Ally and I have been best friends for years, certainly since our freshman year in college. After graduation, we both took jobs in Charleston, South Carolina, and moved into a downtown flat overlooking the harbor. She became a nurse and works for one of the hospitals in town. I became an editor and now work for a small, hometown publishing company that is steadily making its name known across the region.
Anyway, my roommate Ally was driving me crazy. By that, I mean that I was madly in love with her and desired her with every fiber of my being. I don't even know when or even how it happened. Like I said, we'd been best friends since college and we graduated only last year...so about five years or a little longer. I didn't like girls in that way. I never have. She didn't...well at least as far as I knew. We've never discussed such matters. As far as sex and relationships go, we've only ever talked about our respective boyfriends, hers more than mine. I'm not a serial dater like she is. I hardly ever date, to tell the truth. My mother always tells her friends that I'm picky. I'm not picky...well ok...maybe a little. I just want someone to move me on the deepest level, and to actually want me for me, for who I am and not someone they imagine me to be... if that even makes sense.
I say that because my last three boyfriends, mistakes as I now call them, wanted me to be someone that I wasn't. Tom wanted me to be the traditional kind of girl...you know the classic girl that every mother wants her son to marry and to raise a family with. The whole housewife thing. That's not me. I'm a career girl, and I'm far too independent for such a life. John wanted a party girl, meaning a girl who enjoyed only long nights of partying and mixing it up with friends, and by friends I mean his friends. They were people I didn't even like. In addition, I'm not that sociable. I'm an introvert who reads books for a living. Paul...well I'm not sure I ever knew exactly what he really wanted. He sure as hell didn't know either. He was more of the drifter type and loved life as such, meaning that he went through life without a plan or goals for himself, just wherever the currents of everyday events took him. It was all fine with him. Not me. I love my plans. I love structure.
After these three mistakes, I quit dating. I tried the online options, per Ally's relentless prodding. However, nothing ever came of it. None of the profiles peeked my interests. After that, even Ally began with the picky mantra too, much to my mother's delight. And yet, I ended up falling in love with her, regardless of this annoying turn. Like I said, I'd never felt this way about other girls, women I should say now that I'm old enough to not call females withing my age bracket girls anymore. I'd never been attracted to them, and yet this feeling grew over time. I didn't even realize it, or even sense it...not till recently anyway.
A few months ago, I began to think about Ally more and more, and not in a way that I expected either. I began to think of her carnally. I began to fantasize about seeing her naked, about touching her, kissing her, tasting her...hell in my mind I began to live a life that would heat up the pages of an erotic novel, if it'd been written down and published. Who knows, I might do that at some point. I began to dream of her too. Up and until a week ago, I was so in love and in heat that I had problems hiding it from her. She'd sensed my turmoil in spite of these efforts and frequently asked if I was ok. She knew something was bothering me. I'd grown distant, cold even. We used to hug a lot and to cuddle while watching television. We'd even lie together in bed, talking about our day and our problems. I'd pulled away from even that and I knew I was worrying her to no end. I suspected that she probably thought that I didn't want to be her friend anymore.
I was in hell. I simply feared that I'd do or say something that would betray my true feelings and she'd hate me. I feared losing her. I feared losing our friendship, and yet...I was sabotaging the very thing I was trying to secure with my actions. I just couldn't bring myself to confess my love. I knew it was the only way. It was the right way. I just didn't have the courage. Besides, by then she'd met Bryan and had falling in love. I didn't believe it at first, for she'd always been the serial dater, as I mentioned. She's never let a guy get close. To me, it had always seemed like she feared commitment, and I'd long assumed it had to do with the fact that her parents divorced when she was about ten. From what she'd said, he'd left them for another woman, a woman he'd known for years and had fallen in love with. He ultimately married her and eventually started a new family with her. I knew I could have been wrong and apparently I was. Her relationship with Bryan appeared to be genuine and quite stable.
Anyway, I'd used that assumption about her as just another excuse. I told myself she wouldn't date me for that very reason, fearing that I'd end up hurting her too by leaving, by settling with another at some point.
This brings me to last night when everything changed. Her world fell apart and I found my courage in her pain.
I'd chosen to work from home yesterday. I had several manuscripts that I had to read through before beginning my editing process. The founding partners had chosen three that they were interested in, all written by people here in South Carolina. It was about five that evening when I finished up reading the through the first two, for they'd been thankfully short, only about three hundred pages a piece. I'm a fast reader. I had to learn to be. I was going to rest before picking up the last one. I'd just boiled the water for my tea when Ally came bursting through the door, looking distressed and crying her eyes out. I sat aside my tea and opened my arms as she fell into me and began sobbing.
"What happened?"
"I found Bryan in bed with his ex-girlfriend." She managed to say.
"Oh, baby." I whispered as I tightened my grip around her and began messaging her back.
My heart was racing at this point. My instinct was to pull away, to not allow myself to get this close. I knew I risked doing something bold. Her pain was fueling my desire for her. I wanted to comfort her and yet doing so would cause me pain too, pain of unrequited love and lust. I wanted her so badly, but she was so vulnerable at that moment... I simply couldn't risk it. I didn't dare to. That is what I remember telling myself at that moment.
"Grace." She whispered as I leaned back and looked at her tear-stained face. I brushed her blond hair back and kissed her face, tasting the saltiness of each tear.
"He wasn't the right one." I told her. "He's not worthy of your beautiful tears." I croaked, fighting back my own.
"You're trembling." She said.
"I know." I whispered.
"I shouldn't have allowed him..."
"He wasn't the right one." I repeated.
"Who is?" She whispered before unleashing more tears.
"I am." I said it before I even realized that the words had formed and had passed my lips.
"Grace?" She looked hard at me through her tears, clearly confused.
Scared, I knew I'd done what I had long feared I'd do. I'd said something I shouldn't have said and now there was no taking it back. She looked at me with searching eyes and I knew she'd pressure me till I explained what I'd meant by saying those words.
"What do you mean?"
She didn't pull away from me. That much was a good sign. At least that was what I told myself. "Grace, talk to me." She all but pleaded.
"I love you." I whispered. "I'm in love with you."
"How..." She began but I didn't let her finish. I kissed her. I kissed her hard, which I knew shocked us both.
