JCRM

Jillian

Adrienne sat straight up in her chair, any trace of intoxication gone. Those golden-green eyes focused on me like lasers. I couldn’t believe I’d just said those words aloud. I had a sudden urge to flee, only just managing to stay in my chair.

“What?” she asked, a note of…disbelief…amazement…in her voice.

What was I doing? My plan was…oh god, I had no plan for this. I had a plan to come up with a plan wherein I would wait until the divorce papers were put in then I would plan to tell Adrienne I was getting a divorce and how I felt. The divorce papers weren’t being put in until next Friday. My plan to plan’s not working out well. I can’t do this. I drank half a glass of wine in one gulp.

“I’m heterosexual,” I blurted out.

Her jaw dropped a bit.

“Not that sex with Paul is…was good. I mean, really, it wasn’t. Ever. Even in the beginning.”

I couldn’t seem to stop myself, Adrienne staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. I had.

“It was something I tolerated. He cared not one iota about my pleasure. Not once was he ever concerned if I had an orgasm,” I said indignantly, downing the rest of the wine and slamming the glass down on the table. “The last time? The same as the first. He just rolled over and went to sleep. That was it. Can you believe it?”

Adrienne continued staring, her eyes a bit wide and her lips slightly parted, as if she didn’t know what to say. I can’t blame her. If I were she, I’d have no idea what to say to me either.

“But no matter,” I stated, waving my hand. “I’ve left him, you know.”

“What?”

Her jaw dropped even more, her eyes now as big as saucers. I found it very disconcerting. I’ve never seen anything faze Adrienne. Apparently all this does.

“I left Paul. Five months ago. The divorce papers are being put in next Friday.”

She visibly collected herself and opened her mouth to speak. I should’ve stopped then, but I didn’t. I reached for her hand and our fingers entwined, the contact electric.

“Take me to bed.”

“What?”

Adrienne has a very deep voice. I’d no idea it could go so high, though if the expression on her face was any indication, it was painful.

“I suppose all this is a bit of a surprise,” I laughed nervously as my eyes searched her face. “I’ve certainly surprised myself.”

“A bit of a surprise?” she said, incredulous. “And you say I’m the one prone to understatement? Jill, I….” She stopped and stared at me for a few more moments.

I was so pleased she hadn’t withdrawn her hand from mine. It must be a good sign.

She straightened a bit, her eyes narrowing before she spoke. “Let me see if I have this right.”

I tried not to cringe. I hated when she said those words in that particular tone of voice. They were usually followed by some indisputable piece of logic I couldn’t ignore, often highlighting the error in mine.

“You left Paul five months ago, presumably in part because your sex life was unfulfilling, or perhaps it’s the only reason. You never mentioned you’d left him to me, although, to be fair, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised since you’ve only mentioned him twice since we’ve met and whether you’d left him or not isn’t really relevant to this…whatever…thing we have that’s almost like a job, nine to five, Monday to Friday with extended hours a day or two during the week to accommodate drinks and dinner. No weekends. No holidays. But apparently the fact you’ve left him is now relevant because you think you’re in love with me and want me to take you to bed, in spite of your declaration you’re heterosexual and the fact I have no penis. Do I have all that right?”

My eyes dropped down to our hands, the feel of her thumb gently stroking the back of my hand indescribable. “I’m terrified.”

She blew out a breath. “That makes two of us. What in the…I…damn it, Jill!”

“I’m….” I stopped as I looked back up and my breath caught. The way she was looking at me…oh god. She was angry, yes, but the love was unmistakable. “You’re so, so hard to read and then…there are these moments…where I look into your eyes and I swear I can see your soul. And I know.”

“You know what? That I’m angry?”

“That you love me,” I said. Adrienne started to protest and I interrupted. “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d left Paul?” she questioned. “That…Jill…I don’t even know what to say.”

“I….” Dear god, could I have handled this any worse? The only positive sign was she hadn’t let go of my hand. “It’s complicated.”

“‘Hey Adrienne, I left Paul.’ Doesn’t seem complicated to me.”

“You know most things are never as simple as that. This certainly isn’t,” I countered.

“Does Victoria know you’ve left him?”

“Yes, she knows,” I answered and watched as the confusion grew. Adrienne and Victoria had become friends. In fact, Victoria absolutely adored Adrienne and had been quite upset when I insisted she especially not tell Adrienne. “I asked her not to tell anyone.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.”

I was surprised when she withdrew her hand and abruptly stood. “I need to go to the toilet.”

And she was off. I watched her back as she retreated along the path into the hotel.

“Well done, Jill,” I said, my words dripping with sarcasm. “Could you possibly have cocked it up any more than you’ve done?”

Not understanding something is anathema for Adrienne. I knew that and managed to ignore it. She’d live in her head, processing all the information. Sorting it. Examining it. Putting all the pieces together until she solved the puzzle.

But she’d not be able to solve this one. She didn’t have all the pieces. And I’m not sure I can put all the pieces into words. Or if I wanted to.

What’s it to be, Jill? Make a damn decision.