"XIOMARA," I'M awaken by the gentlest voice against my ear. My entire body freezes, as she brushes my hair away from my face, as I open my eyes, "you're so—" the smile on her face is making my heart thump. There's so much innocence within her eyes, telling me that she wants me—that she wants to love me. But I'm so afraid of allowing her to. Can someone like her fall in love with someone like me? Are her feelings ever going to develop into love?
"Mommy!" Blue screams and I hear his loud footsteps running towards us. He's awake again? I sit up, and rub my eyes with my thumbs. Bethany's still looking at me, almost inspecting me.
My eyes travel to where Blue is standing, and he's sporting bright red sneakers. I stretch my arms, and look around, trying to avoid looking into her eyes. My eyes narrow from the brightness seeping through the windows, and I realize that it's from the sun. It's morning? How long did I sleep!
"You slept so peacefully," she gets up, and picks up Blue. He's dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I wonder where he's going.
"I should—"
"Xo, Xo. Breakfast?" A yawn escapes my lips, and I place my hand over my mouth.
"I promised to take him to IHOP for breakfast," Bethany says. He smiles widely.
"Come wis us?" He manages to make me gush over him even when I'm half awake. I nod and he claps his hands, "Mommy get dress now."
She tilts her head to the side, and looks at him for a few moments. Maybe she's appreciating how he makes her life great, or she's reflecting on the unusualness of his behavior. Does Blue behave differently when he's around me? Do I make him laugh more, smile more? Do I make them both happy?
"Are you going to behave, and watch cartoons in the meantime?" She asks. He nods and she places him onto the couch next to me.
"Xo, Xo, you dress too," he points to the direction of Bethany's room, and I almost blush. I press my lips together, as she gestures her index finger for me to follow her.
"I should head home first. I probably smell like beer," she leads me into her bedroom, and I enter without hesitation. Looking around, I notice that she's even more spotless than me when it comes to tidiness.
"Traffic back to your place will be hectic. Just get ready here. I'll lend you something," she says. Your clothes can't even fit me. I frown, as I tug on the edge of my blouse. Our styles are completely different, and I don't plan to wear a miniskirt!
"Do you have anything for a trying to grow old gracefully lesbian to wear?" I ask.
She giggles and rests her hand against my shoulder blade, sending warmth to rush through my entire body, "I do have a closet filled with anything you might need. Wanna take a look?" She walks over to the closet's door, and opens it. My eyes nearly bulge out when I take a peek inside. Does one really need over a hundred pairs of shoes?
"Fuck," I mutter, as I step inside. It's even more tidy in here.
"I turned the third bedroom into my own closet," she walks past me, and starts looking through a few dresses on the railing.
"And they allowed you to renovate?" I ask. I press my lips together, and stuff my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.
"It's a condo, so I can—"
"How did you afford—" I stop myself from saying another word, and she looks at me carefully. Why's she looking at me in such an analyzing way this morning?
"When I said I'm working to put food on the table, it's a hyperbole, babe," babe? I feel an intense blush flush my entire body. Oh my frickin' god, she called me babe! It makes me grin, and almost forget what we're talking about. I know that I look like a moron, but I can't help myself. She furrows her brows, probably wondering what's the matter with me.
"Hyperbole?" I ponder, as though I don't know what it means. I'm trying to cover up my reaction, but I'm getting weirder by the minute.
"Exaggeration," she explains briefly, "I work hard enough to give Blue the life that he deserves—what we both deserve," how she's speaking worries me. I don't know much about her, at least not anything really personal.
"Found anything for me to wear, babe?" I try to lighten the conversation, and I notice the immediate blush on her face. Aw, she's so cute.
"Uh, um," she stumbles for words, and I find it so amusing and sexy, "are you hitting on me?" I walk closer and shrug.
"Does it look like I'm hitting on you?" I ask. She doesn't step back, but stretches her hand out, and places her palm against my chest.
"Easy there, tiger. Blue can walk in at any moment," she's careful and I like that. Also, she didn't necessarily reject my advances. It makes my brain begin to scramble like scrabble tiles.
"I'm sorry," I'm considering my actions, wondering how easy it is to be tempted by her. Something so simple can make me want to kiss her so lovingly on her luscious lips. Do I have any self-control anymore? I haven't tested the theory in a very long time. I haven't needed to. When you turn a certain age, there's no time for beating around the bush. You get to the point. If you want sex, you go for it. If you have feelings, you say something about it. That's what I've always done—been straightforward and to the point. But not now. Instead, I wobble around like an infant on broken limbs, with a bunch of piled up feelings, and a major crush on someone so forbidden.
She's not forbidden, Xiomara. She's not underage. She isn't married. She doesn't have a girlfriend or boyfriend. She's perfectly safe to be with. Why are you holding back?
"I'll go shower. You can look for something in the meantime," she says. I simply nod, as she leaves the closet. She's probably confused with my disappearance from the real world. I'm lost—lost in my mind, trying to conjure up what I should do, and what I shouldn't.
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Love Finds A Way
العاطفيةXiomara isn't having the best luck with dating. When it comes to her priorities, her life as a mother of four and a striving film director seems to be enough. She's put the idea of settling down once more at the back of her mind. But when her daugh...
