The Relativity of Wrong

"It's done," Brenda said into the phone. "I quit."

Fritz breathed in deeply on the other end - he didn't seem relieved or pleased. "Effective immediately?"

"No." Brenda rolled onto her side on the big hotel bed and curled herself around a cushion. "I have to find a job first. We can't afford to lose my salary. 'Specially if I'm s'posed to live here for a while."

"Okay. Well, I've made an appointment...in a months time, that's all they had," he said and sighed. "I hate that I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too," Brenda cooed. "Just...let me come home."

"I can't. Not yet. I need more time."

The blonde wiped at her eyes, trying to not let him hear that tears were streaming down her face. "How's Joel?"

"He's fine," Fritz said quietly - perhaps he was just as sad. "Your mother called."

"What did you say?"

"That you were busy. She saw you on TV. You and 'your friend, Sharon'. At that massive pile up."

Brenda nodded. "I'm only investigatin' the body in the trunk. It's not been on the news yet." She swallowed then said, carefully, "Sharon's investigatin' the pile up."

"Ah. Well. I can't say I'm sad that you quit."

"It's the proof you wanted, wasn't it? You thought I loved my job more than you, and Sharon more than you-"

"Brenda," he breathed. "I don't wanna talk about her."

"Okay."

"Because I don't even care about why you did it anymore." He went silent for a moment, and Brenda was left to contemplate that. "It was wrong. And because I love you, I thought, hoped, that there was a reason, something to make it less so but, no matter what, it's still wrong."

When they had hung up, Brenda thought about calling her Mama again. See how everyone was doing. But deep down she knew, that if she called again so soon, her Mama would know something wasn't right.

Something was wrong.

The blonde laid flat on her back and stared at the ceiling of her hotel room, counting the tiles. No matter what Fritz said, wrong was never just wrong, not to her.

What she had done and, really, had continued doing after he had found out, was terribly wrong.

Cheating, she thought, didn't start and end with sex. Her life as a cheat had started the moment she had fantasized about sleeping with Sharon, entertained the idea. Had let the woman touch her. Had let her kiss her. Had met her in bars and restaurants and lied about where she went.

And her cheating hadn't yet ended. Just last night she had sat drinking wine with the woman, talking, sharing her innermost thoughts and feelings.

That was still cheating. And that was wrong. Perhaps not as wrong as sex, but still.

When would it end? When she finally left the LAPD? When she finally left LA? California? Moved back east?

Brenda didn't have an answer for that. Just like she had never had an answer for Fritz when he had asked her 'why'.

And if she had a reason, something beyond selfishness, something beyond 'just because', that would make what she had done less horrible, just that little bit less wrong.

If she had feelings-

Brenda slapped the palms of her hands over her eyes as a sob forced its way out. Tears streamed down her cheeks and the sobs wouldn't stop, wracking her body, one after the other like a mighty earthquake.

If she had feelings for Sharon then all this, what she had done, it wouldn't be so wrong at all.

~ fini ~

Yes. I know. It's another unhappy ending. I promise though, I really do, the next installment will have that happy ending. The first chapter will be up on Monday, so don't get me assassinated just yet.

But...let me thank all of you for reading this story and for leaving all that amazing feedback! I appreciate it so much, I can't even tell you! So, thank you, and I hope you'll stick with me through the next installment.