11.

Andrea had decided it would be best to go home instead of back into the bar with Sharon. They had stayed standing together in the chilly night for a few more moments, not saying much but settling the nerves in Andrea's belly nonetheless, and then Sharon had walked her the short distance to her car. They had bid each other a good night and shared a short hug that Andrea knew Sharon had wanted to be longer – her hands had fisted the back of Andrea's jacket and Sharon was reluctant to pull away, only doing so when Andrea placed a discreet kiss to her temple and reminded Sharon that she could call her when she got home. Sharon had waited with her hands deep in her pockets as Andrea got in the car and started it up, and then they had shared one last smile as Andrea drove out of her parking spot.

When Andrea arrived home, the first thing she did was undress and change back into the lounge pants and t-shirt she had been wearing before Sharon called her. There was something unquestionably satisfying about unclasping her bra and unfastening her jeans and slipping into soft cotton. The second, which happened almost immediately afterwards, was turn on her kitchen light and pull down a large stack of cookbooks from the shelf beside her refrigerator. While she was no longer worrying about where she stood with Sharon, she still couldn't find it in her to sit calmly and just enjoy the rest of her night. It came with the occupation, she thought, the constant feeling of believing you're not doing enough. Even after years, Andrea still found that she had a hard time allowing herself proper rest when she had the time for it. Cooking had been an activity that let her feel like she was still keeping busy while also giving her brain a break from her work. It also relaxed her.

Autumn had been Andrea's favorite time of the year growing up. While autumn in California was a far cry from what she had loved so dearly when she was younger – seeing the lush greenery change into vibrant reds, yellows, and oranges for instance – she still loved this time of year the most. Andrea often remembered weekends in her large backyard with her siblings and cousins, the crisp air on her face as they ran around, the warm smell of hot chocolate when they were called inside for a snack, the rich sound of laughter that filled their kitchen when they piled into the room. Autumn made her think about her family, and it filled her with such an incredible sense of home.

She had grown up with her family always close by, and even though she was far away from most of them now, she still loved feeling like part of something special like that. Aunts and uncles, and sometimes even her father, often asked why she hadn't started her own family, married and had children, but Andrea had never wanted that for herself – not the way they thought she should have it. She had built herself a life away from the majority of her blood relatives, so she had made herself a family the way that suited her best. Her family were her friends, the people who had entered her life and changed it for the better and held permanent places in her heart. Her family also included Sharon, who had, in her own way, given Andrea, albeit all grown now, three children more than Andrea had planned on having in her life. Whenever Ricky or Emily came to see Sharon, they also made sure to spend time with Andrea, and Rusty and she had been spending more time with each other lately, time together outside of that time they shared with Sharon. All three of Sharon's kids called and emailed her every now and then just to see how she was doing, and she and Emily even Skyped once a month and sent books they had read and thought the other would enjoy through the mail.

With her kitchen island covered with opened books, the dark granite surface beneath barely noticeable, Andrea felt a small bubble of energy burst inside her. She worked her fingers through her hair and used the elastic on her wrist to put it up into a messy bun, and then she tucked the strands that framed her face but would not be forced into the elastic band behind her ears so they were out of the way. Living alone meant it was always quiet in the house. She sometimes put the television on just to have some type of noise in the background, but usually she preferred music, any and all kinds.

Setting up her laptop in the kitchen with her, behind her at the breakfast bar, Andrea decided to let someone else be in control of what she listened to. While there was certainly nothing like dancing and humming along to an old favorite, discovering new music that she might have overlooked on her own was always such a treat for her. And she was in a pretty decent mood, her mind clear from the troubles she had planted in it with her uncertainties about what was happening between her and Sharon. She had a night of baking ahead of her, she had decided, and she was up to any music that could keep her feeling positive.

Music playing, Gonna Get Over You by Sara Bareilles, Andrea poured herself a glass of wine and then sat down on the stool she had pulled from the bar over to the island. She was still trying to decide what she wanted to make. She was thinking on cookies, something she could make and then deliver the next day to a few friends. But the pile of apples in her fruit basket that she had purchased for a pie she never made were making her consider other options – like the pie that was never made. But, she thought, taking a sip from her wine as she flipped the page in one of her books, something with chocolate sounded good as well.

Decisions, decisions.

. . .

"How about a slice of pie? I recommend the apple. It goes great with the coffee," the curly-haired server said, looking at Andy as he adjusted his suit jacket.

"No, just the coffee is fine. Thank you," he said after giving it some thought, and then he grinned at the friendly server. Sharon noticed it wasn't one of his normal, handsome smiles that made him look like he was full to the brim with happiness or adoration, nor was it the one he wore when he was outlandishly flirtatious. It wasn't even one of the small ones she had gotten used to see years ago. It didn't even meet his eyes, and Sharon could tell it had been forced out of politeness.

"And you, ma'am? Would you like anything to go with your tea?"

Sharon brought her eyes away from Andy and gave the server a simple shake of her head. "Just the tea, please." She probably wouldn't even drink it, but it would give her something to do with her hands, something to hold. Her belly was tight, and she didn't think she had much of an appetite, not for pie or anything else the diner had to offer.

Andy and Sharon sat in complete silence for several minutes. The server left and came back with their hot beverages and then left them once more to be alone at their table. There weren't many people there, just a few having dinner at tables closer to the entrance and four men spread around the counter with mugs and plates. Andy had walked them to one of the tables off to the side, where there was a little more privacy, and nobody had joined them in their little section since they sat down.

Sharon's hands wrapped around her tea, the warmth of it heating her cool skin. She watched the white steam rise from the fragrant liquid and sighed softly, unsure where to start, how to start, or if it was even she who should speak first. Andy had said he wanted to talk to her, and she hadn't even told him yet that there was something she also wanted to speak to him about. Sharon let out a slow breath and lifted her eyes so she could study the man across the table. He looked exhausted – not the type of exhaustion that was expected with the hours they often worked, nor that which came with having to deal with the constant reminders of the evils in the world the way they had to. Andy looked exhausted like he was in a never-ending fight that continuously left him battered and bruised, a fight that he still chose to fight despite what it was doing to him. That fight, Sharon knew, had something to do with her, and she hated thinking that she was the cause of any of his pain, any of the hurt that he wasn't all that good at hiding in his eyes.

"It wasn't all bad for you, was it?"

Andy's question made Sharon's heart drop into her stomach, and she, without thinking about it, reached her hand across the table to grab his. He allowed it and looked up so that he was looking at Sharon when she squeezed his hand, tightly, and then loosened her grip when she noticed how hard she was holding on to him.

"We both know why we're sitting here right now," he said bluntly, seeming to be ready for the same discussion Sharon knew they needed to have. "There's no use lying to ourselves or trying to make something work that just isn't meant to, not like this, not how it has been. But, I want to know. This wasn't all bad for you, right? I mean, you got something out of this, too, right?"

"Oh, Andy," Sharon sighed. "Of course it wasn't. No matter what happens from here on out, I want you to know that– I need you to know that I have, truly, loved getting to know you on a more personal level. I think we had a lot of fun together, in ways I hadn't even expected we would. Don't you?! Even before we started dating, I thought of you as a good friend, a part of my support system."

She had enjoyed his friendship more than anything they had shared in their time knowing each other, but she didn't think it was the appropriate time to tell him that. Sharon had thought there was potential for something deeper between them, wouldn't have even considered giving a relationship with him a chance if she hadn't, but it had been their friendship that gave her reasons to believe they could work together as a romantic couple. There was, without a doubt, a lot of differences between how she felt for Andy and how she felt for Andrea. The main difference, she now understood and could simplify for what it was, was she did not care for Andy in a romantic way. She cared for him deeply, enjoyed his company, and still felt as though there was much more about him that she wanted to learn – but there were no romantic feelings involved, and any love she would grow to feel for him would not be the kind he would hope for it to be.

"Okay."

Sharon raised her brow, but then she pulled her hand away from his and brought it to her lap instead. She leaned back in her seat, purposely loosened her spine and relaxed her face muscles.

"Okay," she said in the same monotone way Andy had, like an agreement to something undisclosed. What he was thinking was unknown to Sharon, but she felt it best not to push and to wait instead. He was looking at her like he wanted to say something, so she remained quiet, patient, leaving the things she wanted to say to him for later so that she could give him the chance to express his feelings on the matter.

It didn't take long for Andy to clear his throat and lean forward on the table, coffee pushed forward so he could put one of his arms where it had been. "She told you, then." It was clear it wasn't a question but a statement he was sure of, as he had nodded his head surely in a way he did when he was voicing his thoughts aloud.

However, Sharon shook her head as an answer anyway. "No, I told her," she shared with him. She wouldn't give him details of their conversation, not believing it necessary or wanting to share that moment with anyone other than Andrea for right now. However, she saw no harm in letting him know what had happened. He had the right to that, she thought, wanted him to understand was going on since it involved him as well. "After our conversation, I knew that the only way I would know how to best move forward would be if she and I, at least on some level, discussed my feelings for her."

Andy didn't look surprised by this. He nodded, not revealing his emotions on his face but unable to keep the dejected look from his eyes. "We spoke in the bar before she left."

Sharon sat up a little straighter.

Andy shrugged his shoulders a fraction. "I understand it. I don't want to, but I do. I see how– I see why you love her."

When Sharon raised her brow, Andy shrugged a bit more and titled his head just so. Sharon could tell from the way he looked at her, from little nuances she recognized and understood, that this topic was not one he found easy to discuss. She wanted to make the discussion as painless for him as possible, and it was as she thought this that she realized she would not be adding what she had initially planned on bringing up to this conversation. She realized the things she needed to say were more for her own benefit, therefore, not necessary. Sharon's biggest hope was that all three of them could find a way through this without being hurt, and having already realized that it was too late for that, she wanted there to be as little heartache as possible.

. . .

"Honey, do you know what time it is?"

Andrea put down the canister of oatmeal in her hand and looked over to the time on the stove, phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. "Yeah, it's almost eleven. Why?"

"Because you're up baking loaves of cake when you should be in bed sleeping," Fernando said. She could hear rustling in the background, and then a low groan. "Sleeping like I was about to do," he added in.

Andrea moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and mixing bowls. "I texted you. A simple yes or no would have answered my question. I didn't tell you to call me."

"You texted me to ask if my boyfriend liked apples. It was too random for me not to call."

Andrea hummed, dropping eggs and butter down on her workspace and then sitting on her stool. "You don't have to worry, I'm just restless."

"Who said I was worrying?"

Andrea rolled her eyes. "Your tone, the fact that you're still on the phone with me." She pushed the diced up apples in the lemon water with her knife as she let out a slow breath. "I'm actually feeling better since our last conversation."

"About time. That means you two have spoken and figured out your mess so I don't have to, right?"

A low chuckle tickled her throat. "My, my, don't we think highly of ourselves?! Sharon and I are more than capable of dealing with this situation on our own. We just haven't had the time to properly discuss a lot of what I believe has been bugging us both lately." A smile slowly started spreading across her lips as she remembered their tender moment together before she left Sharon earlier, and she closed her eyes and recalled the warmth of Sharon's hands on her face, so soft and right. "She told me she wants to be with me, Fernando," she confided quietly.

"Well of course she does, honey," he said like it was the most obvious thing – and Andrea usually would roll her eyes or come back with sarcastic retort when he pulled that tone, but Andrea only let out a slow breath into her phone. She was suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable. He let out one, too, and then he cleared his throat. "When?" he asked her, gentler, like he sensed that she was feeling a little fragile just from the way she responded to him.

"Tonight – although she had tried earlier this week when she stayed over. But I didn't– I wouldn't let her say it to me then."

"And how are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" He hummed his answer, encouraging her to tell him how she really felt. "Scared. But not a bad scared, you know? Scared about what's going to come next, even though I am looking forward to it, to whatever it might be. But happy, excited... Hopeful," she breathed out, smiling a little. "She said she wants to spend the rest of her life loving me, and it's different now. Sharon's told me that she loves me before, but it wasn't the same this time. The way she looked at me, Fernando..." Andrea trailed off with a nervous laugh, muscles in her abdomen fluttering.

"I'm happy for you," he said sincerely, "for both of you. And you know what? I bet Sharon's probably feeling all of those same feelings you are right now."

"Plus a crap ton more." Andrea frowned deeply, brow furrowing. "This would have been a lot easier a few months ago. I should have said something to her before she started dating Andy, you know, given her some type of–"

"Don't you even," Fernando said sternly, no-nonsense tone on full blast. "If you even begin to blame yourself for something, I swear I'll drive over there right now–"

"I'm not," Andrea insisted before he could even finish what he was saying. "I don't blame myself for anything. I just wish that I could have prevented some of what's going to happen, you know. Andy's a good man, a good man who has real, strong feelings for Sharon. He's going to get hurt, and Sharon's going to be hurt because she's going to blame herself for causing his pain."

"And who's to say that someone wouldn't have ended up hurt if things had happened differently? There's no telling what would have happened if you had told Sharon that you were in love with her before she started dating Andy. She might not have even been ready to hear that."

Andrea sighed deeply and stood up from her stool. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. That was never up for debate."

"You're also a pain in the ass," she said through laughter, feeling her good mood come back to her. "Thank you."

"Anytime. Now, don't stay up all night baking, and call me if you need me – preferably after I've gotten some sleep."

"Aye aye."

. . .

"It's honorable - -" Andy was starting to look deflated, his shoulders sagging as though being weighed down by cement blocks, "- - altruistic." He shook his head, a cocktail of disbelief, respect, and pain in his eyes as he looked past Sharon's shoulder and out of the diner. "I don't think I could do it, what she said, step away from you so you can find your happiness with someone else while I'm in love with you. But that's why you love her, isn't it? Because there's no questioning what you mean to her. There's nothing selfish about the way Hobbs loves you, and as much as I want to be upset because of all of this, I can't. Because she's right. You deserve to be loved, to be with someone who cherishes you and makes you happy – and someone who you want to love in return.

"And that's her."

Sharon had been sitting quietly, understanding his need to talk and to have her listen to him. She could do that, she could make sure he knew that she heard everything he said and felt it, felt the aching inside him as though it were her own pain. His eyes stopped meeting hers a few minutes ago, but Sharon hadn't looked away from him. She watched his face, watched the indifference crumble away to reveal the sorrow etched into his skin like years-old frown lines. She watched his jaw tighten when he got upset, and then his throat constrict as he calmed the raging emotions she imagined rushing through his system, pulse after pulse of it, sickening and dark. She watched him with a heavy heart and her own saddened eyes, wanting to reach out and touch him, console him, but keeping her hands in her lap, tight, clenched fists, knowing that he needed space, knowing that this was not something she could make feel better for him. He was hurting, and Sharon couldn't do anything about it. But she could listen. She could make sure he knew she cared.

"I thought we could make it work – after you told me about your feelings for her, I still thought we could find a way. I wanted to be understanding. I wanted to be all right with it." Andy shook his head, shutting his eyes for a brief moment. "This won't last, though. Not because you're in love with her, not because she's in love with you. This won't work because, even if neither of those things were true, I still wouldn't know how to be comfortable with the relationship you have with her. And I get it. I know that your relationship with Hobbs is a permanent fixture in your life." He finally looked at her, trying to smile but his facial muscles not allowing it. "I see it when you talk about her, how important to you she is. Being in love with her has nothing to do with that. You're grateful for what she brought to your life. You have a lot of respect for her. When you speak about her, I can tell that there's something there that goes beyond loving her, something that we don't have. Am I right?"

Sharon's head nodded slowly, her heart beating quickly in her chest. She cleared her dry throat and then reached for her lukewarm tea. "Yes," she answered verbally, tone apologetic.

He shook his head and looked past her again, narrowing his eyes. "I can't compete with that. That's always been the issue. I said it wasn't just jealousy, and it's not. It's me wanting to take a spot in your life that already belongs to someone else and coming to the understanding that I never could. And as much as I wanted to be okay with that, I can't."

"You shouldn't have to," Sharon said quietly but with her words pronounced perfectly, her voice clear. "You and Andrea have both told me I deserve to be happy, but so do the two of you. If things were to continue they way they have been, we would all be unsatisfied a few months down the line. I don't want–" Sharon pursed her lips, lowering her eyes to the table for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. "I never wanted to hurt either of you, Andy.

"When I accepted your invitation to dinner, and when I continued to let our relationship become more romantic, I did so while knowing that I had feelings for someone else. That wasn't fair to you, and I want to apologize to you for that. I wasn't ready to talk about it at the time, but I do wish I had spoken to you about that from the beginning. Or, if I'm being honest, told you right away that I thought it would be best if we continued letting our friendship grow because I thought we made really good friends."

"We did," he agreed somberly.

Sharon felt herself wanting to reach out to him again and folded her hands together.

"We do," he said a moment later, huffing out a long breath.

Sharon wondered if they would be able to continue being friends after this, if a friendship was too much to ask for. She wanted to ask him, but she was sure it wasn't the right time for that talk. They were in the midst of a conversation about the ending of their relationship, after all. They needed to work through one thing at a time, and she knew they both needed time before that could happen. But she still wondered if it would be possible.

Sharon's face must have given away her thoughts, because he then smiled lightly at her, a real smile this time, and said: "We'll get back there, I think. I'm not ready for it. It would be too much right now. It'll take time for me to be okay with the way things turned out, but I think it's fair to say that our friendship is strong enough for us to make it through a breakup."

Sharon let hope fill her chest as she placed her hand on the table, in the middle, there for him to take it if he wanted, but close enough to her if it was too much for him. "I would like that."

He looked down at her hand, up into her eyes, and then back down to her pale hand on the dark wood table. "Me too," he said, covering her hand with his own but not letting it linger.

. . .

Andrea removed the loaf pan from the oven and sat it down on the metal rack, the sweet smell of the chocolate filling the air. It was the fourth loaf to be completed, and her house had started smelling like a bakery a long while ago. The base for the bread-like loafs was the same for all four cakes, so it was just a matter of changing the ingredients a little to make different kinds. She had enough apples for two, then she made two with chocolate chunks, adding in some nuts into the one she would be keeping for herself.

Andrea was just shutting the oven when her cell phone buzzed on the counter, and she quickly removed her oven mitts and closed the door so she could see what the notification was for. The kitchen was cleaned up from her baking adventures, the only mess left on her clothes. She grabbed her phone and headed out of the room, turning her music off as she walked by the laptop with a press of a button.

A smile appeared on her full lips as she walked down the hall, reading the text message that she had just received.

I know you said I could call when I got home, but it's later than I thought it would be. I would really like to hear your voice if you're still awake.

Andrea typed a quick text and then tossed her phone to the bed. (Give me five.) She wanted to jump in the shower for a few minutes and change into something clean. She hurried through the process, nearly tripping over her own feet at one point and laughing at herself. She was acting as though she hadn't spoken to Sharon in weeks, months. There was excitement mixing with the small amount of nervous happiness that still flowed through her veins, and she could feel herself light up with something golden by the prospect of getting to be on the phone with Sharon.

Her shower was quick, and she did not linger to enjoy the rush of hot water on her skin. She dried and slipped on a shirt and underwear in record time, and then climbed into her bed, leaving the lamp on so she wouldn't fall asleep, remembering the baked goods she needed to take care of. When she was under her blanket, propped up by pillows, she put in her passcode to her phone and selected Sharon's name from her recent calls.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three ri–

"Hi."

Andrea's heart fluttered at the soft sound of Sharon's voice, like gentle exhalation directly into her ear. "Hi," she responded just as softly, her heart still dancing in her chest.

And for a moment that was all there was. They didn't say anything, but there was the very subtle sound of breathing on both ends of the phones, the slight sound of movement when Andrea rolled over to her side and faced the side of the bed where Sharon slept, the beating of Andrea's heart as she closed her eyes and imagined Sharon right there beside her. She smiled and exhaled through her nose, holding the phone tightly to her ear.

"I know you wanted to talk–"

"No," Sharon whispered, cutting her off. "This is fine. I just..."

Andrea nodded against the pillow. "Me too," she agreed to the unspoken admission.

"I needed to feel close to you."

"I'm right here," Andrea said softly. "Close your eyes. I'm right here with you."

Sharon hummed. "You always are."

to be continued...