JENNIE

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I text Lisa before we fly out of Tel Aviv. When we arrive in London for a short layover, she still hasn't responded. Just as we board the flight to Atlanta, she texts me.

Lisa: Have a safe trip. I won't be home until Saturday. Tell Jisoo I'm sorry to hear about her dad.

That gives me two days at home without her. I might need the time to catch up on sleep, do laundry, spoil Harry Pawter, and get my head in the right space.

An Uber takes me home, and I drag my tired ass into the house. "Harry!" I don't even get the door shut before I pick him up and probably scare him to death with my intense enthusiasm.

He stays by my side over the next two days while I go to town with laundry and cleaning the house from top to bottom. I order groceries since I'm technically not supposed to drive for another month and a half to follow proper seizure protocol, which I know is important to Lisa.

When I hear the back door open, I hold my breath and pause my photo editing from my favorite spot on the sofa. Why am I so nervous?

"Pawter," I hear Lisa say, and it feels so good to hear her voice. Since Malaysia, there have been lots of messages, but we didn't call each other.

Not once.

Not a single video chat either.

The wedge between us has been silent but huge.

For me, I know it would have been too hard to hear her voice and not want to be with her. I'm not sure why she never called or wanted to see my face or hear my voice, but I've told myself it's the same reason for her too.

"Hi." Lisa grins, peeking her head around the corner to the living room.

God … I think she's even sexier than the last time I saw her.

"Hi." I let my grin have a big fat parade all over my face.

"Welcome home."

Home …

Is this my home?

"Thanks. You too."

She chuckles, sauntering into the kitchen to get a beer from the fridge. "I haven't been gone that long. I bet Pawter didn't even recognize you."

"Harry Pawter. And he absolutely recognized me."

Lisa pops the top of her beer bottle and tosses it into the trash, pausing at the kitchen sink. "Did you … clean?"

"Yes. I cleaned everything. Thanks for noticing."

"Jennie, you're not my maid anymore." She makes her way to her bedroom.

"You're letting me live here rent free. I have to earn my keep."

"You're never here," she calls from her bedroom or probably her closet, changing out of her uniform.

Closing my computer, I pad my bare feet along the hardwood floor to her bedroom and lean against the wide wood threshold. "I'm here now. And I'm not sure when Jisoo will be ready to leave again, so I'm going to do my part."

It's been almost five months since I've seen Lisa. I wanted to come home for the anniversary of Chaeng's death, but it wasn't convenient. Honestly, I wasn't sure Lisa want me here for that. Five months feels like five years. My hands itch to touch her. Is she still mine to touch? I'm not sure she ever was mine for more than an hour one afternoon in Malaysia.

Lisa emerges from her closet with a T-shirt in hand instead of covering her chest. My gaze takes liberty. It might be the two glasses of wine I had before she arrived.

"We'll split the cleaning while you're here." Her suggestion drags my focus back to her face. She gives me a gotcha grin as she pulls on her shirt. Snatching her beer bottle from the nightstand, she takes a long swig before making her way to me.

I can't bring myself to move out of her way. When she stands in front of me, maybe waiting for passage, I slide the beer from her hand and take a small sip.

"Anything special you want for your anniversary?" she asks.

I eye her with a little surprise and curiosity. "My anniversary of what?"

She shrugs one shoulder, taking the beer back from me. "Ours."

I try to smile, try to keep the mood light, but it's hard with her standing so close to me. "That's next week."

She nods.

"I have it on good authority that we don't have that kind of marriage. And you're probably due for another appointment with your dental hygienist."

"Dental hygienist?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes. Clearly you don't remember much from our wedding day. Marriage day. Whatever. You said I do, dropped me off at home, and went to the dentist. So I threw the bouquet, took off my own garter, and ate all the cake without you."

Lisa smirks. "Is that so?"

On another eye roll, I turn and head back to the living room. "Yes. That's so."

"What's the time limit?" she asks.

I glance over my shoulder just before reaching the sofa. She finishes her beer and sets the bottle on the counter then makes her way into the living room.

"Time limit on what?" I ask, plopping onto the cushion.

"How long do I have to wait before I can touch you?" She drags her teeth over her lower lip while eyeing me from head to toe. "Because I miss you."

"You miss me?" I whisper, and my skin tingles everywhere. Even my eyes burn with emotion. Holding my breath for five … long … months has been too long.

She nods.

I didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. After five months of nothing resembling anything more than friendship, not one single vibe of intimacy … I had no reason to expect this.

"I'm right here," I say, just above a whisper.

Sliding her hands into her front pockets, Lisa shrugs a shoulder. "Still missing you. Your blue eyes tracking me while those full lips of yours press together as if smiling at me might expose your darkest secrets. Your delicate fingers threading through my hair, slowly, deliberately, like their sole purpose is to drive me mad with need."

I dare any woman not to fall in love with this girl, and at the same time, I forbid myself from falling any deeper. I don't have my life figured out, and she's still dealing with the loss of Chaeng. She doesn't have to say it. I just know because I'm still dealing with the loss of her too.

Dealing with discovering my true path in life.

Dealing with trying to do and be what Chaeng would have wanted me to do and be.

Dealing with my feelings for Lisa that make me want to align my path with her even if that means losing sight of my other dreams.

Still, I can't help it. I smile at Lisa. "I miss you too. All the time. I miss the way you hum when you're cooking a meal or driving your car. I miss the lullaby of your guitar at night. I miss the way you refold the kitchen towels when you think I'm not looking. I miss sitting at opposite ends of the sofa with you, editing photos, knowing your eyes are on me. I miss the most mundane things like grocery shopping with you or pulling weeds while you mow the lawn. I miss your sly grins and carefully thought-out words. I miss watching you tie your hundred-year-old tennis shoes before you go for a run. And I miss…" I pull in a shaky breath, feeling a physical ache for her touch, the tingle of need along my skin growing more intense "…all the parts of you I've wanted, but I know are not mine to want."

"Still missing you," she whispers, taking a step toward me.

"I'm right here."

It's hard to not think about Chaeng, to not feel a ghost of her presence in this house. It was easier in Malaysia. Is Lisa thinking about her? Is Lisa conflicted? Trying to claim the life she still has while keeping Chaeng alive, if only in her mind?

If she touches me, will she close her eyes and think of Chaeng? I'm messed up. I wasn't sure just how messed up until now. Lisa losing her wedding band on the hilltop where we had sex and her reaction to it has left me brimming with self-doubt.

"Shut it off."

I lift my gaze as she kneels on the floor in front of me.

"Your mind." She grins. "Shut it off."

"How?"

"Fill it with other thoughts." She leans forward, resting her hands on my legs while kissing my neck.

My fingertips tease the nape of her neck. "You can't tell me you're not thinking about Chaeng."

Lisa sighs and sits back on her heels, head bowed. "I think about her. I don't think there will ever come a time where I don't think about her. I can't erase her from my mind. I don't want to erase her from my mind." She lifts her gaze to mine. "Remember when I told you that I went to the store and didn't think about her because I was thinking about groceries?"

I nod slowly.

"It's because she's gone. She's not here to be the object of my affection. She's not waiting for me at home. She will never climb into our bed. She will never walk through that backdoor with dirt smudged on her face and a basketful of vegetables. I'll never hear her laugh again. I'll never feel her touch. But I also know she will never be erased from your mind either. And that's why it's different with you. In a way … we were three and now we're two."

I slide my feet between her spread knees, and she grabs my calves, shifting her gaze to my face. "I'm afraid of not knowing where we're going," I say. "I'm afraid that we can't stay on the same path and still be true to our other passions, and that eventually our paths will just stop crossing. So … I guess I need to know where you see us going?"

After a few breaths, she shrugs. "I see us going to the bedroom."

My grin sneaks to the surface without permission. "What will we do in the bedroom?"

Lisa stands on her knees again and unbuttons her jeans. Then she shrugs off her shirt.

My gaze makes the slow journey from her open jeans, along the taut terrain of her abs and chest, to her confident grin. When our gazes lock, she nods toward me.

My grin inflates because the girl I never ever imagined would be with me is gesturing for me to take off my shirt so she can see me.

So she can touch me.

So I can be the object of her affection.

I slide my shirt over my head.

Another gesturing nod from her.

I remove my bra.

Lisa wets her lips, letting her gaze linger on my breasts for a few seconds before dragging it to my face. "Stand up."

It's pathetic how I'm a robot to her every command. I stand, but she doesn't.

Sucking my nipple into her mouth, she works the button and zipper to my jeans. She peels them down my legs along with my panties. Before I can step out of them, she stands and lifts me off the ground in a big bear hug.

"Lisa!" I giggle as she waddles with her jeans at her knees. "Not yours," I say, stopping her from taking me to her bedroom—to their bedroom. "Just … not yet."

She doesn't say a word. Instead, she carries me to my bedroom and sets me on my feet.

I kick off my jeans and panties.

"Do you even know how beautiful you are?" she whispers, pausing my motions, demanding I look at her and hear the sincerity in her words.

Those words wrap around my heart, one chamber at a time, an invisible vapor filling every empty space.

"Lisa …" I take a step into her, pressing my hands flat on her chest and touching my lips to her sternum over her heart.

She gathers my hair and pulls it off my shoulder, kissing along my collarbone, and it makes me shiver, awaking that kaleidoscope of butterflies in my tummy.

"Cold?" She brings her head up to look at me.

I shake my head.

"Your teeth are chattering."

I bite them together and swallow. "I'm nervous."

"It's not our first time." Lisa brushes her knuckles along my cheek.

"It's our first time like this. The other side of the world felt like a cocoon."

"Then let's make a cocoon." She pulls back the covers. "Get in."

She removes the rest of her clothes and slides into bed on one side as I slowly do the same on the other side. My breath catches when she whips the sheet and comforter over our heads.

"Cocoon," she says before she kisses her way down my body.

I can't see much under the covers, but I can feel everything. Her hands cupping my breasts as she settles her chest between my legs.

Her exploring tongue all over my skin … dipping between my legs … In our little cocoon, I get to feel her flesh next to mine.

In our little cocoon, she moves inside of me, lacing our fingers together at my head, bringing our bodies as close as physically possible.

We fall asleep, sated and intertwined. It's ironically symbolic of our relationship. We've become this knot. And I don't know if it makes us stronger or if it simply complicates things … keeping us from being free. I know she doesn't want to hold me back from my dreams, but I feel tethered to her, and it doesn't feel wrong.

Hours later, she wakes me by pulling my body on top of her torso and sliding into me with nothing but a slow groaning of my name. I'm so drunk on her, I can barely open my eyes, so I don't. I rock into her over and over, nothing but the mingling of our labored breaths and a slight rhythmic creak of the bed filling the air. Her hands skate along my body, my back, my breasts, and between my spread legs where she moves inside of me until, once again, we release, collapse, and fall asleep.

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