I made myself leave.

I hadn’t wanted to, but I knew it was wrong. What we were doing, it was wrong.

But the kiss. Fantastic. So fucking unbelievable. I was home.

She felt it, too. I’m certain that she did. Why else would she have cried, if she hadn’t felt so much in our kiss?

At first it was just her. I know how she is. Lust. Possession. I’m still hers, in her mind, even if she has another.

How I wanted her to kiss me. I didn’t think she’d do it.

I’d even mentioned Jodi. I was trying to protect her from herself. Protect me from my desires.

It was just us in that room, though. No one present to save us from ourselves.

Until it ended. Until I forced its end.

I wanted her so badly.

In my mind, looming, was Jodi. I had to remind myself that Bette had a girlfriend. I had to remind myself that Bette’s girlfriend was not me. That kissing Bette was not right.

Despite the alcohol. Despite the silk blouse that draped so delicately over her breasts. Despite the lust. Kissing Bette was not right.

At first I accepted, but I withheld, also. I acknowledged our attraction but the act remained one of pure lust.

Then she cried.

She broke down in my arms. How many times has that happened? Rarely. Fuck. I can’t leave her like that. I can’t resist her, either.

How many times has Bette been willing to be so open? So unshielded? Certainly never in such a public place.

I had to kiss her again. Different, though, this time. This was an affirmation of her. Affirming that she could be vulnerable if that was what she needed. Affirming that I understood.

Affirming my love.

That’s why I had to leave. She had gathered her wits enough that the dynamic changed.

I know her. Had things been allowed to progress she would have had me there, then, in that room.

I couldn’t let that happen. Not for her sake. Not for Jodi’s.

I left.

I found Brenda. We returned to her apartment and it was immediate. We fucked.

I wasn’t fucking Brenda, though. I was fucking Bette. My body was finding release. My heart was given to Bette.

Not that Brenda would have noticed.

Now she’s here, sleeping. I’m awake. I’m in her bed.

I didn’t want to leave.

I had to.

(the end)