by A. K. Rose
Learning to Love Again
A.K. Rose
© 2016, A.K. Rose. All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
ALSO BY A.K. ROSE
Laura and Mel Series
We Need to Talk (Book 1)
Second Chances (Book 2)
Through it All (Book 3)
Always (Book 4)
For my mother, who has always said I should write a book. I’m fairly certain this wasn’t the book she had in mind, but we work with what we’re given!
ONE
They sat in the back corner of a dimly lit greasy spoon, talking, as usual. Every Friday night for months, Jessica Taylor met her best friend for dinner to chat and catch up on the activities of the week. She was trying to mop up the aftermath of a particularly devastating break up, one that had obliterated her confidence and smashed her heart to smithereens.
When Jess’s long-time boyfriend unexpectedly exited stage right, Cassie Hollander stepped in and provided her friend a standing date, putting her own needs aside. They’d meet and talk about work—mostly what they hated about work—about music, about their lack of a love life. They’d plan, scheme, and laugh. There was always plenty of laughter.
One night, the standard-issue lack of a love life storyline took a different, surprising turn.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Cassie said, hiding her eyes by focusing them on the half-empty mug in her hands, a little dribble of dried coffee streaking down the side. And then, after a beat, to fill the silence she’d just created, “Oh, crap. Forget I said that. I’m sorry.”
Jessica was stunned. Or maybe flabbergasted is a better word. Whatever word you choose, she was completely surprised. The air in her lungs was sucked out involuntarily; she simply couldn’t speak. There they sat, avoiding eye contact, the diner surrounding them with chairs and tables and a waitress refilling sugar containers. It wasn’t quiet, not really, but you could’ve heard the proverbial pin drop at their booth.
“You’re what?” Jessica finally said, grasping for words after a too-long delay. She and Tony had been together a year before he walked out, and she’d always dated men before that. There was no precedent, no history of relationships with women, so the last thing she was expecting was her best friend to profess her love for her, which she assumed was not the same kind of love she held in her heart. A friendship love. A sisterly love. Not that kind of love.
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Cassie backtracked, mocha brown eyes still unable to meet her friend’s, her fingers nervously turning the mug around in circles on the table, coffee sloshing in a rhythmic whirlpool as she did.
“Cass, come on, that’s kind of hard to forget. You can’t just say something like that and then say, forget about it.”
Silence. Then sipping of cold coffee. Then, “I know . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just . . . Look Jess, just forget it. This is my problem, not yours.” Cassie hesitated, but finally looked up. The pain evident in her eyes reflected the fact that she was deadly serious.
“Okay,” Jessica offered, reaching across the table to offer the comfort of her hand on Cassie’s. “I won’t lie and say I’m not completely surprised, because I’m completely surprised. But, you know I love you. You’re my best friend.”
“I know.”
“It’s just . . .”
“I know.” Cassie did know, and it was obvious it was tearing her up inside.
“How long have you felt this way?”
“Longer than I care to admit, to be honest. I was rooting against Tony for a good long while.”
“You were? Wow, I had no idea. I mean, in hindsight, yes, he was not Mr. Right, but I didn’t know you were so invested in his failure.” Jessica blinked a few times too many, the nervous tic she’d been trying to train out of herself rearing its ugly head under the circumstances.
Just then, the waitress appeared with her sugary sweet smile and pot of steaming coffee in one hand. “Can I get you girls anything else?”
“More coffee,” they echoed in unison. They weren’t done yet, not even close.
“Thanks,” Cassie offered to the waitress, Jill. They’d been going to the diner with enough frequency that it felt like they knew her. Her daughter was in the second grade and she waitressed so she could get the girl ready for school, be there when the bus dropped her off afterwards, and hang out with her until her husband came home from his nine-to-five. It was admirable, Cassie thought, because Jill was whip smart and could have a thriving career in the business world if she’d wanted it. She didn’t want it; she’d told them as much many times. Her daughter came first.
“So . . .” Jessica started as Jill turned on her heel to go tend to other customers, “I don’t know the protocol for this situation, I’m sorry. But, how long have you known you’re gay? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Oh come on Jess, we live in Texas for crying out loud. I’ve hidden my true self most of my life—my kind aren’t especially welcomed here, you know that . . . and I’ve known since I was twelve.”
They lived in Austin, probably the most liberal and welcoming place in the state, but Cassie grew up in the Houston suburbs. Jessica knew exactly what her friend meant. Texas was their home, but there were certain things that were a given in the state: God, guns, and she was realizing in the moment, a very large closet in which its gay and lesbian population could hide.
“Yeah, I guess I do know,” Jessica agreed, “But you’ve, well, I’ve only known you to date men. At least, since I’ve known you.”
“That’s the key. Since you’ve known me. When I moved to Austin, I made a promise to myself. I was going to live my life on the straight and narrow—pun intended. No more fooling around with girls, no more living a life of secrets and lies and sneaking around so no one I knew would find out my truth. I had enough of that, I just didn’t want to do it anymore.” Cassie went back to staring down at the white mug, very interested in the steam rising from the surface of the weak coffee Jill had just poured into it. They lived in a coffee culture town, but Alejandro’s wasn’t known for its particularly great roasts. It was known for large volumes of cheap food—essential in a college town—and for its late operating hours. The coffee was mediocre, but it flowed with regularity; it kept the eyes of the sleep-deprived students that frequented the diner propped open just enough. They weren’t the normal clientele, and that’s just why they liked it. They wouldn’t see anyone they knew there—it was all but guaranteed.
It was approaching midnight—they’d been in that back booth for several hours—and Cassie had just given Jessica a glimpse into her world that she hadn’t expected. They’d known each other about five years, and Jessica suddenly felt like she didn’t know her best friend at all.
“Wow, I had no idea. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to stifle yourself all this time. I can’t imagine what that must feel like . . . You know I love you, right? I feel like we’re sisters, though, you know?” Jessica was doing her level best to comfort her friend and not break her heart at the same time. That Cassie had trusted her with this information was both an honor and a curse. She wanted to be a good friend. She wanted to offer the same shoulder to cry on that Cassie had offered
selflessly to her for months, but it was awkward to be both the shoulder to cry on and the reason she was crying.
“I know, seriously, just forget it. I mean it. Forget it.”
“Okay, but, I really won’t be able to forget it, you know that. It took a lot of courage and guts for you to do what you just did. That’s not lost on me . . . it is a little weird for me to offer to help you get over me, but . . .” The irony of the situation was too much. How should she handle this? She didn’t know.
“You don’t have to say it, I get it. You’re not into me like that. It’s fair, I understand. You know, we really should get going. They probably need to turn this table over . . .”
They didn’t need to turn the table over. The diner was practically empty by then. But, Jessica knew the conversation was over. Cassie’s heart was broken. She couldn’t fix it, at least not the way it needed to be fixed.
“Yeah, okay,” Jessica agreed, sliding out of the booth and grabbing her black puffy coat from the hook on the wall behind them. It was unseasonably cold in Austin for October. She hoped the early cold snap didn’t mean they’d actually have winter that year—one of the things she loved about Central Texas was that they didn’t get particularly harsh winters. Summer was another story, but that was far enough in the future that it wasn’t on her mind at the moment.
They’d walked to that parking lot together a dozen times, but this time was different. This time, they didn’t speak, didn’t look at each other. Jessica held the door open for Cassie to exit first, and walked to her car with her, unsure what to say, the whir of traffic on the frontage road a steady distraction of headlights and accelerations.
“Well,” Jess said, a tentative tone in her voice, “next week? Same time?”
“I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
“I just don’t know. It’s probably not healthy for me to see you like this, knowing I can’t have all of you. And, it’s not healthy for you to know how I really feel. You’ll feel guilty, I know you. You’ll want to fix things, and this isn’t something you can fix.”
“What the hell, Cassie? You’re breaking up with me as your friend? You don’t want to see me again because of this? Do you realize how nuts that sounds?”
“It sounds nuts to you because you’re not in my head. You don’t have the feelings I have, so it’s easy for you—nothing would change. We’ve been friends, we’d still be friends. I don’t want to be just friends. I want more than you can give me, so it’s not fair to either of us to keep doing this.”
Jessica realized her friend was right. And, it sucked. Cassie had helped pull her from the depths of a dark depression she’d worked herself into when Tony told her he loved someone else. He’d been seeing another woman for a couple weeks on the sly and he knew she was “the one.” They’d been together a year and he never thought she was “the one,” but he decided too quickly that this new woman was his soul mate. It killed her. Cassie stayed by her side, talked her off the ledge on a daily basis, and she just realized why. She had been kind of a crappy friend, so selfish, so focused on her needs, and she’d completely ignored all the signs that Cassie was being overly-loyal for more than one reason.
“Well, shit,” Jessica said defiantly, leaning against the passenger door of her friend’s Jeep. She should have realized; she should have been more tuned in—the woman drove a two-door Jeep for Christ’s sake. Wasn’t that some sort of queer smoke signal? She’d totally missed it. She didn’t really have a defense for Cassie’s argument. She had to rest her case, at least for a little while. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.” She let out a long, audible exhale and stepped forward to give Cassie a big hug. “Give it some time, okay? Don’t just cut me out of your life because of this. If you change your mind . . . when you realize I would be a terrible girlfriend, please, call me, okay? I’m going to miss you.”
TWO
The weekend had gotten off to an unusual start, to say the least. Jessica couldn’t sleep when she got home Friday night after the talk with Cassie. Part of it was too much bad coffee, but part of it was her restless mind. She kept replaying their conversation over and over until she couldn’t stand it. She was tired and wired—a horrible combination if there ever was one. She couldn’t imagine how Cassie felt. How long she’d waited to spill her guts, only to be shot down. Jessica only hoped she’d handled it well. What do you say when your best friend tells you she’s both gay and in love with you? It’s a lot to digest all at once.
This year had definitely not been one of the finer of her thirty on the planet. Relationships were crumbling all around her. She lost the man she thought was the love of her life and somehow, had just lost her best friend.
When she’d moved to Austin, she didn’t know anyone. She’d come for college, stayed for law school, and then never left—an all-too-common occurrence. She knew now there was something about the town that acts like a high-powered magnet once you’re in its force field—it pulls on you with such strength that you can’t break free. Perhaps it’s the rolling hills and oak trees, perhaps the live music, the hipster, happening vibe with the high-tech overtones, or maybe it’s a combination of all those factors and more. Austin is unlike any other city in Texas, and she knew within the first week of being there she’d found her home.
In college, she hung out at the ever-changing bars on 6th Street, taking in the music, trying to be in the music scene, anxious to stumble upon the next big band so she could say “I saw them when . . .” She also had a major thing for musicians. Though she didn’t play an instrument herself, a man with a guitar and a good singing voice was her kryptonite. This also explained why she’d never had a romantic relationship that lasted longer than a year. She fell for the bad boys—the drummers, the guitarists, the rebels without a cause and an artistic license that usually meant they cheated on her with the groupie of the week. Tony’d stayed with her the longest, but she thought he was different. His band wasn’t great, so she never worried about them hitting it big and him leaving her. Until he left her.
Sitting at her dining room table, she held a tired head full of ginger red hair in her hands and wondered what to do next. She was in uncharted territory. She was blindsided the night before, and she was sad. Cassie had helped her get over Tony, and a decent roster of men before him, and now, unexpectedly, she had to get over Cassie. The world works in mysterious ways.
Jessica decided the only thing to do was go for a run to clear the confusion and cobwebs that had taken up residence in her mind. A few miles on the trail at Barton Creek and she’d feel better, certainly.
She pulled into the parking lot and the blue sky and puffy white clouds overlooking the trail made her smile. The weather gods were looking down on her, and the temperature was warmer than it had been in days.
Jess clicked the button on her key fob, the locks on her car immediately obeying, and started to walk away, head down—as usual—her mind a muddled mess of thoughts and runaway emotions. She and Cassie had met at a young lawyer’s networking event, both anxious to see and be seen, and then escape the event as soon as possible. Both there under the suggestion of the higher-ups at their workplaces. Both uncomfortable with the self-promotion required to “network” in their industry. They’d hit it off quickly, and helped each other make it through an evening that was originally destined to be uncomfortable, at best. She could still remember parts of their first conversation, and it came to her as she started to jog off down the running path.
“Where do you work?” Cassie had asked to break the ice as they peered over a table full of cut fruit and meat trays.
“Anderson, Smith and Smith,” Jessica replied smiling, happy to have someone to talk to. Her worst fear was a crowded room full of people she didn’t know. “You?”
“I just took a job with the State hunting down deadbeat dads for child support.”
“Wow, you are clearly a better person than I am. I spend my days sorting through files and lookin
g for precedent in old cases to help the partners get clients off the hook for doing bad things they shouldn’t have done in the first place. Good use of an advanced degree, huh?”
They’d laughed and compared notes about working in a firm versus the State, how much they were in debt for their education—a lot—and if practicing law was all they thought it would be when they’d had the crazy idea to do it in the first place.
Cassie had invited Jessica for coffee the next day, and they’d been friends ever since. Now, over bad coffee in a cheap diner, their friendship had unraveled in what seemed like an instant. As she jogged, Jessica replayed the evening over in her head—again—she just couldn’t stop doing it. She had no idea Cassie was gay. No clue. It didn’t matter to her, and she still wanted to be friends, but she couldn’t figure out how to convince Cassie to stay friends with her under the circumstances. Why did she feel like the bad guy in this scenario? Why did she feel like she did after she’d broken up with a lover? Probably, she realized, because she’d just lost the one person she knew she could always count on.
An hour later, she was drenched in sweat and her mind was more relaxed, but she didn’t have the answers. Not even close.
+ + +
Cassie woke up Saturday morning with a raging headache. When she’d gotten home from the diner, she opened a bottle of wine and proceeded to drink the entire thing before passing out on her couch. She wasn’t normally a heavy drinker to the extremes, but she was gutted—she’d taken a chance and told Jessica about her feelings. She’d known it was a risk. It was always a risk when you were attracted to your best friend. But, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d been in love with Jessica for years and she couldn’t keep it up. She couldn’t keep playing the best friend when she wanted to be the girlfriend.
