J—

"Hurry up, Mash, you don't want to be late!"

"Be right there," Mashiho yells back.

He's been on edge all day. Anyone who heard him while getting his hair cut would think he's going to show up on the red carpet tonight rather than at a middle school dance.

"Don't forget, she'll want to take pictures so you need to plan for extra time."

"How do I look?" Mashiho comes in wearing a maroon button down shirt, with grey dress pants and a thin grey tie. He's wearing shoes instead of sneakers, and rewashed his freshly cut hair so the front is parted to the side and hangs down just above his left eye.

I cover my open mouth with my hand. I wasn't prepared for this. He looks handsome. That I'm used to, but not like this. It's a mature-I'm-trying-to-impress-girls kind of handsome.

"What? Did I miss button my shirt?" Mashiho looks down to check for himself.

"Not at all. You look great."

Mashiho nods, "I hope she thinks so."

"I'm sure she will."

The doorbell rings. I look around the house. Two laundry baskets full of clean, unfolded clothes sit on the couch. It doesn't look awful, but certainly not the way I want the house to look for company. Especially not for someone who's never been here before.

"Mashiho, you sure you're supposed to meet at her house?"

"Mom, I know where we're supposed to meet."

"Do you have any idea who's at the door?"

My son shakes his head.

I open the door, and my heart skips a beat. Lisa stands in front of me. She's dressed for the dance, in khaki pants, a light green button down shirt that deepens the color of her eyes, and a paisley... tie?

I think my panties melted in the last thirty seconds.

I never saw her dressed like this. A playful light shines in her eyes as they crawl up and down my body. Her eyes must hold magic because with just that look, I feel dampness pool at the top of my thighs.

"May I come in for a minute?" She asks, pulling me from my staring stupor.

I pull my eyes from hers so I can think. "Of course. I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you. Can I get you a drink?"

"No. I'm just here to see Mashiho for a minute."

"Oh." I call my son.

"Hey now, no pouting," she's wearing that sexy, smug look. The one she wears far too often. I want to pound on her chest until I wipe it off. "I'm doing this the only way I can."

I'm confused, but I step to the side and make way for Mashiho.

"Hey, man. I thought since its Valentine's Day, you might want to give this to Ella."

Lisa reaches behind her back and hands Mashiho a red rose. How the hell did she pull that off, I didn't even see it. My heart warms, my eyes tear. Lisa is going out of her way for Mashiho. She's a good woman. I feel incredibly lucky that she's in both of our lives.

"Thanks, Ms. Manoban. I got her one of those small chocolate hearts they were selling at school today. But I didn't think of a flower."

"Then I'm betting you didn't think of one for your mother either."

Mashiho shakes his head. "No, I didn't."

"Then I'm glad I did."

Lisa reaches behind her back again and hands my son another red rose. Now I know what she meant. This is the only way she can give me something, anything, for Valentine's Day without raising Mashiho's suspicion.

"After all, she'll always be the most important woman in your life."

With this realization comes an even more frightening one. I'm not falling for her anymore. The fall started during that first conversation on the school steps months ago. She worked her way under my skin, inch by inch, until she infiltrated my heart. Now I'm done falling. I've landed someplace I never thought possible, and it's terrifying.

"Thanks, Ms. Manoban."

"Alright," Lisa, claps her hands together. "My job here is done. I need to get to school."

I don't want her to leave. I want to pull her inside and drown her in kisses to show her what's in my heart and how much I appreciate what she did. I can't though. I can't do anything but say thank you and watch her go.

"See you." Mashiho's voice pulls me back into the moment. "Mom, I'm going to text Ella and make sure she's ready." My son turns and walks away.

"Thank you," I say, as Lisa takes a few steps away.

She turns back, and the look in her eyes, I can't move. I'm frozen. Held in place by her very hot stare.

"It's my pleasure."

After taking about a hundred pictures at Ella's house, many with the Camaro as a backdrop, we arrive at school. Lisa was right, I do like Ella. She seems like a very sweet girl. Polite. Well mannered. And very pretty.

It's not hard to see what Mashiho likes about her. She laughs at his jokes and has a nice sense of humor. This is the type of girl I want Mashiho to hang around. I couldn't have picked out someone nicer for him.

I don't bother parking. Instead, I pull up in front of the school building. I say goodbye as Mashiho gets out and walks around to open the door for his friend. Friend, that's a joke. Anyone with half decent vision could see he's head over heels for her, and her shy, flirty smiles give away her interest.

I watch with pride as the kids enter the school, hoping I'll catch a glimpse of Lisa. I know I just saw her, but I never get enough of her, no matter how much time we spend together, or how long we go without seeing each other, I always want more.

Unfortunately, she's not outside. I see her car in the parking lot. It's not as good as seeing her, but knowing she's near makes me happy. I leave looking forward to later in the night when we can text.

I go home wondering how I'll pass the two hours I need to kill before I pick the kids up. I pull a vase out of the cabinet and fill it with water. Before putting my rose in, I trim the bottom of it and add sugar.

I bring the flower to my nose and breathe in the sweet fragrant scent. I love the way Lisa maneuvered to give this to me. I love that she's so great with Mashiho. And the fact that my son likes and looks up to her. it warms my heart seeing them together.

I pull my phone out. And send a message.

Me: Thanks again for the rose. Both for me, and the one you gave Mashiho for Ella. I don't know how to thank you.

I try not to keep looking at my phone for a response. She's chaperoning. She needs to keep her eyes trained on the kids, not on her messages. My brain knows this, but my heart still hopes I'll hear the chime of a new message coming in. It takes five minutes and a million glances at my phone, but I see the dots on the screen.

Lisa: Can't wait for you to thank me properly.

Me: I assume that would be sexually.

Lisa: Of course.

I love how flirty she is. I love how Lisa makes me feel. I love this silly giddy feeling I get when we talk or when we're together. I love . . . I stop right there. I don't allow myself to finish that thought.

I drop my phone on the counter as if touching it might prove fatal. What the hell is wrong with me? Lisa is about here and now, being able to move on and fulfill desires. She isn't about happily ever after. How I feel for her, it's not matching up to any of this.

I love her?

I can't. I don't. I won't allow myself to love her. I love my husband. Still. Always. Enjoying Lisa's company is okay. Fantasizing about her while I get myself off, who could blame me? Having the hottest sex of my life with her, that's an experience everyone isn't lucky enough to have. But love? It doesn't fit. Not for me. Not for her. Not at all.

"Hey mom, a bunch of kids are going to Burger Buster. Would you mind dropping us off?"

My eyes trail to Lisa's car. It's still in the parking lot. She's still nowhere to be seen. Which is for the best. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, seeing her car leaves me with an empty feeling. Like something's missing, which is absolutely ridiculous since the car I'm driving belongs to her.

"Mom? Can we go?"

"What? I'm sorry." I glance at my son and his date through the rear view mirror. "Where did you want to go?"

"Burger Buster. Everyone's going to be there."

"We have to check with Ella's mother."

"I already did," she answers, with a sweet smile. "My mom said she's okay with it as long as you are. And she'll even come pick us up and drive us home so we don't have to bother you any more than we already did."

"It's no bother, sweetheart. I'm happy to do it."

I drop the kids off and head back to my house. By the time I get back, it's about half an hour since the dance ended. I shouldn't expect to hear from Lisa. I shouldn't expect anything from her, but the way she's been acting, it's hard not to. Didn't she say she wanted to spend Valentine's Day with me? Now that we both have free time, where the hell is she?

My phone chimes, and my heart leaps. I swallow hard, recognizing all the signs of an impending disaster.

Mashiho: Told you everyone was going to be here. Even Ms. Manoban and Ms. Chou are here.

Along with the message is a picture of Lisa and a beautiful young woman sitting at a booth. A rose lays on the table. They're looking at each other. Engaged in deep conversation, or staring into each other's eyes. It's a candid shot. She must not have seen Mashiho, or I doubt my son would've been able to snap this picture. For a variety of reasons.

Ms. Chou is young. Really young from what I remember. A first year teacher. She's beautiful, with long dark hair and chestnut eyes to match. I can't see her features well in the picture, but I see enough for it to hurt.

Lisa is out with another woman. On Valentine's Day. A young. Unattached. Beautiful woman. The type of woman she should be with. The type of woman she can build a future with. Ms. Chou'd be a fool not to be interested. Lord knows Lisa's a great catch. And Lisa deserves to be happy.

I don't respond to Mashiho's text. There's nothing to say.