Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
KAT
Sarah has always been my weakness.
I knew it the moment I saw her across the club last night, but I should have known it before then, should have known it when she was the one person I never let myself think about too much. When I moved back to Chicago, I told myself I was returning for the city, for the familiarity of home. But if I’m really honest, a small part of me had wondered if I’d ever see her again.
Now she’s here, sitting across from me in this little coffee shop, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, looking just as beautiful as she did twenty years ago. More, even. She still has that natural grace and kindness in her eyes, but now the years of experience and life have given her a complexity that makes me want to unravel every thought behind those eyes.
She taps her nails on the side of her coffee mug, clearly nervous and lost in her thoughts.
I’m not sure what I expected when I agreed to meet her, but I told myself I had to be careful. Keep things clear. I need to keep my boundaries firm, because if I let her in again only to lose her, I don’t know if I could take it.
“So,” she says with a small, tentative smile. “I feel like I should be asking you a million questions, but I don’t even know where to start.”
I return her smile and take a sip of my coffee. “Start anywhere. Anything you want to know.”
She nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay… What have you been up to all these years? I know you said last night that you traveled a lot, but where did you go?”
I settle back in my chair, letting the familiarity between us take the edge off my nerves. “Everywhere, really. As you know, I went to Washington first, not far from Seattle.” Her lips turn up in a sad smile, because the statement is heavy with what’s unsaid. You could have gone with me . I rattle off a few more states. “I did a lot of freelance work. Lived out of a suitcase for a long time. It was exciting, but after a while, I wanted something a little more stable.” I pause, running my fingers along the rim of my mug. “And, well, I just got out of a relationship a few months ago, so it felt like the right time to come home.”
Sarah’s expression softens. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
I shrug. “It was for the best. Chicago still feels like home, even after all these years.”
She smiles at that, and I wonder if she feels even a fraction of what I’m feeling—this odd pull between the past and the present, between distance and closeness. Between knowing I should be careful and wanting to throw caution to the wind.
Sarah inhales in a way that shows me she’s about to admit something, and I know whatever she’s about to say next is the real reason she asked me to meet her.
“I, uh, wanted to be honest with you about something,” she says. “Quentin and I talked after our night at the club. About you.”
I raise my eyebrows and wonder where the hell this is going to lead. “Oh?” I prompt.
“I told him about our past—about you and me. And I admitted I might still have some unresolved feelings about you. Obviously, I’m not going to assume you still have any feelings like that for me, but—”
I cut her off. “I do.”
Her eyes widen at the straightforward admission, but it’s true. I wasn’t going to tell her that considering she’s married, and I don’t want to make any waves, but if she can admit it, so can I.
“Well, in that case… Quentin and I talked about it a lot, and he said he’d be okay with me exploring things with you if that’s what I wanted to do.”
I blink. A slow, measured inhale is the only thing that keeps me from immediately reacting.
Of course. Of course, this is what’s happening. Married couples do this all the time—find a bisexual woman to toy with, to experiment with before ultimately going back to their regular, monogamous lives. I’ve seen it before. I’ve been in it before. And every time, it’s ended with me being the one left standing in the aftermath, wondering if I was ever more than just a thrill, just a phase to get out of their systems.
But Sarah wouldn’t do that, right?
She isn’t like them. She knows how much she meant to me—how much she still means to me, even now. However, it’s also been a long time since we’ve been together. How much has changed over the last twenty years?
I don’t know if I can risk the heartbreak of losing her a second time, but I also don’t know if I can give up the opportunity to have her in my arms again, even if it’s only temporary.
I run my thumb over the handle of my cup, staring down into my coffee. She’s watching me, waiting for my reaction, and I’m not sure what to say.
“Well,” I start. “That’s… unexpected.”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “Tell me about it. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
I should walk away. I should tell her that this isn’t a good idea, that I’ve had enough of being someone’s temporary fantasy, someone’s brief exploration before reality pulls them back to where they feel most comfortable.
But I don’t.
Because this is Sarah. And no matter how much I try to pretend otherwise, she’s always been different.
“So… what does that mean?” I ask, keeping my voice even. “For you, I mean.”
She presses her lips together as she gathers her thoughts. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers yet. I just know that seeing you again brought back so many feelings and memories. Ones I haven’t let myself think about in a long time.”
I want to believe that this is real, that I’m not just an idea she’s entertaining for a little while before she decides she’s had enough. But experience has taught me to be careful, and I’m not sure she even knows what she wants. It’s likely this won’t be a long-term thing for her, and I need to decide if I’m okay with that.
“I feel the same way, but I need you to be honest with me. Is this just curiosity for you? Or is this something more?”
Her eyes flick to mine, and they show me just how conflicted she is. “It’s not just curiosity.” She swallows hard. “I think maybe it’s always been there. I just never let myself think about it too much. Life happened, with marriage and work and kids, and I pushed everything else to the back of my mind.” She exhales shakily. “But I can’t ignore it anymore.”
Something tightens in my chest. I wasn’t expecting her to be this open and vulnerable with me, and a part of me still wants to run. But a bigger part of me—the part that’s been aching for years, wondering “what if”—wants to stay.
I sigh, knowing I need to be honest with her too. “The issue is, I’ve been in situations like this before with married couples. And I’ve always ended up hurt and tossed to the side.”
Pain flashes across her expression, and I instantly regret phrasing it that way, but she needs to know what this means for me.
She nods. “I get that. I don’t want to promise something I can’t follow through on, but I’d never intentionally hurt you after—” the rest of the sentence remains unspoken. After I broke your heart the first time. “I just don’t want to walk away from this without at least trying.”
I study her for a long moment, searching for any sign of hesitation. But all I see is sincerity, and despite my better judgment, hope flutters in my chest. She’s still being vague, but I know it’s not intentional. She’s just as clueless about how this will go as I am.
“Okay,” I say. “We can see where this goes, but let’s take it slow.”
Her eyes are filled with hope as she gives me a wide, genuine smile, and my heart bursts with affection for her. She’s so fucking beautiful.
I know I’m setting myself up for eventual heartbreak, because this certainly can’t last forever, but I can’t deny myself more time with her.
But God help me, I think I just agreed to fall for her all over again.