When Julia couldn’t finish her thought, Erin leaned just ever so slightly closer to her. With fingers full of comfort, she dragged one hand up the arm that Julia rested against the back of the couch. It wasn’t seductive. It wasn’t done in a way to tease and then take away. It was a sensual touch that engulfed her like a rolling mist. Erin’s eyes glimmered with what could be. Julia felt it. She felt the sparks ignite from Erin’s fingertips and sink deep into her skin.
When Julia didn’t speak right away, Erin’s eyes held what could only be described as doubt–not of whether she wanted to be doing what she was right then, but with fear of rejection. She was afraid Julia wouldn’t want her, and that was harder to wrap her head around than anything else.
Julia wanted to be even closer than they already were, disappearing between shared breaths and sticky skin. She wanted to scream yes, yes, yes from even the most dilapidated rooftops. Something, something buried deep within her told her she couldn’t.
Instead, she did what she always did; she retreated back to the sanctity of safety–the consistency of her complacent life–even though she wasn’t complacent anymore.
It didn’t matter how badly she wanted to say yes. All she could think about was it being too much, too soon, when pictures of Marin still bore into her from all sides. So, she pulled away slowly, all of a sudden too aware of where she was and what she was surrounded by. Marin. It always came back to Marin, a history written in stone.
“I didn’t mean to–” Erin stood up just as Julia did, her arm outreached with concern.
Her eyes dulled as she blinked them furiously, as if she was the one who messed up the consistent tempo of their friendship, as if the pulsing heartbeat between them became too great and the rhythm fell to ceaseless movement.
“You,” breathed Julia, rubbing her hands on her face. “You. You, you, you.”
“I’m sorry if I–”
“No, Erin.” Julia faced her, her voice full of misplaced understanding.
Her eyes pleaded with hope that she’d understand, that she’d know it wasn’t her. Even though in a way it was. It was the inexplicable way that their bodies gravitated towards the other–sun and moon threatening to collide to create an entire new day.
“I can’t explain any of this.” Julia’s voice was higher than usual, the strain spreading from her toes to her vocal chords. She motioned to the space between them and Erin understood, her arms dropping to her sides.
“I kno-” Erin began.
Julia couldn’t do it. She couldn’t see the disappointment on Erin’s face.
“It’s getting late.” Julia tried to smile, but it felt forced and tight on her face.
They stood there for a few breaths, absorbing the finality in that statement like a paper towel in water. Erin weighed Julia’s eyes, the squint in her brow shifting lightly as if she was gauging how big of a risk to take.
“Right,” Erin said as she slowly nodded her head, the realization a lead sinker. “Can we just talk abo–”
“I think you should go,” Julia lied.
Erin’s eyes turned down as her lips pressed into a straight line. She looked around almost as if she had lost something–as if she brought something she would need to take back before she left–her eyes wandering anywhere but Julia. She looked so hurt, and then her composure was back as if it was there all along.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” she said finally.
She grabbed her jacket from the closet, the sound of a swinging hanger grinding on metal grating through the hall. Then the front door closed.
Keegan emerged from the open door in the guest bedroom. Perfect timing! She came out with a scowl on her face, her phone hanging to her side in her hand. Julia pictured Keegan leaning her ear against the door, listening after she hung up with Ben.
“How much did you hear?” Julia sighed as she picked up the plates scattered on the table, them haphazardly clinking as she walked to the kitchen sink.
“What didn’t I hear?” Keegan scoffed sarcastically. “Jesus, Julia! What the hell was that about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You never want to talk about anything anymore.”
“What the hell,” Julia turned towards her, the frustration painted bright red on her face, “was with that line of questioning?”
“What the hell was with how you kicked her out?”
“I didn’t kick her out,” Julia huffed, “and you don’t get to keep turning every question on me.”
“Right, you didn’t kick her out and I just asked questions that we were both wondering.”