23. Curiosity
Chapter twenty-three
Curiosity
Miko and Meca didn’t end their relationship with an argument.
There was no betrayal, dramatic confrontation, or final moment when one woman slammed a door and told the other never to return.
They simply began spending less time together.
At first, neither of them noticed.
Miko’s new job required more of her attention than she expected. She arrived early, stayed late when necessary, and focused on proving that her past did not determine the quality of her work. After everything she had lost, rebuilding her professional life felt personal.
Meca was busy too. Her responsibilities at work increased, and she began spending more time with family and friends. She no longer canceled plans simply because Miko called, and Miko no longer expected her to.
Their nightly conversations became weekly calls.
Weekly calls became occasional messages.
Neither woman intentionally created the distance.
Life simply began filling the spaces they once occupied for each other.
One evening, Miko sat in her apartment looking through old messages. She found the first conversation she and Meca had shared after their relationship began changing.
Meca: You make it home?
Miko: Yes.
Meca: Good.
Miko: You checking on me?
Meca: Somebody has to.
Miko smiled.
At the time, she hadn’t understood how important those small moments would become. Meca had entered her life quietly. There had been no plan and no expectation that their connection would grow beyond the workplace.
It began with curiosity.
Then curiosity became comfort.
Comfort became attachment.
And somewhere along the way, attachment became love.
Miko placed the phone beside her.
She still loved Meca.
But she was beginning to understand that loving someone did not always mean the relationship was supposed to continue forever.
Sometimes love entered your life to reveal something about you.
Meca had taught Miko that her heart was capable of holding feelings she had never expected. She taught her that honesty did not require a perfect explanation and that attraction could not always be organized into categories that made other people comfortable.
Most importantly, Meca taught her that no one should be asked to wait forever while someone else decided whether they were worthy of being chosen.
Miko had learned that lesson too late to protect their first relationship.
By the time they tried again, both women had changed.
Miko had become more independent.
Meca had learned to protect her peace.
Neither woman was wrong.
They were simply moving in different directions.
Several weeks passed before Meca called.
“Hey,” she said.
Miko smiled when she heard her voice. “Hey.”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Sitting here.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am.”
“You working too hard?”
“Probably.”
Meca laughed softly. “Some things don’t change.”
“No. Some things definitely do.”
The line became quiet.
Meca took a breath. “Can we talk?”
Miko already knew what she meant.
“Yes.”
“Not over the phone.”
“Where?”
“Our coffee shop?”
Miko smiled. “It’s not our coffee shop.”
“It became our coffee shop.”
“What time?”
“Tomorrow at eleven.”
“I’ll be there.”
The next morning, Miko arrived first.
She ordered two coffees and carried them to the table near the window. She remembered exactly how Meca liked hers.
When Meca entered, she saw the cup waiting and smiled.
“You remembered.”
“I remember everything.”
Meca sat across from her.
For a few minutes, they talked about work. Miko shared news about a project she had completed, and Meca described changes happening at her office.
The conversation was comfortable.
That made what came next more difficult.
Meca wrapped both hands around her coffee cup. “We’ve been avoiding this.”
“I know.”
“I kept thinking things would feel different if we gave it more time.”
“Me too.”
“I love you, Miko.”
Miko looked at her. “I love you too.”
“But we’re not happy.”
Miko wanted to disagree.
Instead, she told the truth. “No, we’re not.”
Meca looked down. “I don’t want us to reach a point where we start resenting each other.”
“I don’t either.”
“What happened between us mattered too much for that.”
Miko felt tears forming in her eyes. “So what are we saying?”
“I think we’re saying that we tried.”
“Did we try hard enough?”
Meca lifted her eyes. “I don’t think love should require us to keep hurting each other just to prove we tried.”
Miko wiped a tear from her cheek. “I thought getting another chance meant we were supposed to make it.”
“Maybe the second chance wasn’t about staying together.”
“What was it about?”
“Leaving each other with the truth instead of unanswered questions.”
Miko became quiet.
Their first relationship had ended without a decision. The sentence had separated them before either woman could clearly say what she wanted.
Their reunion gave them an opportunity to discover whether their connection could survive outside the circumstances that created it.
The answer was painful, but it was honest.
Their love had survived.
Their relationship had not.
“I don’t regret you,” Miko said.
Meca reached across the table and took her hand. “I don’t regret you either.”
“Not even the confusion?”
“Not even the confusion.”
Miko laughed through her tears. “Jemika is going to think she was right about everything.”
“Jemika always thinks she’s right.”
“She usually is.”
“Don’t ever tell her that.”
They laughed together.
For a moment, they were the women they had been at the beginning—two coworkers who enjoyed each other’s company without knowing how much their lives were about to change.
Then Miko became serious.
“Did you ever wish I had chosen you sooner?”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Miko nodded. “I wish I had too.”
“But I also understand why you couldn’t.”
“I was afraid.”
“I know.”
“I thought choosing you meant I had to stop being the person I had always known.”
“And now?”
“Now I know loving you didn’t erase anything about me.”
Meca squeezed her hand.
Miko continued, “People keep wanting to know what this made me. They want a word they can understand.”
“You don’t owe them one.”
“I know that now.”
“What will you tell them?”
“That I loved a woman.”
Meca’s eyes filled with tears.
“And it was real,” Miko added. “That’s all they need to know.”
Meca smiled. “That’s enough.”
They remained in the coffee shop for nearly two hours.
They talked about the beginning, the secret smiles at work, the late-night phone calls, and the first time Jemika noticed what neither of them was ready to admit.
They talked about Jayson.
Miko told Meca that she and Jayson had spoken several times since her release but had not rebuilt their relationship. Their history would always matter, but Miko no longer confused familiarity with a reason to return.
“He asked about you once,” Miko said.
“What did he ask?”
“Whether we were together.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him we were trying.”
Meca looked down. “And now?”
“Now I’ll tell him we loved each other enough to be honest.”
When it was time to leave, they walked outside together.
Meca stood beside her car while Miko held her purse against her side.
“So this is goodbye?” Miko asked.
Meca shook her head. “I don’t want it to be.”
“What do you want?”
“I want us to have enough space to become friends one day.”
“You think we can?”
“Not today.”
Miko smiled sadly. “You still don’t give easy answers.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”
“That’s true.”
Meca stepped closer and hugged her.
Miko held her tightly, knowing this embrace was different from the one they shared on the morning of her release. That hug had carried hope that they could recover what was lost.
This one carried acceptance.
“Take care of yourself,” Meca whispered.
“You too.”
“And don’t disappear.”
“I won’t.”
They pulled apart.
Meca touched Miko’s cheek one final time before getting into her car.
Miko watched her drive away.
She cried, but the tears were not only about loss. They were also about gratitude.
Meca had loved her without demanding that she immediately understand herself. She had challenged her, supported her, and refused to become smaller simply to remain in Miko’s life.
Their relationship had not lasted forever.
But it had changed Miko forever.
Months later, Miko walked into a restaurant and heard someone call her name.
“Miko?”
She turned and saw Jemika standing near the entrance.
“Girl, look at you,” Jemika said as she hugged her. “You look good.”
“So do you.”
They sat at the bar and began catching up. Jemika asked about Miko’s job, apartment, and plans for the future.
Eventually, she asked the question Miko knew was coming.
“So, where’s Meca?”
Miko smiled. “Living her life.”
“You two not together?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Life.”
Jemika studied her. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
Miko laughed. “Everybody always asking me that.”
“Because you don’t always tell the truth.”
“I’m telling it now.”
Jemika took a sip of her drink. “Can I ask you something?”
“You’re going to ask anyway.”
“Are you gay?”
Miko didn’t become defensive.
She didn’t laugh or search for an explanation that would make Jemika understand.
“No,” Miko said. “But I loved Meca.”
Jemika raised an eyebrow.
Miko smiled. “Both things can be true.”
Jemika nodded slowly. “I guess they can.”
“They can.”
“And you don’t feel like you need to call it anything?”
“I call it love.”
For once, Jemika had nothing else to say.
Miko left the restaurant feeling lighter.
She no longer needed to defend what she had experienced. She didn’t need to minimize the relationship by calling it an experiment, and she didn’t need to adopt a label that didn’t feel like her own.
Meca had been more than curiosity.
She had been comfort, desire, conflict, truth, and love.
She had been proof that the heart could recognize a person before the mind understood what to call the connection.
Miko hoped that one day she and Meca would sit across from each other again. Maybe they would laugh about their past. Maybe they would finally become the friends they had promised to be.
Or maybe they would simply carry the memory of each other into separate lives.
Either way, Miko was no longer ashamed of the door she had opened.
Curiosity opened the door.
Love changed everything.
Life chose a different ending.