Chapter 49
Amy
Amalfi
“Amy… I…” A surprised tone from Luisa, apologetic but also accusatory, almost saying what are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to be here?
Amy stood there. Still. Absolutely still. Frozen, like if she didn’t move then none of this was really happening. Like if she moved, it might become real.
But it was, it really was.
The air smelled of sex. There was no other word for it. Sea, sweat, wine, they all combined to add to Amy’s sensory overload.
She saw the wine glasses on the side, the clothes discarded on the floor, most of the sheets with them.
Luisa’s legs still trembling as she closed them, trying to gather herself, trying to cover herself up although, in a weird moment of clarity, Amy wondered why exactly.
There was nothing Amy hadn’t seen before.
And it was too late anyway… Amy had seen everything. The sight of Luisa climaxing hard at the hands of another woman, another model from the look of her, would be seared into Amy’s mind forever.
The other woman’s head lifting, slowly and pleased with herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand like it was nothing.
Luisa’s hands gripping on to the mattress as if it could anchor her.
The look on Luisa’s face… shock, guilt, shame.
The look on the other woman’s face, stunningly beautiful, curiosity, a hint of mild amusement.
All of that would be etched into her memory for eternity.
Amy could feel her pulse racing, her palms cold, her fight or flight instinct not sure which way to go.
But she also felt something else as she got over the initial shock… jealousy, relief, and curiosity.
Jealousy, well, that was obvious really.
Relief, because she now knew that she hadn’t been the only one taking advantage of the open part of their relationship, and she instinctively knew in that moment that her and Luisa could have an open and honest conversation about it after seeing this, already seeing that there was opportunity here for them to come out of it stronger.
Curiosity, because she’d wondered often what Luisa would look like with another woman and it turned out the answer was very, very incredibly hot.
Not how she’d wanted to find that out, Luisa writhing in pleasure as she gave herself to someone else so completely, not remotely, and far from the dominant emotion, but it was there lurking in the background.
Amy took a breath. Slow, she told herself, trying to calm the adrenaline.
She didn’t feel anger, why would she? This was what an open relationship was.
But as her mind calmed she took herself to her work persona, the one saved for boardrooms, the one that said I’m in control.
Because she knew that what was said in that moment could have huge repercussions, the risk of a misunderstanding huge.
“I’ll be in town for a few days.” Said calmly, and clearly. Not coldly, but not with much warmth either. Amy didn’t know the dynamic between Luisa and this model, and didn’t want to be presumptuous about how she compared. For all she knew Luisa had told her that she loved her too.
Luisa’s eyes widened. “Amy… I didn’t… it’s not…” She was scrambling off the bed, trying to come over to Amy but torn between that and pulling some clothes on first.
Amy stopped her. “Don’t. I understand.” She paused. “When you want to talk, call me.”
She turned and opened the door, handle of her bag in her hand. Turning back to look at Luisa, she said, “Take as long as you need,” then she let the door close behind her as she walked off fast down the corridor.
***
As she walked she heard Luisa’s voice call, “Amy, wait…” through the door, but she didn’t stop and when she got to the lifts one came quickly.
The doors slid shut and she was alone for a few moments. Her reflection stared back at her in the lift’s mirror, serious, tired, pale. She looked like she’d just had a shock, and she had.
The anger came then, just briefly, a moment of rage that Luisa had gone to bed with another woman little more than twenty-four hours after they’d parted, but she pushed it down, knew it was hypocrisy.
“You did the same with Sarah,” she whispered to her reflection, and she realised, properly realised for the first time, the implications of their open relationship, what it meant.
It meant not being able to surprise Luisa with a romantic gesture, in case Luisa was with someone else.
It meant evenings alone, five thousand miles apart, wondering if she was missing Amy as much as Amy was missing her, or if she was happy in someone else’s bed for the night.
It meant a part of each of them saved for others, not for each other.
As she walked through the lobby, bag still in hand, the same receptionist looked at her with a question on his face. She stopped and went over.
“Turns out she already had what I’d brought,” Amy said with a grimace.
He shook his head. “Models are the worst. Do you need anything?”
“Another hotel.” Amy smiled. “My budget doesn’t stretch to here, but somewhere nice still.”
“I know the perfect place. Let me make a call for you.”
A few minutes later, armed with a reservation at a small hotel in the centre of town, Amy walked out into the warm evening and set off down the road.
She knew where she wanted this to go, what her and Luisa needed to do. But did Luisa? And would Luisa come to her quickly or stay with the other woman? That would speak volumes.
The ball was in Luisa’s court now.