Don't Say Goodbye

by Bridget Essex

  Fiona picked up some thin scissors from the table, and again pressed her legs to Max’s right side. She ran her long fingers through Max’s hair, and began to move it this way and that, the sharp clipping sound of the scissors punctuating her words. “You know, we’re almost caught up on all the orders, Max. You won’t have to come help me this next week.” She sounded so sorry when she said it.

  Max’s breath caught as a large chunk of hair fell to the floor. Not go to Fiona’s sweet-smelling kitchen every day after work? But that’s where she laughed, that’s where the best moments of her day happened.

  Not going, after only this past week, seemed unthinkable. It had grown into a beloved part of Max’s day.

  “Are you sure?” Max asked, trying to keep her voice steady. “It was no trouble at all. I love helping you.”

  “Well,” said Fiona, running her fingers through Max’s hair and taking up a big lock of it to cut into. “I think you’re going to be getting even more orders for your cards. You know your new client? Well, she has a very good friend who’s getting married, too, and she wants to use everything my bride is using, all of the same wedding vendors because she’s loved so much what she’s seen. And I think she’s going to want invitations from you, too. You should really come up with a few sample designs, then I could take pictures of them. I have a good camera--I have to take pictures for my cupcake web site. And then we could build you an e-commerce site, and you could start selling your invitations on there.”

  Max’s eyes widened. “Wow. You have a better business plan than anything I could ever come up with. I was just considering vending at a few craft fairs with some ready-made cards.”

  “And I think you should do that, too,” said Fiona, tucking a wisp of hair gently behind Max’s ear as she stepped out to Max’s right side to gaze at her work. “That’s good,” she said quietly and stepped back, her touch running along the side of Max’s neck. Again, Max shivered. “But I think you should also have a web site online and try to concentrate on that. Like an online portfolio. I think people would be very impressed to see your designs, and you’d get a lot of business that way.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about web sites,” said Max quietly as Fiona’s touch lingered on the side of her neck. Fiona traced her fingers around to the left side of Max’s face, and then Fiona cupped her chin, tilting Max’s face to look up at her. Fiona gazed down at Max with darkened eyes, and slightly parted lips. Max did love this new lipstick on Fiona. It made her lips look so soft, so inviting. Like they needed to be kissed. Max looked down, could no longer maintain her gaze with Fiona, the ache beginning to throb in her heart.

  “I know a lot about web sites,” said Fiona softly, firmly. Her eyes flashed brightly. “Remember our bargain? You helped me out so much, and you said that if you helped me, you’d let me help you. I’ll build you a web site, I’ll take the pictures. You just make some beautiful cards, and you leave the rest up to me.”

  “No,” said Max, just as firmly, as the scissors began to clip again. Her heart was beating too quickly as Fiona worked on her, as the scent of Fiona filled her, as the warmth of Fiona, pressed up against her side made the blood rush through her, made Max’s heart beat faster, made everything more sensitive, sharper, clearer. Max swallowed again. “You have too much of your own work to do,” she said, by way of explanation. “You have your own business to run. You can’t help me with mine and still be successful. No one has enough time for that.”

  “Yes I can, and I will,” said Fiona, stepping out in front of Max again, and tilting up Max’s chin with one insistent and soft finger. Max had no choice, she had to look up into Fiona’s eyes. “You made a promise, after all,” said Fiona in a whisper, but she wasn’t looking into Max’s eyes when she said it. She was looking down at Max’s lips.

  There was no mistaking it. Fiona reached up, one finger still gently but firmly beneath Max’s chin, and with her thumb, she gently caressed Max’s lower lip, her incredibly soft, warm skin running feather-light over Max’s mouth.

  Max’s intake of breath was quick, the pounding in her heart making everything else but that one touch seem like it was somewhere else, someplace else. All Max knew, in that moment, was the feel of Fiona’s warm fingers against her, all she knew was Fiona’s soft thumb against her mouth, running gently across her lips as Max’s mouth opened.

  “I’m done,” said Fiona softly, then, her breath catching. She still stared down at Max’s mouth, but then she blinked, gazing up at Max’s hair. “You look beautiful,” she said, the words quavering as she spoke them. “So beautiful,” she said in a whisper.

  Max’s legs did part then, as if she had no control of them. And Fiona, who had been standing with her legs pressed up against Max’s knees, took a step forward. Tentatively, softly, she took that final step, her legs and hips between Max’s legs now, her stomach pressed against Max’s chest as she wrapped her hands around Max’s neck.

  Max did not think. Because if she thought, she would stop all of this, and the ache had gone on for far too long and had been too painful for her to stop now at its release. Somehow, impossibly, Fiona was there, Fiona was touching her, was wrapping her arms around Max, the crinkle of the plastic apron loud and sharp between them. Slowly Fiona undid the Velcro catch at the back of the apron, and then she was tugging at it, pulling it over Max’s head so that there really was nothing between them now.

  And then, Fiona ran her fingers through Max’s hair, resting her hands gently at the back of Max’s neck, her fingers making spirals of heat against Max’s skin. She stared at Max’s lips, closed her eyes and descended slowly until her mouth was against Max’s.

  And suddenly there was no space between them at all. Like all of the visions and hopes and dreams Max had had, Fiona leaned down, her red hair filled with the sweet scent of her falling down around Max’s face as Fiona bent to her. And Fiona kissed her, gently softly, her lips brushing against Max as if time had stopped.

  Fiona kissed her.

  Chapter 9: Goodbye

  Max didn’t know what to do. There were too many warring emotions in her, too many thoughts that needed to be silenced, too many feelings that pulsed through her, so pure instinct took over. When Fiona’s hot, sweet mouth pressed down against Max’s, Max parted her lips, drinking her in. Fiona’s teeth tugged a little at Max’s lower lip, but it was a gentle, insistent tug, and then Max’s arms were up around Fiona’s waist, where she’d always willed and wished them to be.

  Her hands grasped the swells of Fiona’s curves, her fingers resting on the places of Fiona’s body where they seemed to have always been meant to go. Fiona tasted of cream and coffee, and she was hot and soft against Max, and in that moment, Max felt her heart so full, it was in danger of bursting.

  Max had never been happier in her entire life, she realized, but she tried not to think about that yet, because any sort of thinking would end this, and it couldn’t be ended, not yet. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Fiona’s waist now, drawing her more snugly against Max’s front. Fiona’s thighs pressed against Max’s center, and the kiss began to send little signals all over Max’s body that began to waken beneath Fiona’s mouth and touch.

  When Fiona curled her fingers at the back of Max’s neck, a delighted shiver moved through Max, a shiver that seemed directly connected to the warming place between Max’s legs. She felt like she was being slowly awakened from a long, painful sleep as Fiona tasted her, touching her, her mouth so sweet and insistent as Fiona drank her in.

  Finally, Fiona pulled away, but only a little, gazing down at Max with wide, shining eyes and a lovely wet mouth. The hunger inside of Max, the hunger that had been building for so long made her moan out softly in the dimly lit kitchen. Her hands tightened around Fiona’s waist, and she pulled the woman to her again. It couldn’t stop now. Max needed her. Max needed to taste her.

  Max needed Fiona, had always needed Fiona. Once she’d tasted Fiona, that need had become too hot and swift inside of h
er, moving through her as if all that Max was built of was need. Now it was Max kissing Fiona, Max with her face angled up to Fiona, pressing her hands at the small of Fiona’s back to draw the woman down closer to her, tighter against her. Fiona melted against Max the way that Max had always imagined she would, like their bodies had been made from the same flesh as Fiona drank Max in, the kiss getting hotter, harder, as Max stood, then, her hands moving to Fiona’s sides so that she could press Fiona back against the counter, press Fiona’s mouth with her own, her tongue darting in and tasting the sweetness of the woman she’d wanted with all of her heart.

  A moan elicited from Fiona, coming from deep within, and a thrill ran through Max, a shiver that traced its way up through her legs and into her heart as she ran her hand up over Fiona’s shirt, and over her right breast, palming the beautiful curve and grasping it gently, pressing down…

  And that was when Max stopped. When Max pulled back from the kiss this time, panting as she let her mouth sink down to Fiona’s shoulder, resting her lips there against her, the scent of Fiona seeming to fill her, that warm vanilla and spicy floral that made Max’s blood still pump too fast.

  Max had to stop.

  “Please don’t stop,” whispered Fiona, then, her voice breaking, and Max looked down at her, at Fiona’s eyes that were wide and wet with tears, Fiona who shook her head, drawing her arms around Max’s neck, pulling her down for a kiss. But Max braced herself, stopping an inch away from Fiona’s perfect mouth.

  “I can’t,” Max whispered in anguish, the words coming out in a soft growl. “Fiona…” She trailed off, gazing into the woman’s eyes, the bright green subdued now as Fiona looked up at her, letting her hands fall down to her sides.

  “I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you,” said Fiona then softly, resolutely, impossible words that Max would have wondered if she was dreaming if this all hadn’t seemed like the realest moment of her life. “I knew the very first time I saw you…” Fiona opened and shut her lovely mouth, licking her lips, searching for the words. Max stared down in astonishment as again Fiona’s hands gently rose and her arms wrapped around Max’s neck, making Max shiver from the nearness of her, the warmth of her. “You touched me, in the diner, your story, your longing for something better. You made my heart skip a beat. Isn’t that cliché?” Fiona whispered, her mouth twitching at the corners as a smile tugged at her. “But you did. My breath caught when I looked at you, and my heart skipped that beat, and I knew you’d stolen it. I knew I wanted you. But you were so distant.”

  An anguished sob seemed to rip itself out of Max’s chest as she closed her eyes, willed the tears to disperse and not fall. And all but one did, leaking out of Max’s right eye and tracing itself down Max’s cheek. Fiona reached up and wiped it away with one soft finger. “I…I think I loved you from the first moment I met you,” whispered Max then, the pain and ache in her heart making the words soft and low. “But I couldn’t…Fiona, we can’t even now. I’ve loved you…” She choked down the rest of the words and, as if she was ripping out her own heart from a jagged wound in her chest, she took a single step back.

  The cold air sliced between them. Fiona wrapped her arms around herself, staring up at Max with wide eyes. “You felt the same way about me all this time? Why didn’t you…why didn’t you say something? Or do something?”

  “Oh, Fiona,” whispered Max brokenly. “Every moment I’ve wanted to…” She trailed off, tried to compose herself as she ran her hand through her hair. The shortness of it shocked her, the newness of its length and lightness something she hadn’t felt yet. Max stared into Fiona’s eyes, the pain building in her. “But we can’t,” she said then. The words were as sharp as the scissors that had cut her hair. “Because you’re Jo’s.”

  Fiona’s eyes grew wide, and she shook her head emphatically. “I don’t even know if Jo wants me,” she said, voice plaintive as she stepped forward. “From the first moment we met, we had this amazing mutual attraction. Do you think everyone has this? It’s rare,” she whispered. “It’s precious. And we can’t ignore this any longer.”

  Max couldn’t look at her. The enormity of what she’d done began to build in her, and the ache escalated, simply by speaking Jo’s name. Somehow, impossibly, it was worse knowing that Fiona had felt the same way. Worse because there were so many missed opportunities, so many moments Max could never get back, and now they both knew how the other felt…and they couldn’t do a single thing about it.

  “I think I love you,” said Max, her eyes shining as she spoke the words she’d ached to speak. Fiona’s breath caught as she stared at Max, eyes wide. “But I can’t be with you,” said Max then, resolution making the words brittle as they left her mouth. “Jo…Jo doesn’t deserve this. A best friend who takes away her girlfriend. She doesn’t deserve her girlfriend leaving her, not like this,” Max repeated as Fiona stepped forward, shaking her head.

  “And what if Jo doesn’t even want me?” she whispered, her eyes wide as she stared up at Max. “What then?”

  Max’s breath caught, and she shook her head. “That’s the thing,” she said, miserably. “I know Jo wants you.”

  “You didn’t answer the question,” said Fiona sharply, shaking her head, too. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes sparked as if they were lit with flame from within. “What if Jo doesn’t want me?”

  “So you’d break up with Jo to be with me?” Max shook her head, sat back down on the chair as if all the strength had left her legs, and they could no longer hold her up. She suddenly felt so hollow. “That would hurt Jo so much, Fiona. And I can’t hurt her. I can’t.”

  “Max, you’re so loyal. It’s one of the things I love most about you. And it’s very admirable and wonderful,” said Fiona gently, stepping forward and tugging now at one of Max’s short locks of hair. Fiona let her fingers drift over Max’s scalp, and Max shivered again as Fiona stepped closer. As, again, she pressed her legs to Max’s knees. This time, though, Max kept her legs closed, would not let the woman step closer, more intimately, again. “But I think you think there’s something much more between Jo and me than there ever was,” said Fiona gently.

  “I love you,” said Max, stating the truest thing she knew. “And I love Jo. And I won’t hurt her. And I can’t hurt you. And I…” All of the anguish, all of the pain and despair that had been building in Max built even greater at that moment, like a great wave of heartache rose up and swallowed her whole, and suddenly, she could not speak for all of the sadness crushing her heart. “I’m sorry,” she said then, picking up her purse from where she’d left it, taking up the jacket from the back of her chair. “I have to go. Goodbye.”

  “Please don’t,” Fiona whispered, but Max shook her head, pausing in the center of the kitchen. Fiona reached out to her, but then Max turned. She couldn’t step closer to Fiona again. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself from the kiss she would need, then.

  And it would be too late.

  Maybe it was already too late.

  “Please don’t say goodbye,” Fiona whispered after her, the words broken.

  Max felt as if her heart was falling out of her chest, there was so much pain building through her. She walked quickly down the hallway and out into the sudden blast of cold, shutting the outer door and screen door behind her. The snow was falling down softly, quietly, and the few cars that were on the road crawled slowly along, the flakes scurrying past their headlights in their descent to the earth. Larry the very large cat was majestically pacing across the yard toward the neighbor’s house. It looked like a scene from a Christmas card.

  Max got into her car, starting it. She backed out slowly onto the road, and drove away, her tires kicking up snow behind her.

  Max stared at herself in the rear view mirror for a moment, her eyes wide with tears.

  The shorthaired woman stared back sadly, almost unrecognizable.

  Chapter 10: Truth

  Fiona tried to call twice Sunday morning. Each time, Max pressed “ignore
” on her cell phone, wishing she could answer it, wishing she knew what she would say if she did. Instead, Max buried herself a little deeper beneath the blankets on her couch, raising the volume on the small television with the remote. She was watching all of her favorite Christmas movies, back to back, but not really seeing any of them. The empty popcorn bowl on the table, the empty cans of coke that she left in front of her after each one was consumed, was all she could really stare at.

  But she didn’t see them, either.

  All she could see was Fiona. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Fiona’s mouth on her own. Every time she took a breath, it seemed as if she was inhaling Fiona’s sweet scent and perfume. Her fingers curled into fists, and it seemed as if they were curling over Fiona’s curves, pressing against the warmth of her body…

  If Max had thought the ache in the center of her chest had been terrible, there was nothing that could have prepared her for how unbearable it would become once she’d had a glimpse of the woman she could have, the life she could have, the love she could have.

  And then walked away.

  Max tried to convince herself that she’d done the right thing. And in most ways, she was right. She’d done the right thing because Fiona was Jo’s girlfriend, and walking away was the only way she could even remotely fix a situation that was mostly unfixable. Yes, Fiona had kissed her, and she’d kissed back. They’d already crossed that line, and if Jo ever knew, it would break her heart. So Max had done the best she could do, and she’d left the situation before it…escalated.

  And if she was being honest with herself, Max wished with all her heart that she hadn’t.

  What would have happened if she hadn’t left Fiona’s house last night? What would have been done that could not be undone? How would Max have touched and tasted Fiona, learning every part of her body and the way she moved beneath her. Max closed her eyes again, the tears threatening to spill. She hadn’t cried once since she left Fiona’s house, driving away in the dark. She wouldn’t give herself even that tiniest bit of satisfaction.