Rewriting the Ending

by H P Tune

  But now that she stood in front of the dresses, a tumble of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She tried to calm herself with a series of reminders that she and Mia had shared countless meals and that there was no pressure or expectation.

  Yet she had four dresses in front of her, and they weren’t just outfits. They were subtle messages, carefully wrapped up in powder blue and cherry red. And she had to choose one.

  She had no idea how to do it, really. Despite her assurance, it had been many years since she had worn a dress, and perhaps never one of the quality and cost of the options in front of her. It made her nervous, the dresses and the date.

  Trying on each one, she examined herself in the full-length mirror.

  The crimson strapless cocktail dress screamed, tear me off. It signalled nothing but wild sex against hotel room doors. Wearing it would evoke images of the red material gathered around her hips and lace panties discarded across the room somewhere, the zip at her back only half down. As tempting as it was, that message wasn’t quite what she was going for. Besides, the bodice gaped at her chest, and the fitted waist was a little loose, meaning the thigh-high split lost its impact. Mia however—Mia would kill that dress, and Juliet took a moment to fantasise about the way the material would hug her fabulous curves.

  At the other end of the spectrum was a simple black wrap dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and a conservative neckline. Juliet considered her reflection only momentarily, unsure what she was going for but knowing that this wasn’t it either. Perhaps combined with knee-high red boots and a large pendant that drew eyes towards her breasts, it could pass as an emergency date night outfit, but she had neither to accessorise with. She carefully returned it to the hanger, practising taking some long deep breaths without flinching in pain.

  That left two options: one was another simple black cocktail dress that was made out of a flimsy material. Thin spaghetti straps held the loose bodice in place. She tried it on, checking herself out in the mirror. It wouldn’t look out of place in a semi-formal restaurant or an early evening celebration, something like an engagement party or birthday. Juliet deliberated, struggling to twist and see over her shoulder to examine the back.

  Switching to the final option, Juliet pulled the soft blue dress over her head and shoulders. The straps were fine and had a thin and transparent cap sleeve that bounced over the curves of her slender shoulders. The neckline was similar to the black, loose and light, and it fell in place over the swell of her breasts. The blue followed the line of her waist and hips a little better—not snug but falling effortlessly to her knees. The skirt drifted slightly as she walked, and it gave off an almost bohemian natural look. In Juliet’s mind, it whispered rather than yelled, Hey, I’m beautiful and sexy, but I can hold a conversation too. It said, Kiss me, but don’t put your hand beneath my clothes.

  Decision made. Checking the time, she grimaced. Ten minutes was not enough time to apply some basic makeup and do something with her hair. Perhaps she would be fashionably late. She tried on the two pairs of heels that Mia had left on her floor, discarding them both when an inch gap at the back made her slip with every step. She didn’t think her body could cope with a spectacular fall into a piece of furniture.

  When a knock at the door interrupted the quick makeup application, Juliet cursed, and her stomach flooded again with nerves. She opened the bathroom door and stuck her head out. “Come in. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

  As she heard Mia step inside, Juliet hoped that she had tossed the black bra from the bed back into her underwear drawer.

  When she walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Juliet giggled. “I’ve discovered something new tonight: my feet are a little smaller than yours.”

  Mia grinned, pulling one foot up to slip off the impressive heels she wore, tossing them to the end of the bed. She rested on bare feet and waited for Juliet to take a few steps closer. “So you look incredible, Juliet,” she said. “Beautiful.” One hand touched the inside of Juliet’s elbow as she kissed her cheek.

  “Thank you,” she said, embarrassed. “You,” she added hastily, “are gorgeous. How did you get so incredibly hot?”

  They both laughed, and the awkwardness dissipated. “Just noticed, huh?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “You ready? I’m…walking.” Mia chuckled. “I was about to say driving, but that’s not right. It’s not a long way to the dining room.”

  “I’m ready.” Juliet ran her hand down Mia’s back, and the smooth material of the fitted black dress was thick under her touch. The pad of her fingertips traced down the inside of Mia’s forearm, and she slipped their hands together.

  They were off to an exceptional start.

  CHAPTER 11

  Despite looking slightly out of place sitting at the large wooden eight-seater table, Mia and Juliet talked easily as they sat next to each other at the table’s far end. The lights in the dining room were dimmed, and a large white candle splintered a glow across their features. Their gazes stayed locked on each other as they sipped on what were not their first glasses of wine that night.

  Mia had planned the menu with Janet that afternoon, ensuring that the food was all mostly prepared so that she could just go quickly into the kitchen and return with their meals. Janet had then made herself scarce, disappearing into the old workman’s quarters from when previous owners had run a working property. Juliet noticed that she usually slept a few nights a week there, while other times, depending on the hours and days she was working, she drove back and forth from her flat in Inverness.

  Mia took care of the wine, matching each dish with a specific blend from the cellar. The canapé starters were complimented by two generous glasses of a 1996 Dom Pérignon, and Mia and Juliet sat on a white double-seat recliner in an adjacent reading room as they drank and listened to music.

  Mia directed them to the table for the first dish, a tasting plate of sashimi accompanied by a Chilean Semillon. Next came small slices of seasoned chicken breast with homemade cabbage salad; a glass of Sauvignon Blanc went down with those nicely. By the time the third main course was in front of them, the conversation had turned louder and more vibrant than ever, hand gestures eagerly supplementing the conversation.

  “I’m not sure I can do it,” Juliet said, examining the table with a groan, “but it looks amazing.”

  “You have to try it. It’s a local lamb. Absolutely delicious, I swear. And the yogurt dressing is one of Janet’s specialties.”

  “It’s all been good, and I’m complaining about being full, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got room.”

  Mia nodded, cutting a small piece of lamb cutlet and coating it in the homemade mint and chives sauce. She slowly placed it in her mouth and emitted a moan of pure pleasure. “Mmm, so good.”

  Laughing, Juliet copied her, savouring the taste before sipping at the Merlot Mia had poured into two wide red wine glasses.

  “We’ll take a break before dessert,” Mia said, leaning back, with her hands falling onto the linen napkin on her lap. “Work off a bit of this with some dancing,” she added, winking at Juliet.

  “Dance?” Juliet asked loudly, one open palm to her chest and the other reaching out to squeeze Mia’s shoulder. She dipped her head and swallowed, buzzing with the copious amounts of wine consumed over the couple of hours. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but these ribs—not so good for dancing.”

  “What kind of dancing do you do?” Mia teased.

  “Awesome dancing.” Juliet rested her hand on Mia’s shoulder a moment before drawing it back. “I’ve spent a lot of nights dancing in bars…on bars, ordering drinks in a heap of different languages.” Her voice dropped a little, and she drew in a breath. “But maybe not so much, now that I got the crap beaten out of me. Time to lay low.”

  “Have I ever mentioned how shit that was? I hate, hate, hate that guy for touching you.”

  “Whoever he was.”

  “I was so worried about you,” Mia s
aid softly, the words coming out mumbled. “But I didn’t want to tell you ’cause I thought it would freak you out.”

  “It probably would have. I would have done a million head miles and then felt all insecure and smothered.” Juliet squeezed her fingers around Mia’s.

  “Am I allowed to worry about you now?”

  Juliet laughed, taking another long sip from her wine. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Juliet, why would I?” Mia’s tone was light, but still, Juliet didn’t want to engage in the serious conversation that threatened.

  “I’m fine, Mia, really. I’m not traumatised or some emotional wreck. You don’t need to worry.”

  They quickly took the few remaining bites of the single lamb cutlet and settled their cutlery on the plate, washing the meat down with the remnants of their wine.

  Mia stood and tucked her chair in, holding a hand out for Juliet to accept. “May I have this dance?”

  Juliet nodded but didn’t move.

  Mia moved to the iPod docking station and switched playlists, playing a softer and slower collection of songs. “Better?” she asked, standing in the middle of the reading room and swaying her hips gently.

  “Definitely,” Juliet said, her gaze drifting down from Mia’s face and sweeping across her exposed clavicles. “I could just stand here and watch you, you know.”

  Mia shrugged, holding her arms open and palms up in the air. “If you like, but I’ll be gentle should you want to join me.”

  Juliet gingerly stepped forward until she could slowly slide her fingers in between Mia’s. They stood momentarily connected by one hand, the space wide between them. Mia widened her eyes until they took on an earnest, childlike expression, as if inviting Juliet in. She folded their arms between them, their joined hands coming to rest in front of her shoulder. Slowly, Mia slid her other arm around the small of Juliet’s back, fingers splayed over her hip. Ducking down, Mia inhaled, pressing a light kiss to the nape of Juliet’s neck.

  Juliet allowed Mia to lead them, just ever so slightly swaying, not quite in time with the music in the background. Not that either of them minded.

  “Okay?” Mia asked.

  Turning her face so that her forehead pressed into Mia’s cheekbone, Juliet nodded, Mia’s breath tickling her neck. “You know, I tried to convince myself that I just wanted to be friends with you.”

  “Is it such a bad thing if we’re more?” Mia asked. “I already feel like we’re more.”

  “It just wasn’t my plan,” Juliet whispered. Plans were important to her. They kept her in control; they kept her safe. But nothing about this working sabbatical had gone to plan.

  Mia sighed and continued to slowly move them, feet firmly fixed as their upper bodies rocked together. “I won’t hurt you,” she said.

  Juliet burrowed her face into the nape of Mia’s neck. Mia released her hand as Juliet ran both hands around Mia’s waist and joined her fingers behind Mia’s back. “I’m not perfect,” Juliet said. “I’ve got a past, insecurities.”

  Mia smiled. “You don’t scare me. Intrigue me, yes. But scare me, no.”

  “I’ve had a lot of wine.”

  “Yes, we have. I like it. I feel relaxed.”

  Mia continued to sway their bodies, threading her fingers soothingly through Juliet’s hair, rubbing her thumbs over the back of her neck for a number of minutes.

  Placing her hands on Mia’s hips and arching her back, Juliet leant her upper body away from Mia, and her face contorted in pain. She stepped backwards, straightening and relieving her tense abdominal muscles.

  Mia gave her a sympathetic look. “Careful.”

  “Mia,” Juliet said, scanning her eyes over Mia’s face, “it’s true that this wasn’t my plan, but I do like you.”

  Mia immediately smiled, slipping a hand behind Juliet’s neck. “Then do you trust me?”

  Hesitating, Juliet half nodded. “I trust you more than anyone else.”

  “I’m going to earn an unambiguous yes to that question.” Mia leant forward and gave her a searing kiss. It was tender and passionate, a little messy and tasting of red wine.

  Breathless, Juliet stepped back into Mia’s hold, placing her chin on her shoulder. “Do you trust me?” Juliet asked softly.

  “I do.”

  “You do?”

  “I have no reason not to. And Juliet, I have a past too. That doesn’t matter to me, if mine doesn’t matter to you.”

  “Then I want to try. But Mia—”

  “Hey,” Mia said quickly, “I’m in no rush. As long as you’re not disappearing back to Belgium, we’ll just go slow, okay? You’ll have to be patient with me too.” Juliet suspected that the last comment was for her benefit rather than Mia’s. Mia seemed to have figured out that Juliet was much more comfortable when she perceived that she was being altruistic. And it was true. Juliet had always been that way.

  “Thanks.”

  “I think it’s almost time for dessert. What about you?”

  “Ah, I think I have a little room.” Juliet turned her body and awkwardly pushed off Mia just a little. “But before we do that, I just need to do one thing. ’Cause that kiss, that kiss was really nice.”

  Running her thumb along Mia’s bottom lip, Juliet tugged her closer and promptly captured it between her lips. She sucked on it gently, running her tongue across the matted taste of lipstick.

  They broke apart, and Mia grinned widely. “Now that I could do all night. But how about you sit down and I’ll be right back?”

  Returning, Mia placed a vintage dessert wine on the table but indicated for Juliet to move to the recliner. “I could get more comfy. You?”

  “Sure, but do you need a hand in the kitchen?”

  “I left some biscotti on the bench. Can you grab that?”

  Juliet returned from the kitchen in seconds. “I didn’t think I was hungry, but I definitely have room for that stuff. Tell me Janet didn’t just whip up brownies this afternoon?”

  “Mmm, no, actually. These she brought back from Ireland, but they are divine. They have macadamias in them and are all gooey. Fucking brilliant.” She placed the items on the small coffee table and returned to collect the wine bottle and small sherry glasses. “I know we’ve had a bit to drink, but this is a tawny port—beautiful.”

  Juliet nodded and slowly lowered herself, controlled until she hit the cushion and slumped backwards. Mia rearranged a few items before scooping up Juliet’s feet and placing them on the table. “Comfy?” She handed her a plate.

  “Very.” Juliet patted the space next to her. “Sit.”

  Taking two huge bites of brownie, Mia put the plate down and leant back onto the recliner, taking a sip of wine. She furrowed her forehead and licked her lips, taking another small taste. “Mmm, it needs to breathe a little. I should have opened the bottle a little while ago.”

  “How did you end up such a wine connoisseur?”

  Mia gave her a half smile. “I’m not sure I could count the number of vineyards I’ve been to. And my ex-husband’s family owned a couple of wine production companies around the world, one in France and one in California, and had vineyards all around the world.”

  “Whoa, no wonder you know your wine, then.”

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be arrogant. But I do kind of appreciate a quality bottle.”

  “No, I like it. Maybe I’ll learn a few things.” Juliet held out her plate, laughing when Mia took it without question and replaced it with her glass. “That was easy.”

  “You’re still injured. I’m looking after you.”

  Juliet smiled and nodded, realizing that she hadn’t accepted this kind of care and attention in a long time. She swirled the sweet, dull, red liquid around in her mouth. It was smooth and wood infused and tasted almost nutty. “Very nice,” she said, and her body started to feel tired and heavy. She took another mouthful and, as she had with the mostly consumed brownie, held out her glass for Mia to take from her.

&nbs
p; “You won’t get away with me serving you forever,” Mia said, relaxing back next to Juliet. They sat in silence for a few minutes until slowly, Mia crept her fingers towards Juliet’s, which were resting on top of her thigh. She intertwined them. “You look tired.” She pressed a kiss onto Juliet’s shoulder.

  “Mmm, I am. Too much writing, food, and drinking, I think.”

  “You want to go to bed? I’ll clean up out here.”

  Juliet shook her head. “Nope, I’ll help. But I kinda want to sit here awhile.”

  “Maybe we can finish cleaning tomorrow. I put most of the stuff in the dishwasher as we went along.”

  “Smart move.”

  Tenderly playing with Juliet’s thumb, Mia eventually chuckled and trapped it. She dropped her head to the side, temple resting on Juliet’s shoulder. “You okay, Juliet?”

  Juliet nodded. “I’m good.”

  “Good. I’m good too.”

  “Will you be good in the morning?”

  Mia laughed. “Not a chance. I’m going to have a massive headache.”

  “Me too. You know what would make it better though?” Juliet asked.

  “Mmm? Water? Coffee?”

  “Probably, but I was more thinking that waking up with you next to me in bed would be kind of helpful too.”

  Juliet hesitated even as she said the words. Not from regret but from wondering how Mia would interpret her request. “Oh, in your PJ’s, I mean. Totally dressed. Just sleeping.”

  It took a moment for Mia to respond, and Juliet considered for a second that Mia was going to oppose the idea. Not for the first time, Juliet even found her own ability to panic relentlessly exhausting. “Well…only if you are sure.”

  “I am.”

  “Then, of course I would be incredibly happy to fall asleep next to you.”

  Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, because I am so exhausted.” Her body deflated with her loud declaration.

  Mia shifted her weight, sitting up and releasing Juliet’s hand. “Go on, then. I expect to see those dancing ducks in less than ten minutes. My cupcakes will be waiting.”

  “Cupcakes?”