experiences in their life. For Kathryn it was a sharp and dangerous double-edged sword. On one hand, she now at least knew why she had been struggling to connect with Tony on a deeper level. On the other hand, she wasn’t ready for what it all meant. At best, she might be bisexual, at worst, gay. She shook her head. What a ridiculous notion. There was nothing wrong with being bisexual, or gay, she had just never imagined one of those labels would be hers.

  Kathryn knew what she didn’t want to be. The challenge came with becoming what she was. Right at that moment, she was utterly confused.

  *

  Claire had no idea Kathryn was even home, let alone in the bathroom splashing cool water over her face, tears and mascara streaking her cheeks, which was exactly how Claire found her when she barged in to clean her teeth.

  “Oh, sorry. I should have knocked.” Claire turned to leave, but her compassion won out. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” Kathryn glanced at her reflection but remained silent.

  Claire rinsed a face washer in hot water before handing it to Kathryn. “Something bad must have happened to upset you this much. Is it Tony?”

  “It’s not Tony, it’s me.” Kathryn shook her head. “What the hell did you do to me? I was fine until I met you, until you touched me, until you fucked me. Now look at me.” She sobbed into her hands.

  Claire had no idea where the outburst had come from. She stood beside Kathryn, tentatively rubbing her shoulder. “I didn’t fuck you,” she said gently. “I thought we shared something special, something intimate. I’m sorry if you feel like I simply fucked you.” She was disgusted by the implication and struggled to understand where the attack was coming from.

  Perhaps Kathryn had jumped in too deep, too soon with Tony. He was the first after Andy, but that had ended nearly three years ago now. There was a small part of her that was pleased Kathryn wasn’t as happy as she could have been, but that was selfish and the pang of hope it ignited was quenched when she reminded herself that Kathryn wasn’t gay.

  “Why do you have to be so nice, so bloody diplomatic?” blubbered Kathryn.

  “You’re my friend, honey.” Claire pushed aside her own feelings. “Regardless of what happened between us, I care about you.” Claire tried again. “What happened with Tony?”

  “I really like him. What’s wrong with me?” She turned to Claire, burying her face in her shoulder. “First Andy and now Tony.”

  “There’s plenty more fish in the sea.”

  “That’s not the point.” Kathryn wiped her eyes and nose leaving a shiny glaze on the back of her hand. “What if I’m not supposed to live in the sea?”

  “What are you saying?”

  Kathryn shook her head. “I have no idea what I’m saying. Just forget it.”

  “No, hang on. What did you mean?” Claire knew what she wanted her to mean, but she couldn’t allow her rising hopes to take over.

  “What if I’ve had it wrong all this time?” Kathryn’s tears returned, a little hysterically this time. “It would explain why I’m not feeling what I’m supposed to feel with Tony and why I feel like I do with you.”

  Claire’s heart froze. She knew when she had a quiet moment to relive this conversation it would propel her back to the beginning with Kathryn, right back to wanting her and needing her. Moving on was never as simple as it seemed.

  She counted to ten for composure. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  Kathryn struggled to her feet and Claire followed her into her bedroom. She shifted a pile of clothes off the bed while Kathryn wrestled with her pyjamas, her chest convulsing with heaving sobs.

  “How can you stand to look at me?” She eyed Claire. “I’m such a mess.”

  “You’re hurting, Kathryn.” Claire was struggling to keep her emotions in check, struggling not to take Kathryn in her arms and soothe her wounds. Claire wanted to take her away, fix her, and bring her back to life.

  Claire held the sheet aloft and Kathryn silently snuggled low in the bed.

  “What are you going to do now?” asked Kathryn.

  Claire wasn’t entirely sure what she meant but answered with the safe option. “Might go and watch some TV.”

  “Watch some with me? I don’t fancy being alone.”

  Claire fancied being alone. She needed to digest the fact that Kathryn was probably attracted to her, that Tony was a diversion, and that she was back to square one. Like a flooding ballast tank, Claire could feel the attraction and desire return to occupy every cell in her body. It was much easier mourning the loss of a straight woman dabbling in experimental fun than it was a gay woman not yet coming to terms with her sexuality or attraction.

  “Sure, why not,” she found herself saying.

  They settled in to watch a movie, and before long, Kathryn’s head rested on Claire’s shoulder.

  “You’re so soft,” murmured Kathryn, turning slightly sideways and draping her arm around Claire’s middle.

  Claire attempted to concentrate on the movie.

  “Do you think perhaps women are too soft for men?”

  Claire thought that was absurd and wondered if Kathryn had swallowed too much Listerine, but she chose her words carefully. “I think we can be different things for different people.”

  “Why are some lesbians like men?”

  Kathryn’s emotionally strained philosophical side, while far from becoming, was at least amusing.

  “Because that’s who they are,” Claire answered simply.

  “But you’re not lik
e that.”

  “No, because I am who I am.”

  “Did you know that most people think lesbians are all butch and ugly?”

  Claire saw where this was headed. “Does it worry you what the population at large thinks?”

  “No, of course not,” Kathryn hurried to say.

  “Did you know that most people think accountants are boring?”

  “Well, that might actually be true.”

  They laughed, genuine and easy.

  “You’re impossible, Kathryn Mercer, you know that?”

  Kathryn suddenly looked serious. “But you know I’m probably not gay, right?”

  “Well, that’s open for interpretation.”

  Kathryn extracted herself from Claire’s embrace, her voice steady and serious. “No, it isn’t. I’m telling you how it is. I don’t want to mislead you.”

  “So, what happened tonight with Tony?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Kathryn’s courage vanished and her voice reduced to a whisper.

  But Claire wanted to talk about it. “Did you have a fight, or worse?”

  “I honestly don’t want to talk about it.” Kathryn fled to stand by the window.

  “Is he not quite up to my standard?” asked Claire.

  “You’re out of line. I’m not discussing this with you, Claire. It has nothing to do with you.”

  Claire became frustrated. “You and I had sex, we shared something special, and it could have everything to do with me.”

  “We shared nothing!” spat Kathryn. “We shared a mistake. I’m not like you, or Jess, or Alex. I’m normal.”

  Claire scoffed at the word normal. “And that’s why things are going so well with Tony, is it?”

  Kathryn remained silent.

  “I thought so.” Claire rose to leave.

  “You don’t know me, Claire, and you certainly don’t know what’s best for me.”

  The vision in Claire’s mind flashed back to an outstretched Kathryn on her bed, naked and beautiful. But I know every inch of you.

  Claire’s anger and frustration subsided as quickly as it erupted. “I know you like to feel wanted. I know you like knowing I want you and desire you.”

  “Claire, stop.”

  “I know you like a slow seduction. I know you like me to take away your control.”

  Kathryn turned, tears streaming down her face. “Please, Claire, just stop.”

  “I know you’re frightened. I know you’re struggling with your feelings.”

  Kathryn lowered her eyes and shook her head.

  “I know you like to know that my one and only priority, when I’m inside you and I’m licking you, is to make you come.” Claire stepped dangerously close. “I know you want me now.”

  “Claire…” Kathryn’s voice deserted her as Claire tenderly touched her cheek.

  “I know you want me to take away the pain.”

  Kathryn’s eyes met Claire’s for the first time.

  In a ghost of a kiss, Claire allowed their lips to scarcely touch. “Tell me you want me to stop.”

  Kathryn whispered something, but it was barely audible.

  “Pardon?” Claire kissed her again, the moisture uncomfortably building between her legs.

  “I don’t want you to stop.”

  “Will you let me take your pyjamas off, blindfold you, lay you on the bed, and make you feel incredible?”

  “I really want you to do that,” said Kathryn, giving in at last and pressing her lips against Claire’s. “Why do you make me feel this way?”

  Claire cupped Kathryn’s face. “I’m not making you feel anything, darling. Don’t you understand?” She stepped out of Kathryn’s reach. “If this is so bad and not something you want, choose to make it stop.”

  “Claire?” pleaded Kathryn.

  “More to the point, if you like this feeling so much, choose to feel it with Tony.”

  Kathryn pulled her back in. “You know I can’t do that,” she breathlessly panted. “I know I’ve been foolish.” Kathryn kissed Claire hard.

  After slowly removing her own clothes and undressing Kathryn before tying a T-shirt over her eyes, it was Claire, in the end, who lay on the bed, facing upward.

  “I don’t want you to think. I just want you to feel,” said Claire. “Can you do that for me?”

  Kathryn nodded as Claire guided her to the bed.

  “I want you to ride my face, to grind into me, to let my tongue explore deep inside you, and when you can’t take it anymore, I want you to come in my mouth.”

  Her words had the desired effect; Kathryn stumbled and had to steady herself.

  With her hands guiding Kathryn’s hips, Claire lowered her wetness onto her face and savoured every moment of pleasuring Kathryn.

  Kathryn could deny her feelings all she liked, but the slick film of arousal that quickly spread over Claire’s face told a much different story. Wanting to prolong the experience this time, Claire unhurriedly teased, ignoring Kathryn’s moans of encouragement.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Kathryn said.

  Claire ignored her and drove her tongue deep inside.

  “God, that feels so good.” Kathryn adjusted to open herself more to Claire. “I would die if you stopped now.”

  Claire had no intention of stopping, and if she had her way, not a day would pass when Kathryn didn’t want this. Claire reached behind Kathryn and gently inserted the tip of her forefinger into Kathryn’s ass.

  “Oh!” It was an exclamation of surprise, not pain.

  Kathryn didn’t ask her to remove it, so she continued.

  “A little more,” moaned Kathryn.

  Claire hadn’t expected Kathryn to want more and she slowly pushed her finger up to the second knuckle.

  “Oh God, how do you do this to me?” Kathryn was barely speaking, more so panting the words with every thrust.

  In response to Kathryn’s increasing tempo, Claire withdrew her tongue and concentrated on Kathryn’s ass and clit. Her finger pulsed inside while she eagerly sucked, licked, and nibbled her swollen clit. As Kathryn grew closer and closer to orgasm, Claire fucked harder with her finger, now inside as far as it could go.

  Kathryn groped for the T-shirt covering her eyes. She stuffed it in her mouth before violently convulsing as her orgasm gripped her.

  Claire wanted Kathryn to feel the depth of her desire, so she moved her mouth to Kathryn’s opening, relishing every last drop of her intense orgasm.

  A part of Claire felt exhilarated. This woman that she had fought so gallantly to extinguish her desire for, now surrendered—without any real protest—to her. The need she sensed almost tangibly radiate from Kathryn was addictive. She thrived on bestowing to Kathryn exactly what she knew she wanted and needed.

  Like all addictions, it came with a price. Claire knew she would pay dearly for what had just happened. Her ego and sanity would be delivered a sharp blow, but it was her heart that would unfortunately suffer yet another break.

  In an unprecedented move, one even Claire wondered if she could execute, she leaned over and kissed the sated Kathryn, who had flopped beside her on the bed. “Good night, Kathryn.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  Claire nodded. “You said before we had sex last time—for the first time—that you felt no need to name what you felt or what you were. It seems to me that the name is the single thing holding you back right now.”

  Kathryn stuttered a failed protest.

  “Let me finish,” said Claire. “I don’t need to tell you what has happened tonight. You have all the information and all the answers. Don’t get me wrong, I can foresee the same complications you can, but I’m comfortable with my label, and my life. I have nothing to contemplate, nothing to work out, not one ounce of confusion messing with my head, and certainly no regrets. You, on the other hand, will likely experience all those things.”

  “So, why go? Can’t you see I need you? Stay with me, please.”

  Claire smiled sad
ly. “I’m sorry. I already know the outcome of your confusion. I saw it last time, I experienced it last time, and I can’t stay with you now knowing that when I go, you’ll do all you can to convince yourself that Tony is the answer.”

  Kathryn’s eyes lowered.

  “See?” Claire felt it like a kick in her stomach. “It’s already happening. But just try to remember this for me—nothing you have ever experienced in your life has made you feel like I do.” Claire reached the door. “You deserve to be loved, Kathryn.”

  “You’re in love with me?”

  Claire didn’t face her. “Maybe not yet, but wouldn’t it be nice to find out if I could be?”

  Claire quietly closed the door behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Kathryn woke early the following morning to the sound of Claire sneaking out the front door. When she looked out the window, she saw she was wearing her running gear. Claire was nothing if not predictable. She quickly threw on a pair of shorts, scooped Jess’s car keys from the hallstand, and stepped into a glorious morning. The temperature was already rising and she drove for less than ten minutes listening to the six a.m. news.

  She was surprised to see so many people in the park so early and she briefly wondered if all the runners were out early attempting to shake off what happened to them last night, just like Claire.

  She found the bench where she’d waited for Claire the day she sprained her ankle and she sat waiting again.

  She had neither the energy nor the inclination to force uncomfortable exercise on herself to deal with her stress, and regardless, she’d barely slept last night. Why was it that soul searching was best done in the dead of night, the loneliest time of day? She had tossed and turned all night contemplating who she was and how she became that person. She didn’t enjoy the process nor was she delighted with the outcome. She had orgasmed, felt as high as she believed she possibly could, and then crashed back down to earth when Claire had left her alone with her thoughts.

  When she saw the familiar running gait of Claire in the distance, Kathryn stood on the path to attract her attention.

  “I thought I’d see you here this morning.” She gestured to the park bench.