Author's note: thank you very much for the reviews, and all the ones I can't reply to through private messages.
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Chapter twelve: Lisa.
Her name was Lisa. She had very long auburn hair and gray eyes. There was something special in her smile; as if an old pain had melted into something bittersweet. It made all her charm.
A golden bracelet caught my attention first as the spotlight made it shine brightly. She was drinking a cocktail by the bar. Alone. I never go for women who didn't come by themselves. I am unable to do that. I know it is kind of coward but it is part of who I am. Besides, it is easier to guess the reason why one single soul came to a nightclub when others might not be looking for the same kind of thing.
I offered her another drink and we began to talk. She was new in town and didn't know anyone but her colleagues. She came from Portland, Oregon. I never got to know why she had landed here in Boston; a work promotion or something more personal.
She lived in a very modern duplex and by the amount of sketches around, I ended up assuming that she was an architect.
Her golden bracelet moved along her wrist like a sensual caress, embracing her skin softly. Her hands were thin, delicate. She was extremely feminine.
Retrospectively, I think I don't have a specific type although most of the women I have been intimate with looked like me somehow. A pair of expensive stilettos, haute-couture dress and a certain sense of fashion that is hardly undeniable. But it is more an instinct, some kind of feeling I have when for the very first time my eyes stop on someone.
Lisa was nice and gentle. Exactly what I needed that night. Her bedroom had immense windows that overlooked downtown Boston. I remember all these lights lost in the darkness of the night, spreading to our feet in a magic way.
One of the best views I have had of the city so far.
"I like you..."
A confession through half-words while I was holding her in my arms and that we were both observing Boston by the windows; from her bed. Her words had slid softly on her lips before floating in the air with a wrongness I wasn't used to.
She wasn't supposed to say that. Not because we had only met a few hours earlier but because it wasn't the plan. Or at least mine. No feelings involved, never. It is better like that; safer.
I didn't reply and hated myself for doing so. It was cruel from me. She was sweet, attractive and smart. Let's face it, if I had chosen her... There was a reason why. But I just can't let it happen. Not anymore. Besides, it would be vain. My heart belongs to Jane.
I was thirty-three years old. I think she was a tad younger. Sometimes, I wonder what became of her.
…
The honey blonde's hand slid on the leather small book as she smiled warmly at the waitress.
"This is on me."
She heard Jane scoff and turned around to look at her friend as she tended her credit card to the young waitress who was still standing by.
"Maura!"
It had been completely improvised and she loved that. Her, the control freak, giving in unplanned and very last-minute evenings. She had learned how to appreciate them by Jane's side as the years had been passing by. People from her past would have said that she had changed a lot. She was more relaxed.
Jane had accepted the invitation to the restaurant immediately, not even asking whether she had to go rather dressy or could remain in her work clothes. She had seemed happy about Maura's offer and the dinner had gone really smoothly.
As they both passed the doors of the restaurant and found themselves in the street, quiet snow flakes welcomed them. Maura grabbed Jane's arm; holding on it softly.
"Let's walk for a change."
They weren't far from the detective's apartment and truth to be told, the honey blonde didn't want it to come to an end. Never. They had talked, laughed; teased each other. Things came so naturally between them that it hurt. Because it's all vain, Maura. And you know it more than anyone else.
"I will have to tell Angela about the restaurant when I come back home. It was a really nice one."
Jane repressed a sigh of frustration then rolled her eyes dramatically. For a few seconds, she stared at a snow flake melt on the back of her hand. Quietly.
"I don't even know how you can live with her being so close to you all the time. How come she hasn't driven you crazy yet? My mother is one hell of a torture for one's nerves."
Maura laughed lightly then shrugged. She liked having Angela around. They got along and somehow, the woman brought her what she had always lacked; that sentiment of belonging somewhere, to a clan.
"She surely has her opinions but our evening talks can be quite nice..."
Jane shook her head; laughed.
"Wait for the day she will try to make you date the whole neighborhood in the only hope to get grandchildren. And then we'll talk. You heard about the last one? She's trying to set me up with Giovanni's cousin, Mario. He's twenty-two years old."
Maura bit her lower lip in an attempt to restrain a laugh. Jane was right. Angela had told her about her plan. The age difference didn't seem to be a real problem to her eyes, obviously. Even less the fact he hadn't moved yet to Boston and was – for the moment – in California.
They reached Jane's apartment and stopped. Why does it always have to go so fast?
"Anyway, it's not like it's going to work out."
Was it bitterness in Jane's last remark? Maura frowned and swallowed hard before allowing a smile to embrace her lips reassuringly. She grabbed her friend's hand; held it tight.
"Oh, come on... You will find someone."
The detective laughed away her reply and focused on a point on the other side of the street. The least we could say was that she didn't look convinced at all by such comment.
"Allow me to have some doubts about that."
Their eyes locked with each other's and for long seconds, none of them dared to speak. Jane rarely gave in such confession; she almost never talked about her feelings. A car passed behind them, swallowing the quietness of the street swept away by the snow flakes.
Maura swallowed hard. Her fingers gently caressing her friend's cheek; icy skin on another one. But soft and inviting.
"Don't say that... You're smart; and beautiful..."
Jane shook her head. Her eyes were shiny now. Is she about to cry? Why?
Maura's voice resounded softly in the night; with a delicate sincerity, carried away by the snow falling from the sky.
"You're beautiful..."
Even years later, she wouldn't be able to explain what happened next, why she did that. It came out of the blue, from a very secret part of her heart. The blonde leaned over. Their lips brushed – softly – in the middle of the quiet night. A chaste kiss except Maura lost herself in it and made it last.
An alarm set off somewhere in the distance and reality hit her back. Panicked, she avoided Jane's gaze as she made a step backwards and swallowed hard.
"Goodnight..."
In a mumble of vague apologies, she turned around – headed to her car – started the engine then left.
At no moment did she dare to look behind at her friend. Her heart was beating loud – her mouth was dry – and her hands couldn't stop shaking as little by little, realization was kicking in.
Red light. She stopped. Then burst into tears.
Why had she had to do that?
