Chapter 3

She beckoned to me. Motioning for me to lie down next to her. With her arm around me she comforted my soul, “It’s alright. We had fun. Feeling better after your shower?”

I couldn’t bring myself to put my thoughts into words.

“I don’t think you know this about me,” she started, “but I’m conflicted sometimes. I love you and I love being with you. But as a lady, it doesn’t feel right to enjoy the messiness of it. I’m embarrassed by the towel I need to sop up the leftovers after we’re done. I hate that I like the taste of your, you know, when you want me to kiss you there.”

I stared at the ceiling, listening but not responding or interrupting. She might as well have been describing my own conflict.

“But this last week, sitting at my desk crafting stories for hours on end. It’s freed me to embrace things.” It was odd to hear her say this since I’d been freed too.

“When my mind is engrossed in a story it’s like it’s not me doing those nasty things. I stop worrying about what you’ll think of me.”

I wanted to scream, “Me too.” But, like her, I worried about what she would think of me. If I stayed hidden behind the ‘romantic’ stories there was an excuse for my actions.

I started to speak, to confess how much like her I felt. But my words caught in my throat.

Debbie leaned over, picking up her phone and typing a short message.

When my phone chimed I picked it up and read, “Catherine had been abandoned by the constable, no longer under his protection. Who now could stop Heathcliff from leaving his mess in unspeakable places?”

I typed back, “Heathcliff had succumbed to his darker daemons. When the constable’s deputy finally arrived it was too late, but…”

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