Pining & Loving

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “I will. I’m hoping it’ll be better tomorrow, but as you know, it doesn’t usually pass that fast.”

  “It’s okay, Gwen. Take your time. I know you’ll make it up to me later with extra shifts and your go-getter spirit, you always do. Just… try to heal best you can, duck.”

  “Yes. Thank you,” Gwen croaked.

  They said goodbye, and as soon as the call was over, Gwen dialled the number to Edward, the therapist with the sock issue.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Confidence

  Aya stood by Susannah’s shiny, new kitchen table, checking her phone for the hundredth time. Susannah was late. More than two hours late.

  About an hour ago she’d texted Aya to tell her that she was stuck at work and to have dinner without her. That had happened a lot during the two weeks they’d dated. Susannah would invite her over and then be extremely late. This time, however, it really bothered Aya.

  There was a biographical movie about a female boxer on at a small, artsy cinema close by, and it was only showing for one night. She’d been dying to see it, and when Susannah heard that, she decided they should go together, make a date of it with a steak dinner before the movie, and hours of incredible sex after.

  That was tonight, and the movie was starting in twenty-eight minutes. If they hurried, they could still make it, missing only the trailers. If Susannah came home in the next five minutes. And if traffic was light.

  Luck was on Aya’s side. There was the sound of a key in the door, and in the next moment Susannah came in, dropping her designer bag on the floor and unbuttoning her mocha coat.

  Aya watched her in confusion. Why had she taken her makeup off at work? She only did that when she was working late and wanted to go straight to bed when she got home.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” Aya said. “No need to take your coat off; we’ll have to rush to the cinema right away.”

  Susannah’s supermodel features twisted into a scowl as she hung up her coat. “No. I’m in for the night. Sex and sleep are all I have energy for. I hope you’ve eaten as I told you to. I had a salad at work.”

  “B-but we said we’d go see this movie? You know how much I’ve been looking forward to it.” Aya paused to clear the whinge out of her voice. “I was going to go on my own, remember? But you said I should book tickets for us both.”

  She looked from Susannah to the door. Should she go on her own? She could still make it. No, it was more important to have this discussion with Susannah. They had to settle this. She was done constantly being disrespected.

  Susannah slipped off her high heels with movements calculated to draw Aya’s gaze to her shapely, bare legs. Annoyingly, it worked. “I know you don’t have a job, honey. If you did you would know how tired you get after long day.” Susannah sighed. “Especially in my case, as I have to pretend to like, and even want to flirt, with the idiots I work with. They all want to tell me about their boring, little lives and their families. Or worse, drool over me and think I don’t notice.”

  Aya crossed her arms over her chest, trying to not look as hurt as she felt. “Hey, I might not have a job now, but when I boxed professionally I’d spend almost all day in the gym and sometimes whole evenings in the ring.” She stopped to catch Susannah’s eye to ensure she was listening. “I still made time to go out with my girlfriends. Especially if there was an event that meant a lot to them.”

  “Girlfriends? Oh dear, do you think I’m your little girlfriend?” Susannah said with a smirk. She smoothed down her thin designer dress, drawing attention to how it hugged her hourglass figure. She bit her lip seductively before adding, “That’s not why I keep a sexy ex-boxer around, wild thing. I want your quiet mouth and that hot body. Not to mention your stamina.” She walked into the kitchen, taking her earrings off while adding, “Not that you’ll need much of that tonight. I doubt I’ll last very long.”

  Aya felt herself bare her teeth and closed her mouth. Two instincts fought in her, not fight or flight, but fight or fuck. She didn’t want a quarrel, especially as she knew Susannah would talk in circles until she won the argument. Until Aya felt silly and like she was overreacting. They’d tried that out a few nights ago. Not tonight.

  She prowled over to Susannah and pulled her into a rough kiss. Susannah dropped the earrings and responded with enthusiasm. As annoyed as Aya was with her, the way this woman kissed… it took her breath away. Susannah’s hands moved over her body, grabbing and stroking greedily. Aya’s body replied in kind, pressing closer and closer to Susannah’s inviting curves.

  Aya pulled away from the kiss, breathless. “Don’t think the fact that I want to shag now means we won’t talk more about your comments later.”

  “Talk? Oh my gorgeous wild thing, didn’t you hear me when I mentioned your quiet mouth? I picked you as flavour of the month because you so rarely talk.”

  Aya ground her teeth at those words.

  Quiet mouth. Flavour of the month. Wild thing.

  She had loved that nickname at first. Loved being wild for Susannah. But now, all she heard was the “thing” part. As if she was a belonging. Or an animal that Susannah got as a pet. Well, Aya Lawson was no one’s pet.

  “Stop trying to piss me off. I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to rile me up to have wilder sex.”

  “Is that what I’m doing,” Susannah purred. “Or am I just too tired to pretend to be nice tonight?”

  “Keep bloody talking like this, and things might not go your way.”

  Susannah gave her an incredulous look. “Oh? What are you going to do? Spank me?” Her voice dripped with condescension and mockery.

  “Yeah.” Why not, Aya figured. Maybe it could make her feel better. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “Ha. By all means, little darling. Be my guest,” Susannah said, turning around to hike her dress up and her lacy knickers down before bending over the kitchen table in slow, deliberate movements.

  The sight was mouth-watering, and for a moment Aya forgot about the fight. Hell, she forgot her own name. Then she saw Susannah craning her neck to glance back at her and give her an arrogant smirk. Then she remembered.

  Aya gave the rounded, soft arse a smack. Then another one on the other cheek. Then a third, harder this time. Susannah didn’t make any sign that it stung or that it was making her think twice about her behaviour. In fact, her happy laughs and theatrical moans made it clear that she was still very much in charge and that this was what she had wanted all along.

  Aya gave up. Spanking had been a silly idea anyway. Her whole body still pulsated with its need for Susannah. Her brain faintly registered that it wished her body would shut the hell up. Nevertheless, it wanted the woman in front of her. Needed her. Needed to be in control, even if it was only for a few hours.

  “Go to the bedroom. Then get on your back,” Aya growled, trying to quell the emotional quiver in her voice.

  “Certainly,” Susannah said, standing up straight before slipping out of the lace underwear around her ankles. As she sauntered to the bedroom she called, “Does that mean we’re done with your little temper tantrum and are getting down to what matters? Because I’ve had a very long day and want some stress relief.”

  Aya didn’t reply. She simply set her jaw and watched Susannah take her dress and bra off with efficient speed before draping herself on her satin-sheeted bed.

  With harsh movements, Aya got on the bed and parted Susannah’s thighs. Aya drank in the heady scent of Susannah and how she looked right now, splayed out and eager. Nothing else between them worked, but this… this was just what Aya had wanted. What she had daydreamed about. Aya got comfortable and moved in with careful fingers to pull up the clitoral hood and place a few nibbling kisses on the swollen nub. There was no doubt that Susannah had enjoyed the spanking. Aya stopped teasing and got down to devouring every inch of pink in front of her. Tonight, she’d make Susannah tremble.

  She shifted between quick circles with the tip of her tongue, long stro
kes, and deep kisses, darting back up to the clit in the pattern she knew Susannah liked. She tongued forth louder and louder moans from Susannah, wanting to drive her wild, to make her weak with pleasure. To make Susannah yield to her in some small way.

  It didn’t work.

  As her mouth took Susannah, Aya found herself frequently looking up to get reassurance from her lover. Strange, she knew she was doing this right. She could hear that. Feel that. Besides, she’d always been good at this, mainly because she enjoyed it. Nevertheless, something about Susannah always made her doubt herself. She wondered if that doubt was something Susannah had wanted all along, something she had implanted during their every interaction.

  Susannah moved against her mouth now, undulating her pelvis to get the pressure where she wanted it and to add friction. They got into a rhythm, and for a few moments, everything in the world narrowed down to simple sensations. Warm, wet, soft, pulsating. It all made sense for a little while, and Aya didn’t have to think, only do.

  Now she made Susannah tremble, just as she had wanted. Susannah gushed against her mouth with a possessive growl, holding Aya’s face in place as she rode out her orgasm.

  When she was done, she pulled Aya up to give her a quick kiss and mumble, “Mm, brilliant as always.” Another kiss, then Susannah stretched and said, “Wow. I’m too spent to even brush my teeth. We’ll have to call it a night, wild thing. Sleep well.” She moved aside and appeared to pass out more than fall asleep. She always did that, slept like a drunk person or a baby, only the blink of an eye separating being awake and being deeply asleep.

  Aya envied that. Envy wasn’t all she was experiencing, though. The unsatisfied throbbing between her legs and the unease in her heart fought over which would make her feel worse. She wiped slickness off her chin while thoughts crowded her mind. This wasn’t the first time Susannah had left her feeling small, disregarded, and unsatisfied before bed. It hadn’t bothered her this much before; she’d been busy with her adrenaline rush and the confidence boost of being this woman’s pick of all the lovers in the world.

  Tonight, though, something had shifted, both in Susannah’s behaviour and in her own reaction to it. Aya watched the sleeping blonde. She was as strikingly beautiful as she’d always been. What had changed was how Aya saw that beauty. It no longer made her heart soar; instead it made her draw back.

  It’s like one of those toxic plants or venomous animals, she realised. All beautiful colours that pull you in but are actually meant to warn you of the danger underneath.

  Aya’s arousal drained away. How had she ended up here?

  She ground her teeth. No, no cop-outs. You know how you ended up here.

  She’d made Susannah a symbol of her own failures. Winning Susannah’s affection had been the ultimate victory and proof of her own worth. Keeping her, date after date, had only solidified it. Now, she was disgusted by her own choices. How had her need to prove herself become more important than caring for her own well-being and having a partner she could be proud of? A partner who wasn’t disrespectful or had an ugly heart under her charming and pretty veneer? Even the lovemaking, if Aya was honest, had always been the way it was tonight: amazing at first, but disappointing in the end. Even when Susannah reciprocated or they came together, she showed in a million ways that she was more interested in taking than giving.

  Aya slowly stood up. The thought that had been planted at some point during these two weeks was now in full bloom: she deserved more. Aya could no longer allow herself to be in a relationship with someone as cold and fake as the woman sleeping there. Couldn’t ignore the way Susannah behaved.

  Gwen had been right. Susannah wasn’t who they’d assumed she was. Who they had dreamed she was.

  Aya tilted her head as she watched Susannah sleep. Perhaps Gwen hadn’t been exaggerating the awfulness of what Susannah had said that day. Aya hadn’t believed it then, mainly because she didn’t want to. It was easier to assume her crush had only said unpleasant things because she was impressing her boss. But now Aya knew that Susannah never said anything she didn’t want to say. She found ways to twist situations so that she only had to do what she wanted deep down.

  Susannah slept on, that cold beauty of hers showing in the smug smile tugging at her lips. Aya wished she’d listened to Gwen. Believed Gwen.

  Guilt spread through her, like an infection in the blood.

  She pushed that aside. She needed to deal with what was happening here and now: she and Susannah in whatever this relationship was.

  She quietly gathered the things she’d brought over for what she thought was going to be a romantic evening and a sleepover. She wrote a quick note for Susannah and left it on her kitchen counter:

  This “wild thing” won’t be caged, especially not by you.

  I’d wake you to say goodbye,

  but why bother when you only picked me because I don’t talk.

  Don’t contact me.

  Aya laced the boots—which Susannah had complained were too old and scuffed— tighter and strode out, filled with the confidence of knowing she’d made the right choice. Confidence? Yes, she decided. This gave her more confidence than winning Susannah ever had.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Eleven Centimetres of Furry Antidepressant

  Gwen sat in Edward’s office, staring at that ridiculous poster of the bridge. Its quote was surely mocking her. “Be not wishing and pining but thankfully content. For it is a short bridge between wanting and regret.”

  She’d pined and wished, then met the real woman behind the daydream, leaving her with plenty of regret.

  Edward sniffed. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Gwen. You’ve cancelled two weeks’ worth of appointments, and your excuses have been less than convincing.”

  Like she didn’t know that.

  She stalled, sipping the cup of tea he’d given her, then put it down so she could place her hand over her heart. It was beating rapidly, but not fast enough to be in panic attack mode. “Sorry about cancelling. I’ve been having a rough time.”

  “That’s when you should have more therapy, not less.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologise to me, Gwen. It’s you who suffers. You should come to these appointments for your sake, not for mine.”

  “Yes. I know that,” Gwen snapped.

  Silence sank into the room, filling every corner. He was looking at her, but she avoided his gaze.

  After a moment, he spoke. “So, last time we met, you’d come home from Chester and your infatuation with this ‘Mocha’ had been dashed.”

  “Yes.”

  He consulted his notes. “The things she said, they must’ve affected you. Hit a nerve, so to speak?”

  “You mean because she invalidated and mocked people with mental health issues? Yeah, that didn’t feel great.”

  “Do you think that worsened your depression peak?”

  Gwen wanted to punch something, preferably the poster with that damn bridge on it.

  “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I don’t know.” She grabbed onto her chair’s armrests. “Maybe I spiralled faster and further down because I used to have a fun diversion to brighten my mornings, and now I don’t. Maybe I subconsciously had Susannah as a replacement for a real love interest, and now I’m lonely. I DON’T KNOW!”

  “Okay, okay,” Edward held his hand out in a calming gesture. “That’s fine. This is probably a natural depression peak, brought on by hormonal changes or lack of sleep. Maybe even part of the usual cycle of your clinical depression; I haven’t treated you long enough to be sure.”

  “Which is why you want me to keep a journal, so I can measure when my highs and lows come, I know,” Gwen muttered. “I will start that. One day.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. Anyway. This whole Mocha, or Susannah, debacle could’ve worsened your depression, or perhaps you would have ended up here without any triggers. We don’t know.”

  Triggers. Gwen’s thought
s went to Aya. She hadn’t spoken to Edward about her, had she? Maybe she should tell him how she missed the friendship that never was? Or about the pain of Aya taking Susannah’s side over hers, about that Aya didn’t believe her. Maybe even tell him about how Aya’s Facebook updates about her dates with Susannah made her queasy. No. She couldn’t make herself voice all of that. Not yet.

  Edward carried on. “Whatever triggered it, we might need to discuss increasing your dose of antidepressants. And schedule in more frequent appointments.”

  Gwen took her time considering that. More appointments made sense. More medication? In her experience, that could help. Or it could leave her numb, bloated, and tired, making her sleep her days away. She didn’t want to go through that again. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “To be honest, it’s not that bad right now. I’ll come in for more frequent appointments, but I think we should save upping the medication for if it gets terrible. This time, I think I caught it before it got completely out of hand.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. The proof is that I’m here now,” Gwen said honestly. She picked up her mug and gazed into it as she thought out loud. “I think you’re right. This low period did hit harder because of Susannah, but more because I used Susannah’s visits to the café as something to look forward to each day. An extra antidepressant, you know? Now that I don’t have that, it’s harder to keep my head above water.” She took a sip. “I think I just need a distraction. Something to focus on each day. Something on the horizon to set my gaze on while I battle through this crap.”

  He tugged on an earlobe. “I see. Why haven’t you tried that in these past two weeks?”

  “I don’t know. I guess…” Gwen stared back into the comforting russet brown of her tea as her thoughts settled into their rightful slots. “I saw no point. I didn’t think I was worth that effort, so I didn’t motivate myself to really try. But now that I can’t draw or work, I’ll have to motivate myself.”