Loving the Lie

I've never been the other woman before. I'm braking promises to myself, lying to the woman I love and betraying a good friend. Those sins are all forgivable. The fact that I don't feel guilty is not.

She thinks I'm innocent, that I don't know that I am her mistress. I've known the whole time. Even before I made my first move, I knew, yet I forged ahead anyway. I was the one who kissed her first, who pulled her close, who tempted her to stray. I couldn't help myself, though, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Does that make me a bad person? Yes. Am I going to Hell? Probably. Do I care? No.

I can't regret the decision that brought Sara to my arms and my bed. She has passion, and with me she is unfettered and unbound. She lets everything go. I love watching her deep brown eyes light up when she's with me. I love to see her smile widen when I walk into the room. I love her.

At first it was lust, lust at first sight. She's gorgeous, legs that go for days, dark chocolate eyes that you can get lost in, silky dark hair. She's all wrapped up in a firm and well-kept package. There's more, though, beyond her looks. She has dedication and a fierce need to see justice done. That's all most people see, a brooding brunette who works too much.

I get to see the real Sara. The Sara that sings in the shower, the Sara that drives too fast, the Sara that is a closet Trekie, the Sara that has a soft spot for animals. The real Sara, my Sara…his Sara.

I love her, and I know that on some level, she loves me too. To everyone else at the Lab and the PD, we are friends. Good friends who work well together. We will smile, make witty remarks and occasionally, we touch. Brief little touches that mean everything to us and nothing to everyone else. It's a lie.

I am living a lie. I'm her friend, her coworker and secret lover. It feels like I'm living a lie. The truth, that Sara is head-over-heels in love with Gilbert Grissom, is too much to bear.

All things considered, I love the lie.