Finding my way home

by sombaf

I close the door and lean against it for a moment before shaking my head and climbing the stairs to my bathroom to enjoy that well-deserved and long-awaited bath. As I sip my glass of red wine, my thoughts wander back to Jane. Again, there are these feelings that I simply can't name and this almost irresistible urge to do something. But what? For what? Against what? Why?

9. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII

(Maura)

The days are dreary. It's September, and summer is capitulating to the oncoming autumn. Rain and gusty winds have dominated the past two weeks, and my mood perfectly matches the weather. I've cried, cursed her, and longed for her all at once.

Since that evening at the end of August, when I let myself go under Jane's influence again, we haven't seen each other. I continued to run in the park every morning, but Jane never showed up or contacted me in any way. Initially, I hoped to run into her after a few days, receive a message, a call—anything. But there was nothing.

Absolutely. Nothing.

A few times, I wanted to write her a message but ended up deleting it each time before sending it. What could I say when I didn't even know what I was feeling and thinking? There's nothing to clarify; she doesn't owe me any explanation. Yes, we had sex twice, and probably—obviously—it meant more to me than to her, but still. We don't have a relationship or any bond that obligates her to me in any way. We're just friends, or maybe not even that anymore. I have nothing to blame her for, except maybe the way she left.

The beep of my phone jolts me out of my thoughts, and I spill a few drops of the fine Sassicaia wine. Annoyed, I clean the glass and the kitchen counter before reaching for my phone.

Hello Maura. Sorry for not getting in touch for so long. How are you? Jane

At first, I want to delete the message. I'm both angry and perplexed. The message doesn't sound like Jane at all, way too formal.

I set the phone aside and go back to the documentary on NASA's recorded audio clips from space and the resulting findings about the Big Bang. Despite my love for astrophysics, I can't concentrate for even two seconds, staring alternately at my TV screen and my phone screen.

Annoyed, I push the iPhone lying on the side table far away with my foot and try to focus again on the buzzing sound that is supposed to mark the beginning of our universe billions of years ago. Once again, I'm relatively unsuccessful.

Resolutely, I grab the culprit and type my brief response.

Hello Jane. I'm doing well. Maura

I'm glad to hear that, Maura. Do you have time this weekend? I'd like to meet up. Jane

Do I have time this weekend? Of course I have time. But do I want to? What does she want to talk about? Should I even engage in this conversation? Probably, because these nagging doubts will likely plague me for a long time without a clarifying talk.

Yes. Saturday around noon would work, say 2:00 PM. Meeting place? Maura

Okay, that works. How about that little Italian place I told you about? Jane

Yes, that works. See you then. Maura

I hate not knowing what's coming. She was so vague that I really have no idea which direction this conversation will go. Does she want to end our friendship and never see me again? Or will she apologize and ask for forgiveness? Will she finally reveal her feelings to me? Will she tell me about Casey?

Desperately, I call JayJay and ask for some tips. I'm totally clueless in such situations and don't want to make a bigger fool of myself than I already have. JayJay has always been a reliable source for advice on appropriate behaviors in any imaginable social situation, even during our relationship.

xxx

Saturday approaches relentlessly, and I find myself in front of the large mirror in my dressing room, in the fifth outfit that, in my eyes, fits just as poorly as the four before it.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Maura." Sometimes you have to talk to yourself to get professional advice.

I decide to stick with the gray pencil skirt and dark blue blouse, before slipping into my black Manolo Blahniks and putting on the simple black cashmere trench coat from Burberry that I love so much. One should feel comfortable in such fateful conversations. Studies show that body language is significantly influenced by one's sense of self and self-worth. Those who feel comfortable in their own skin communicate differently and appear much more relaxed, convincing, and confident.

The drive to the restaurant took less time than I had hoped. I feel completely unprepared and notice the panic rising in me.

"Maura...?"

She looks incredible. The tight blue jeans and equally tight salmon-colored T-shirt perfectly highlight her feminine curves and make her complexion appear even darker. She's wearing subtle makeup for the first time since I've known her, and I can't help but wonder if she dressed up a bit for me.

She clears her throat, and I realize I've probably been staring at her for too long. The situation is somehow awkward, and an uncomfortable silence ensues.

"Shall we go inside?"

I nod and then follow her wordlessly to a table in the farthest corner of the restaurant, which she had obviously reserved in advance.

We sit down, order our drinks, and fall into silence again. Before I can get further lost in my doubts, I follow JayJay's advice and take the initiative.

"So, you wanted to talk. About what, Jane?"

I can hear the anger and disappointment in my voice and close my eyes for a moment. I'm annoyed with myself, having promised to attend this conversation as detachedly as possible and to listen to Jane first before even thinking about revealing my feelings and thoughts.

"I...well...um...we...you know...," she runs her hand through her hair and sighs in frustration.

"You should speak in complete sentences, Jane."

I can't resist the remark and earn an irritated look from Jane before her lips curl into a smile.

"I'm sorry, Maura."

I look at her and remain silent. If this is going to be a conversation, she needs to give me more.

"I'm in a bit of a difficult situation, Maura. I don't really know what's going on with me right now. I'm married..."

I remain silent.

She looks down at the table, rubbing the scars on her hands, of which I only know what I've read in the newspapers. We've never talked about it. I wonder what I really know about this woman. Have I only imagined knowing her all these months? Maybe she's not the person I believe I know.

"What are you thinking, Maura?"

Her voice is soft, and I look into her dark eyes, whose expression I can't decipher today.

"I don't know, Jane. What should I be thinking?"

Yes, I'm defensive and distant. But the wounds on my soul are still too fresh.

"Maura...please..."

There's desperation in her voice.

"I really like you, Maura. I don't want to lose you."

So, she doesn't want to never see me again. For a brief moment, hope flares within me.

"What do you suggest, Jane?"

She sighs and hesitantly runs her hand through her dark mane. Unconsciously, I hold my breath as she struggles to find the right words and somehow can't quite manage to do so. After what seems like endless seconds, she finally seems to have organized her thoughts enough to verbalize them in somewhat coherent sentences.

"I know I've hurt you, Maura. I'm sorry for leaving you like that. Twice."

I nod silently and wait again. There has to be more.

"Can we maybe forget what happened between us? I mean...everything? Can we just be friends?"

For a brief moment, I consider the content and extent of her request. Can I do that?

"If you need some time, Maura, I understand."

Again, she looks down. Again, that uncertainty, that desperation, it's my downfall.

"I really don't want to lose you, Maura."

I search her eyes. What exactly I am looking for, I don't know. I stare into those seemingly dull pools for seconds. My brain shuts down while my emotions go haywire again. How I would love to pull her into my arms and kiss her right now.

"Maura? Can you please say something?"

By now, she's biting her lower lip while massaging the already red scars on her hands and can't hold my gaze any longer.

"I don't want to lose you either, Jane."

Even though I'm totally confused and clueless about my feelings and intentions, I know one thing for sure: I don't want to lose Jane.

If I can at least keep her as a good friend in my life, I'll make that compromise. Our only chance of having a healthy relationship will be on a platonic level. Anything else obviously has no future and only causes us both grief and pain.

She smiles and takes my hand.

"Thank you, Maura."

Then we lapse into a more or less forced casual conversation. We both walk on eggshells. It's not like before, not as carefree, not as easy. We no longer flirt, we barely look each other in the eyes. The laughter is forced, the topics trivial. But I hope this weird feeling will pass with time, and we can fall back into that simple routine we had developed over the past seven months.

Jane pays the bill over my strong protests, and we leave the restaurant shortly afterward in good spirits.

"So..."

Again, that uncomfortable silence. Jane tilts her head slightly to the side and looks at me closely. I feel my legs weaken under her gaze and smile at her hesitantly.

"Well then...," how ridiculous two words can sound when spoken out of embarrassment.

"Shall we see each other for a jog tomorrow?"

Her question throws me off for a moment before I nod silently once again.

We look each other directly in the eyes, for the first time since we agreed to forget everything. Since then, we had avoided holding the other's gaze too long or too intensely. The fear of falling back into that old, flirtatious pattern was probably too great.

And yet, we can't resist.

Seconds pass. Her eyes are a deep brown today, darker than usual, dull and bright at the same time. I can see that cheerful, playful part beside the ever-present veil of sadness, the sparkle in her eyes.

Suddenly, her gaze wanders to my lips, and I feel heat rise to my face. She comes closer, almost painfully slowly.

The touch of her lips on mine is gentle, almost longing. I close my eyes and take a step closer to her, prompting her to loosely wrap her arms around my waist.

After a short while, she breaks the contact, and our foreheads rest against each other.

"What are you doing to me, Maura?"

It's just a whisper, as desperate as it is happy.

Before I can respond, she completely pulls away, kisses me on the forehead, and bids a hasty "See you tomorrow morning."

I don't know how long I stood there, perplexed, fingers on my swollen lips.

xxx

"Excuse me?"

JayJay looks at me in astonishment.

"She wants you to forget everything and just be 'friends'?"

I see her incredulous look and laugh while nodding.

"Maura...do you really want that?"

Her voice is serious, and I feel the empathy that wraps me in a gentle sense of security.

"Yes, that's okay with me. I don't think we have a future together other than as friends."

I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince her or myself with this, and I only get a raised eyebrow and a drawn-out "Oookay" from JayJay.

"Let's watch a movie, shall we?"

Changing the subject has always been my strength, and JayJay knows me too well not to realize it. To my relief, she doesn't ask further. I'd rather keep the part about the kiss to myself.

"You're deflecting, but it's okay. Can we find a new hotel first? My current one has a water damage, and I need to move out."

"Do you want to stay with me until you find your own place? There's plenty of space for both of us."

Without even thinking for a moment, I offer JayJay a room in my house. Since when have I been so spontaneous? Why did I do that? It's too late to think about it now, but after all, we've already lived together for a few months. Back then. And I feel lonely in this much too big house.

"Well...are you sure? I wouldn't say no. But I don't want to impose on you...?"

"Yes, I'm sure, and you're not imposing, I asked you."

I smile, and we toast to our new living arrangement before discussing when to pick up JayJay's things from the hotel and I show her all the available rooms in my house, letting her choose one.

xxx

"JayJay is moving in with you?"

The raised eyebrows, the slightly tilted head, and the left eye squinted into a narrow slit leave no doubt: Jane doesn't like the idea.

I nod, not elaborating further, and let the silence reign in its full glory. I leave Jane to her thoughts and give her the opportunity to verbalize them.

Actually, it's none of Jane's business who lives with me, and yet I felt the urge to tell her the morning after my conversation with JayJay about our plans. Although I didn't expect her to be overjoyed, I didn't expect her to show her disapproval so obviously—albeit non-verbally.

We run without another word and part ways somewhat more distant than usual. Maybe it's due to the JayJay news, or maybe it's because of our peculiar meeting the day before. After all, you don't decide every day to remain just friends after having sex twice and then kiss each other goodbye.

xxx

It's 10:36 PM, and I'm still at the office. The day was stressful, and I've just finished writing the final report on a tragic case of murder-suicide. A mother killed her 3-year-old daughter, then her husband, and finally herself. The motives of the crime are unknown to me, and in cases like these, I have to distance myself to ensure an objective consideration of the facts.

I sign the three autopsy reports and pack up my things.

It's Thursday, five days after I told Jane about JayJay's move-in, which happened today. Not once did Jane make a negative comment. Even though I mentioned it to her again this morning and expressed my uncertainty about whether living together would work out, she didn't show her feelings. She was distantly friendly and kept her remarks as neutral as possible.

I just can't figure her out. I actually thought she liked JayJay. And after her declaration that we should forget everything and just be friends, there's obviously no reason for jealousy. Is she just afraid I'll replace her with JayJay? Why is she so distant? Or maybe it has nothing to do with JayJay moving in with me and is just her way of setting clear boundaries and making it abundantly clear that we're "just" friends?

The whole situation is starting to wear on my nerves. I like Jane, and our friendship is important to me, but at the moment, I'm not sure if we'll ever regain that refreshing ease in our interactions. Right now, it's tedious and tiresome; we can hardly find topics to talk about, often lapsing into awkward, uncomfortable silence, and parting ways as if we're both relieved to be away from each other. It's exhausting and nerve-wracking.

We have to fix this somehow, and I suspect we won't be able to avoid a clarifying conversation.

I seize the moment and grab my phone before my resolve fades.

Hi Jane. I can't go running tomorrow; it's been a long day, and I need some sleep. Do you want to do something over the weekend? M