The Writer's Heart

15

MARILYN LEANED against the kitchen counter, waiting on Jessie to come out of her bedroom. She'd already fed the cats, and they were curled up on the couch fast asleep. When Jessie entered the kitchen, Marilyn felt her blood rushing.

"You can take a shower. There's extra towels in the linen closet, and I can get you a set of pajamas," Jessie said.

The only bathroom in the apartment was attached to Jessie's room. Marilyn nodded and Jessie followed her in, "are you going to join me?" Marilyn meant it as a joke, but Jessie's red cheeks thought otherwise.

"I... I'll..." Jessie left the bathroom in a rush, and headed into the kitchen. She sat down on a kitchen stool, and buried her face in the palm of her hands. Get yourself together. She decided to busy herself with unpacking her luggage. After throwing all of the clothing onto the floor, and sorting out the whites and colors, she tossed the whites into the washing machine first, and leaned against the dryer.

Looking at the laundry spin, her thoughts drifted off to Lily. Jessie smiled and took a deep breath. There wasn't a thing that she wouldn't have done just to be able to spend a little bit of time with her, "Jess?" Marilyn stood by the door with only her towel wrapped around her body.

"Uh. Yeah?" Jessie's focus was lost for a bit. She cleared her throat, and directed her eyes solely on Marilyn's face.

"Is it really a good idea for me to stay over?" Marilyn asked. The question caught Jessie off guard. What was she supposed to say? Of course, it was a bad idea. The two of them in one room was bad enough, and to sleep under the same roof was even worse. Not that any of the two wanted to admit it, but the sexual tension was there. They both lusted over the other, but would they take that step towards intimacy? Surely, Jessie wouldn't, since she still thought that Marilyn was devoted to her marriage. As for Marilyn, her fears made her keep their relationship at a friendly level. It wasn't a secret that they were both afraid to love.

"I don't know, honestly," Jessie wanted to be honest. She wanted to stop avoiding the subject. Maybe honesty would help settle the thoughts that spiraled in her head. And maybe, it would take some of the weight off of both of their shoulders, "it's hard to be alone with you, especially since you're only in a frickin' towel," Jessie dropped her eyes to the floor, and sucked in a breath. Honesty better be a good idea.

"I get it," Marilyn fastened the towel, and walked into the room. She hopped onto the dryer, which might have been a bad idea, since her towel nearly slipped off.

"Was that on purpose?" Jessie asked with the quirk of her brow.

Marilyn shook her head hastily, as she fixed herself in a seated position, "I wouldn't tempt you like that."

Jessie swallowed. Temptation. What was temptation? Temptation could be considered a sin—a desire that threatened a long term possibility. If they gave into temptation, would they ruin their chances of being something real? Would potential love become mere infatuation? What was love? Love could be defined as so many things to so many people. Everyone had a different definition for love. Which ones were right? Which ones were wrong? Was there a wrong definition?

Jessie had never been in love. She'd loved in so many other ways. She'd loved her parents, her sisters, and Lily. She'd loved her cats, her writing, and herself. But never had she fallen in love.

"I wish you could," Jessie was surprised by her own confession. Why did her honesty have to cause so much hesitation? She couldn't be with Marilyn. She couldn't give Marilyn anything more than a few happy hours under the bed sheets. Jessie knew that she wasn't capable of giving anyone anything more than a good time, but maybe, she just wouldn't. Could she give herself to someone—be vulnerable? Could she love someone selflessly and unconditionally?