Chapter 20 #2
“I really meant it,” Bree said matter-of-factly. Heat crept up Simone’s neck and into her cheeks, which might have been from the gin but also might not have been. “But listen, I’m just glad you’re doing better now. I’ve seen a bunch of posts about the Rainbow Museum. Seems cool.”
“It’s all right.” Simone was still bitter about the lackluster health benefits. “What about you? What have you been up to since the fall?”
They sipped their drinks, ate fries, and chatted about Bree’s life.
She’d gotten an offer on one of the software engineering jobs she’d applied to after the layoffs, but she’d ultimately turned it down in favor of going freelance.
Now she was making more money and working fewer hours, which gave her the freedom to pursue more hobbies.
She was taking a pottery class, doing yoga, getting lessons on making Korean food from her eighty-five-year-old grandma.
“Ooh, what have you learned to make so far?”
“Learned is a strong word,” Bree said, laughing. They were both starting in on their second martinis, and had ordered a second basket of fries. “I can only really do it when she’s yelling at me in Korean. Otherwise, I forget all the steps. When you come over, we’ll order takeout.”
Not “if” you come over. “When.” A shiver went down Simone’s spine. She’d already been covered in a thin sheen of sweat, so now she felt sort of clammy.
Bree touched her arm again. “Hey, Simone?”
“Hmm?” Simone’s heart thudded against her rib cage.
“I’ve always thought you were really cool.
” Bree set her martini on the table. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully.
“Yes, I was hurt by everything that happened between us, but like I said, I mostly just felt sad that such a wonderful person was so repressed. And now that you’re out”— she briefly bit her perfect Cupid’s bow lip—“well, what I’m trying to say is: I’d be into potentially exploring things again. ” Bree shifted closer on the love seat.
Her rose-scented perfume was making Simone dizzy, and the one and a half martinis weren’t helping, either.
She forced herself to think rationally: She’d come here tonight to find out if deep down, her heart still wanted Bree.
And now Bree was mere inches from her, lips plump and red, waiting to see what Simone would do next.
Simone’s stomach was twisting in knots, while her armpits prickled with sweat. The closer Bree shifted on the love seat, the more Simone thought of Ryan.
Ryan standing up to her mother at brunch, insisting Simone was still bi no matter who she was dating; Ryan holding her as she cried in Seth’s bedroom; Ryan proudly introducing her to his moms; Ryan buying her maple spice lattes and making her homemade meatballs; Ryan dancing onstage at drag bingo and helping her find her phone in the woods.
She thought of big things and little things—all things she didn’t want to live without for a day longer.
Simone jerked backward into the armrest, sloshing dirty martini onto her lap. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted. “I just realized…” I love Ryan, she thought. “I don’t have the same feelings that I used to.”
Bree passed her a napkin from the table. “It’s fine,” she said, then slumped against the back of the love seat. “If I’m being honest, I was forcing it a little, too.”
Simone looked up from pressing the napkin into the damp fabric of her dress. “Wait, really?”
Bree reached for her martini again. “Can I be totally honest? You have to promise not to think I’m a jerk.”
“Like I’ve never been a jerk to you.”
“Ha.” A smile flickered across Bree’s face. “The truth is, I really did want to see you tonight… but part of the reason I reached out is that I’ve been trying really hard to get over someone.”
“Who?”
“This woman I started seeing in December. Gabi.” She paused. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“Not at all.” And it was true. Simone grabbed two fries at once and dipped them in mayo, suddenly ravenous. “Did you guys break up?”
“Not by choice,” Bree said, gazing into the fireplace. “She accepted a two-year job posting in Paris—”
“—and didn’t want to do long-distance?” Simone guessed.
“No, Gabi did.” Bree’s voice lowered in pitch. “I was the one who freaked out.”
“You did?”
“I don’t know why.” Bree swirled her martini around in her glass. “A part of me wanted to, but then a part of me got scared that it was a really big commitment so early in the relationship.”
“But you’re lesbians,” Simone teased.
“Look at you, with the queer jokes.” Bree smirked.
“Is there something about Gabi that makes you scared to commit?”
“No, Gabi’s amazing,” Bree answered immediately. “Sorry, is it weird that I’m telling you this?”
“No! Please, keep going. It’s actually nice.”
Bree spent the next few minutes gushing about Gabi, a Brazilian Canadian climate scientist who spoke four languages and loved doing yoga and crossword puzzles in her spare time. It sounded like Bree was obsessed with this woman, and Simone told her so.
“I am pretty obsessed with her,” Bree admitted.
“And although you’ve attempted to move on…” Simone gestured at herself.
“… I just can’t stop thinking about her,” Bree finished.
“Are you worried about the actual experience of long-distance? Like, the loneliness? Or the time difference?”
“Not really,” Bree said with a shrug. “Now that I’m freelance, I’d be able to visit whenever I wanted.”
“Then what are you so worried about?”
Bree appeared to mull it over. “I guess that…” She sighed. “I dunno. Some of my friends think we’re being ridiculous for even considering this after like four months of dating. And what if they’re right? What if we do end up regretting making such a big commitment so early on?”
Simone almost laughed. Suddenly, from her perspective, the solution to Bree’s problem couldn’t have been clearer. “Let’s say you do regret long-distance. You follow your heart, and then you regret it. What then?”
Bree looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, like she was bracing herself for impact. “Then I guess we’d have to break up, and it would be really fucking awful.”
Tell me about it, Simone thought. “You’re right. It would. But you know what’s way worse? Spending the rest of your life lying to yourself that you didn’t really want to give things a shot with Gabi, who sounds like the literal woman of your dreams.”
Bree’s jaw dropped. “Simone Whitaker, did you just use my own line against me?”
Simone shrugged innocently, her own heart filling with hope for the first time all week.
“You really think I should do it?” Bree asked softly.
“Has she left for Paris yet?”
Bree shook her head. “She flies out tomorrow.”
Simone tapped the top of her wrist like Judge Judy in that meme. “What the hell are you waiting for?” She flailed her arm toward the elevators. “Bree Park, go get your girl! Drinks are on me.”
Bree jumped to her feet and grabbed her jacket off the arm of the love seat. “We didn’t even get to talk about your love life.”
“It’s okay, we’ll hang out again.”
“Takeout at my place?”
“Done.” Simone grinned—not just because she’d fixed things with Bree, but because she knew exactly what she needed to do next.