Side Order of Love

by Unknown

  “Tim was eager enough when he learned how many people were going to be here, including the press. We just snuck out of a Boston Pops concert.”

  Grace was giddy and absurdly pleased that her lover had come. “I’m so glad.”

  Aly leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “And I’m so proud, babe. I want to see you. Can we meet?”

  “Where?”

  “At my apartment. Tomorrow night.”

  Grace smiled her consent, but Aly had already moved on and was shaking hands with Trish, leaving Grace with the intoxicating effects of the quiet buzz of sexual arousal and the warm alcohol.

  CHAPTER TWO

  They’d barely made it through their first glass of champagne when Aly took Grace’s hand, and with a glint in her eyes, led her to the bedroom of the twenty-sixth floor condo along Boston Harbor. The apartment had been a fortieth birthday present for Aly from her parents last year, a place for the hard-working criminal attorney and wife of a busy politician to get away when she needed to. Grace guessed it would be an unbearable shock if the prim and proper Fitzsimmonses ever realized it was a secret meeting place for their daughter and her lesbian lover.

  Skillfully, Aly unbuttoned Grace’s tight, silk blouse, licking her lips in anticipation, her eyes roaming over Grace’s breasts, which were achingly swollen with arousal. Her nipples had hardened long ago at the promise of what lay ahead, and now they stiffened further at the prospect of Aly’s hands and mouth just inches away.

  “God, I missed you,” Grace said anxiously as Aly’s lips found the sensitive flesh of her throat. Once together, Grace and Aly could not get enough of each other. Even after nearly three years of secret, intermittent trysts, Grace still hungered for Aly’s skilled touch, her presence, her body.

  Aly’s soft hands caressed where Grace’s blouse had been just seconds before. Her touch was cool and butterfly soft, just like the silk, and Grace gave a small shiver of pleasure.

  “You’re so beautiful, Grace,” Aly murmured between kisses, brushing Grace’s hair aside to make way for her lips. Grace barely heard her. A moan began deep in her throat and her eyes slammed firmly shut. Her impatience for release was building, and she wanted Aly to take her, quickly. They were often in a hurry to make love—mostly because they had so little time together—and tonight would be no different.

  “Oh, God, Aly. Please.” It had been weeks, and Grace needed their connection solidified by their habitual hot, hard sex.

  Aly growled pleasurably, more than eager to meet Grace’s demands. She knew Grace’s body intimately, knew just how and where to touch, and she played her body like a master violinist, striking each chord with just the right tempo and pressure.

  “Oh, God,” Grace choked out as her impending orgasm built like an enormous wave, gathering and pulling, growing more powerful as it approached. Grace bit back the overwhelming desire to tell Aly she loved her, because Aly didn’t like ardent proclamations during sex. The physical attraction between them over the years had remained intense. The sex was fast and furious, almost painful at times, and the need for release always acute. Grace pragmatically recognized it as mostly fucking, not lovemaking. It was the way Aly wanted it, and Grace had come to appreciate it too. The orgasms came fast and hard, but when they were over so abruptly, there was always a vague longing that bordered on dissatisfaction—sometimes for hours afterward. There were times when Grace wanted so much more from Aly, and what she got was never enough.

  She closed her eyes again, willed away the distracting thoughts and welcomed the growing rumbles of orgasm. Coming was all she needed right now, all she could think about. The trembles escalated, surging slowly through her body until she shook violently and cried out. She clutched Aly’s shoulders hard, digging in with her nails, stiffening against her as she came.

  Aly smiled against Grace’s throat, then kissed her shoulder. “Was that good, baby?”

  Grace, still breathing hard, smiled at the question. “As always.”

  “I’ve missed this body of yours. Every morning these last few weeks, I’d wake up thinking about fucking you, Grace.”

  Grace chuckled, but she didn’t share the lightness of the moment. It gave her an undeniable thrill that Aly still desired her as much as ever, but just once, Grace wanted Aly to miss her for something other than sex, the way she sometimes missed Aly.

  “Grace,” Aly murmured huskily against her. “Fuck me.”

  Propped up on an elbow, Grace watched her sleeping lover. Aly was so beautiful, with that long, thick hair, those flashing green eyes and skin so smooth and taut. She was tall and trim, her legs long and shapely and her breasts still round and firm. She was elegant in the way she carried herself, yet there was the strong suggestion of adventurousness and athleticism. She turned the heads of both men and women wherever she went, and Grace tried to imagine what a distracting presence Aly must be in front of a jury.

  Grace smiled and softly caressed Aly’s naked shoulder. It had been her good fortune that Aly had chosen her and she’d tried hard not to disappoint. She’d become good at pleasing Aly, though they’d had their rough moments. She’d pressured Aly once to take a vacation, just the two of them, and Aly had finally relented. For a week, they’d gone to San Francisco, where they had anonymously walked the streets holding hands, gone to shows and dinners together, nurtured their bond. They’d slipped away to Provincetown for a weekend once as well, and it had been magical. But the worst times were when Grace had brought up the possibility of Aly leaving Tim. They’d fought and nearly quit their affair three or four times, with Aly imploring Grace to just be patient and to let things ride for a while longer. There were vague promises, and Grace let herself be pacified. In the end, nothing ever really changed. The secret liaisons and phone calls continued while they each went on with their busy lives, and the months rolled into years, each tryst blurring into the next. Somewhere along the line, Grace had stopped wondering what a life with Aly would be like. She’d stopped asking for more.

  Grace’s fingers trailed down Aly’s left arm and lingered on the buttery skin. Aly did not stir. Grace’s eyes traveled the length of her arm and came to rest on her white gold wedding band. She blinked at the offending sight and swallowed back the familiar, bitter taste in her mouth whenever she thought of Tim O’Donnell and the poor excuse he and Aly had for a marriage. It was she who made Aly happy. It was she who turned Aly on and made her beg. It was she Aly said she wanted to be with. But it was The Asshole, as she liked to think of him, who ultimately shared a life with her and the legitimacies and respect the title of marriage so automatically and unfairly bestowed. The fact that he seemed to treat Aly as some sort of handy adornment only pissed her off more. She couldn’t understand why Aly stayed with him. Or at least, she didn’t want to understand why.

  Feeling suddenly sick to her stomach, Grace fled from the bedroom. She made herself a cup of herbal tea and curled up on the chocolate brown leather couch, watching the city wake up. Lights faintly twinkled along the harbor, and in the dusky dawn skyline, she could just make out the tall glass building that was the JFK Library with its huge American flag hanging in the atrium. Her soul, too, felt like it was stirring with the first breath of morning.

  She sipped her tea and was surrounded by the emptiness that often followed sex with Aly. She knew she wanted more of her, but it had been so easy to just take what was offered and be satisfied with that. And she was satisfied, but she was not happy. In fact, she wasn’t even sure what happy meant for her, but she knew what it wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t sneaking around with a married woman for three years, squeezing in what little time and energy they could find for each other, trying to carve out some space for themselves between all the lies and deceit. It was the fast food of relationships, and Grace knew it. She had always known it, and much of the time, it had been enough. But tonight it was not. Maybe it was because she had been anticipating this night together for weeks now, and already it was over with no clear idea of when th
ey would be together again. Nothing about this night had been any different from the multitude of others they’d shared. It’d followed the same script—hot sex, hurried conversation. But this time, it was like fabric unraveling, a coming apart at the pull of a thread.

  Grace sipped her tea slowly, until it was cold at the end, and watched the crisp, May sun rise over the city. She knew she needed sleep, and that in just a few hours she’d have to fly to Manhattan with Trish to go over plans for the new restaurant. But she didn’t want to lie back down beside Aly and pretend that all was well. Not this time.

  “Hey,” Aly said softly from the bedroom doorway, hastily tying her robe. “How long have you been up?”

  Grace shrugged. “Awhile.”

  “Why don’t you come back to bed?” Aly’s smile was suggestive. “We can start the morning off with a bang.”

  Grace shook her head firmly. “No, Aly.”

  Aly stepped closer, her face registering that something was wrong. “What’s up, darling?”

  Grace went to her and threw her arms around Aly’s neck, needing a physical connection. She clutched Aly tightly, and Aly clutched her back, pulling Grace in until their bodies merged completely. They maintained the embrace for a long time, until Grace finally whispered into Aly’s neck, “I can’t do this anymore, Aly.” It surprised her to hear the words she’d not really even formulated in her mind yet.

  Aly pulled back enough to look at her, concern darkening her face. “What are you talking about, Grace?”

  Tears threatened, but Grace didn’t want to be a blubbering fool. Didn’t want to play the role of the needy, demanding, emotional girlfriend, but she couldn’t stop herself, because right now she was all of those things. “I just want to be with you, Aly,” she said thickly.

  “But I’m right here, baby.”

  “No,” Grace said more forcefully. “I want to be with you, Aly. I hate this.” A tear slithered down her cheek, then another. She did nothing to stop them from pooling under her chin.

  “Is this because of the party? Because I showed up late and brought Tim?” Aly asked.

  Grace had been relieved when Aly appeared at the celebration. More than that, she was happy Aly was there to share at least part of the evening. It had almost made their relationship seem like it mattered, like she mattered to Aly. But any good feelings had been completely obliterated by the fact that Aly had brought her husband and they’d left after such a pathetically short time. The brief merging of Aly’s two lives—her secret one with her legitimate one—had left Grace feeling angry and desolate. Disgusted too, because she suddenly saw how little space she took up in Aly’s life.

  Grace shook her head again. The party was only a symptom of their problems, a typical example of the inadequacy of their relationship. “No. It’s…I just get so tired of this, Aly. It just isn’t enough anymore.”

  Grace thought she saw a flash of frustration, even anger, in Aly’s face, but the expression quickly smoothed into mild mollification.

  “Look,” Aly soothed. “You know we can’t be together right now. It’s just not possible. I hate not being with you too, but…” Aly’s voice trailed off. Her eyes grew firmer. “Tim’s going to run for a congressional seat next year, and you know I’m expecting to get called to the bench.”

  It was always something, some excuse why they couldn’t be together. It reminded Grace of one of those dreams where your feet are moving but you’re not getting anywhere. That’s exactly what they’d become, it occurred to her. Motion without movement. She sighed heavily and pulled a little further away until their arms were only loosely around one another. She loved being in Aly’s arms, but she knew the longer she stayed there, the quicker she’d give up this fight. And she didn’t want to give in.

  She couldn’t this time.

  “I want to be with someone whose hand I can hold in public, Aly. Or go out to dinner with. Someone to spend time with, without watching the clock or looking over our shoulders. Someone who can be there for me, someone to come home to.” It sounded so pathetically clichéd, but it was true.

  Grace had begun to detest the way Aly made her feel. She wanted Aly, thought she needed her, hotly anticipated the next time they’d be together. But then it was all over so quickly, this building up and crashing down, before the pattern would start all over again. At times, Grace convinced herself that she preferred it this way because it allowed her to concentrate on her work and her demanding schedule. An affair with Aly meant she didn’t have the burdens and demands of a real relationship, which left her free to pursue other things, to live life for herself. But she’d been doing that for years and she was just plain tired of the self-indulgence of it. What she and Aly had was hollow and empty, and so was she. Her aloneness had quietly become loneliness.

  Aly gently wiped a tear from Grace’s cheek. “I know it’s frustrating, honey. I want to be able to do those things with you too. But it’s a big time in Tim’s career right now, and—”

  “Screw Tim. What about you? Are you really willing to risk your career for us? Would you risk it all for me?” It hurt to think about it, but in her heart she knew that Aly would not risk her future for them.

  Aly’s silence only confirmed Grace’s suspicions. “Grace, don’t do this,” Aly quietly implored.

  “I can’t not do this, Aly. I mean, what’s wrong with wanting us to be together?” It seemed like such a simple concept, but with Aly, it seemed to be the hardest thing in the world.

  Aly pulled sharply away, her hands sternly on her hips. The loss of physical contact was almost wrenching to Grace. “Grace, why are you being difficult?”

  Grace swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. She would not be bullied. “I am not being difficult. I just want what everyone else wants for once. I want to share my life with someone…” She couldn’t stop her voice from shaking. “Who’s in love with me.”

  Aly shook her head slowly and closed her eyes briefly, as though wishing the moment away. “Look, Grace. I know you’re under a lot of stress right now. You’ve got the new restaurant opening, the TV show approved again for next fall, the new cookbook. I understand. I really do.”

  “No, Aly, you don’t understand.” Grace wasn’t entirely sure she understood, but she knew the ground was no longer sure beneath her. She knew that the loneliness she once feared was no longer abstract, that the void in her life was growing larger by the day. She’d just stripped away the beautifully decorated wedding cake, only to find it was really just cardboard underneath.

  “I do understand, Grace. Why don’t you just take some time? You know, step back a little. Try to relax for a few days.” Aly stepped closer and rubbed Grace’s arm affectionately.“Take some time out from us, if that’s what you need. I’ll be here waiting.”

  Grace stared at her for a long moment. She was not surprised by Aly’s reaction. She’d been foolish to think Aly would agree to change anything.

  Without a word, Grace stalked to the bedroom and reached for her overnight bag. It didn’t take her long to pack.

  Grace stared gloomily into her wineglass. She knew she was being lousy company for Trish—had been all afternoon with the architect and later over dinner. She’d barely touched her duck confit, and now at the bar, she was taking only bird-like sips of her Chardonnay. A despondency had set firmly in since leaving Aly this morning.

  “Grace,” Trish broke in hesitantly. “I know we don’t have a lot of heart-to-hearts, but—”

  “Let me guess. You’re having the sudden urge for one,” Grace said flatly.

  Trish sipped her wine and watched Grace with sympathetic eyes. “Gracie, what’s wrong?”

  “What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

  “Because you look like shit and you’ve been tired and distracted all day. And I know it’s because you’ve been with Aly.”

  Grace looked benignly at Trish, unwilling to play along with the little therapy session. Self-pity, not evaluation, was what she wanted.

&nb
sp; “Don’t deny it, Grace. You always act weird for a couple of days after you’ve been with her.”

  “Weird?”

  Trish lowered her voice. “You know I’ve never said much about the two of you, but—”

  “Could that be because it’s none of your business?”

  “No, Grace. It is my business, because you’re my friend and I love you, and I don’t think she’s good for you.” In their younger days, Trish had always been the wilder of the two, yet Grace knew she’d never approved of her relationship with Aly. Trish had her standards, and clearly, Aly didn’t fit them.

  Now Grace stiffened against Trish’s blunt criticism.

  Trish looked sheepish for about three seconds. “Well, I’m sorry, but she’s not. You deserve better, Grace, than some married woman who treats you like her little closet kitten.”

  Grace flushed. As right as Trish was, there was a stubborn need to defend her lover and their relationship. It was her life, dammit. She didn’t need Trish’s approval, nor did she need Trish reminding her that her love life was crap, that she’d made a poor decision three years ago and was paying for it.

  “What makes you think she’s not good for me? You don’t know anything about her, Trish. Or about how we are together.”

  “All right,” Trish said. “Explain it to me, then. Tell me about her attributes. Tell me what it’s like between the two of you.”

  The hours and the distance from Aly had not strengthened Grace’s resolve, and now she fought the petulance rising in her. She knew Trish was just trying to help. Her intentions were good, but her comments still came across as harsh and judgmental. If she weren’t such a good friend, Grace would tell her to go to hell.

  “She’s a good woman, Trish.” Grace sipped her wine, feeling worse by the minute. “She’s beautiful, smart, ambitious, totally competent in everything she does.” Aly almost sounded like the perfect woman. And she might be, if only she’d commit to Grace—make a life with her. Yeah, like that was ever going to happen.