LISA
..
..
Rules.
Protocol.
Guidelines.
I need something.
Minimal thought was involved in my decision to request this flight to Sydney. After months of following Jennie's posts on social media, I needed to see her. Really see her.
Why? Well, I'm still trying to figure that out.
Now I've seen her. Now I know how her lips feel against mine. That's not why I came here. I feel like I need to apologize to Rosé. It's stupid, but feelings are exempt from any sort of reason or justification.
Jennie had too much wine.
She said some crazy shit.
I was tired.
She was confused.
Period.
It doesn't have to be awkward. Maybe I requested this flight because being close to Jennie makes me feel close to Rosé. But I don't think that's it. I took this flight for the same reason Rosé couldn't get enough of Jennie—she doesn't look at me like someone who lost her wife.
Jennie didn't look at Rosé like a woman dying from cancer.
I didn't fully understand the importance of that feeling until now.
So … have I flown to the other side of the earth to feel alive again? It's looking like the most honest explanation.
After I get out of the shower, there's a text from Jennie.
I can't make it to brunch. Jisoo has a tour scheduled. Happy birthday. Safe flight home.
Reading it three times, I grapple with the disappointment I feel. We didn't say goodbye. With my next breath, I call her.
"Hi!" She answers as if she's excited, maybe even a little surprised to hear from me.
"Hey. Last minute tour?" I ask.
"Yeah. I'm so sorry. Jisoo is too."
"What time will you be done? We didn't get to say goodbye."
There's a long pause.
"Jen?"
She clears her throat. "Unfortunately, not until later. And Jisoo and I have plans tonight. She's fixing me up with a friend of a friend. A date. That's good. Right?"
Another pause holds the line for several seconds.
"Sure. That's good. Be careful. Be smart."
"Yup," she says with a clipped voice.
"Jen?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy?"
Her silence feels more honest than her next words. "Yes, Lisa. I'm happy. I've never been happier in my life."
"I'm glad. I needed to hear that. Let me know when you decide where you're going next. Maybe we can meet up again."
"Sure."
"Bye, Jen."
"Bye," she whispers.
I stare at my phone screen for several seconds before tossing it aside and pulling on a T-shirt. Plunking onto the edge of the bed, my head drops and my eyes close on a deep exhale. Marrying Jennie wasn't supposed to be anything more than the gift of insurance and cheap flights.
Doing the right thing for the right reason.
Yet here I am … sulking in a hotel room in Australia because I have a wife who is not Rosé. A wife whose happiness is not my responsibility.
I really, really need to stop thinking the word "wife" when thinking about Jennie.
Different kind of wife.
Different emotions.
Different mentality.
..
..
..
