The Park Bench (closed for ms_tiff)

In our small town there is a park. A beautiful lush green flower filled park the real estate gurus and politicians some how spared from their endless drive to construct more. It borders the town square where the library and town hall are buttressed by the church. In the center of the town square is a statue of Athenia. A gorgeous work of white marble high on a column.

The park winds out of town along a couple roads and is probably ten square miles but in a unique pie like shape. There are running paths and a small pond here children float their sailboats. in the winter they ice skate on it.

There is a large Maple which shades the entire street and an old iron and wood bench which faces the park across the street.

Our town is small and isolated so everyone knows everyone but not really, if you know what i mean. We say hello on the street and at Church but we don't get into each others business.

My name is Claire and I own a flower shop a couple blocks from the town square. I live in the apartment over my shop and like to take runs through town and the park. I am twenty seven, single and happy with my life. I moved here after college having heard good things about a simple life and they turned out to be true. The guy who told me, and I imagined marrying here moved directly tot he city five hours away and never responded to my emails or calls.

Hillcrest is just like any other small town. Everybody knows everybody else. You grow up knowing your neighbors, usually you end up marrying one of them. Then your kids will marry your neighbor’s kids and so on and so forth. It’s been that way since my great-great grandfather helped to found Hillcrest and I don’t see it changing any time soon.

I was born here and, like my ancestors, I will die here. My kids will do the same and their kids after them. Most likely one of my kids will run the town someday. It’s the family business after all. My great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my father all served as Hillcrest’s mayor for most of their lives. And now my husband is mayor and has been for the past five years.

Jeff and I have been married for twelve years now. We grew up together, shared our first kiss on the playground when we were ten, made love for the first time when we were sixteen, got married at twenty-one on the day I returned home from college. We’ve never known life without the other. Maybe that’s why I’m bored. Maybe that’s why I find myself wishing for something new and different. But there is no such thing as new or different here in Hillcrest.

At least not until she came to town. Claire with her bright smile and sunny disposition, which so perfectly matches her flower shop. She came a few years ago and, since the first moment she walked into my library, I was smitten. I had had dalliances with a few women in college, encounters that left me feeling blissfully content. But, upon moving home, I had left that “experimentation” behind and focused on Jeff and our life together. Something had always been missing though.

The first time she walked into my library I felt my heart flutter. She was beautiful. She made me think of things I hadn’t thought of in years. That night I had gone home and made love to Jeff in a way I hadn’t done in ages. It was that way any time I encountered Claire. Over time we developed a vague friendship, one of those “how are you?” “Oh I’m good!” types of things. Nothing serious, always surface level. But I wanted more. I needed more. I couldn’t have more.

I’m thirty-three now, an old married woman with a husband to think of and a library to run. Jeff and I tried for years to have kids, but it was never in the cards for us. Finally, last year, I decided to stop trying. I thought that having children would fill the hole inside of me, but I knew that wasn’t what I needed. I knew that having a baby was never going to fix the divide between myself and Jeff (a divide that he was blissfully unaware of).

Sitting in the park on my lunch break, I breathe in the fresh air; different from the musk of books yet just as tantalizing. I feel the press of lips and the brush of stubble against my cheek.

“Hello, dear.” I say with a smile. Jeff sit beside me, his khaki pants and blue polo shirt suited more for the golf course than a day in the mayoral office.

“Sara,” he smiles at me, his blue eyes bright with mischief, “I do believe that you are the prettiest thing in this park.”

I swat his arm playfully. He always was a sweet talker. It’s just a shame that I no longer find it as endearing as I used to. He laughs and leans in to kiss me. I try to keep myself from going stiff. His kiss no longer excites me. Somedays it even repulses me. As I force myself to return his kiss my eyes remain open and, in the distance, I can see Claire leaving her flower shop.

I pull away from Jeff and wave to her as she comes closer.

“Hi, Claire,” my smile is bright, open and friendly, “how are you today? Isn’t this sunshine wonderful?”

The mayor and his mrs call me over as I am headed to the coffee shop for my noon time pick me up.
"Hey Sara" I beam at my secret crush, oh the librarian.
"Mayor" I say seriously before breaking into a friendly smile.
I have on a pair of yellow Bermuda shorts that fit snugly on my toned hips and thighs. White tennis shoes and a pale blue top which neither accentuates nor detracts from me. I have my dirty blonde hair pulled back with a yellow ribbon holding my pony tail. I am hitting all the acceptable points of the Hillcrest dress guide.
My attention is pulled back to Sara as she asks ".. Isn’t this sunshine wonderful?”
I stretch my arms and lean my head back, making me all of five feet four inches tall, closing my eyes and inhaled the fresh fragrant air of the town I have fallen in love with. I exhale and open my eyes looking back at Sara smiling "delicious" I purr as our eyes connect in the secret pact neither of us is aware the other is a part of.
As the town florist I have a unique view into the people of this town. For example I know the mayor has his sectary a fresh carnation every Friday. I often wonder if Sara is aware of that. An old man in a suit walks past, Mr Johnson. He has a dozen red roses delivered to his wife on the fifteenth of the month. He told me it was because he never wanted to miss her birthday again and this way was covering his bases. He said it with a wink and a nudge to the fact his wife "takes care of him" when she has fresh flowers in the house. He must be in his seventies and I always get a kick out that order.
"I was going for coffee can I bring you anything?" I ask smiling at Sara then catching the Mayor's eyes well below my face. As one of the few single women in town I am accustom to getting attention like this but it is not normally so blatant in front of their wives.
"I could drop it by the library if you need to get back" I say ignoring the Mayor's wandering eyes and smiling at Sara.

I can't blame Jeff for blatantly staring at Claire's figure. If I wasn't so afraid of being caught I would be, too. Instead, I focus my gaze on hers, drinking in her warm smile and demeanor. Her offer to get me a coffee makes me smile. Such a thoughtful woman.

"Oh no, I'm quite alright." I reply, "I've already had three cups today. Anymore and I may just bounce off the walls. But you're very sweet for asking."

Honestly, I just don't want to be alone with her. Because I don't know how I could manage being alone with Claire when all I want to do is sink my fingers into that blonde hair and kiss those beautiful lips.

I allow myself one moment of weakness, my eyes taking a quick scan of Claire's figure as Jeff's phone rings. She's beautifully petite with a creamy complexion and a girlish figure. I can't help but compare my own figure to hers. Next to this pixie I am practically a giant at 5'8". My body, once tight and toned from years as a cheerleader is now soft and rounded. My hair brushes my shoulders, a plain brown with only a slight wave to it. While she is dressed for summer, I am wearing a dress with a plain, plaid pattern of tan and burn orange. The matronly librarian look is fully completed by a cardigan and my black, plastic frame glasses. The only saving grace is that the dress hugs tight against my chest, allowing the world to know that, yes, I am a woman underneath this.

Beside me I hear Jeff on the phone with his secretary. I know that he has been fooling around with her on the side. I know that they haven't slept together yet, but that things have been physical to some extent. He no longer asks for his weekend blowjob, so I know she's at least doing that for him. I used to love sucking his dick, I don't know when I started to get disgusted by the feel of him inside my mouth. At some point, though, I just couldn't stomach taking him into my mouth every night like I had when we were still young and in love.

"I need to get back to office," Jeff says, hanging up the phone. "Meeting with Liam about the Founder's Day festival." He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and heads off.

And now Claire and I are alone. Or as alone as you can be in the middle of the park.

"My lunch break is nearly over." I quickly stammer. "I should be getting back. I'm sure there's people wanting to get in the library." As the sole librarian the library closes whenever I go on lunch. "Have a good day, Claire." I smile and walk quickly back to my sanctuary. I can't help, however, taking one last glance over my shoulder at the beautiful woman. One last look to help me get through the day.

"I'd let you bounce off me" Claire thought as she watched Sara leave. There was something about her. Something Claire could not put her finger on but turned her on so much just having a pleasant conversation with her. Maybe it was the conservative look or the rare glances she gave Claire.
"Your imagining things" Claire thought as she headed off to the coffee shop. She glanced at Sara walking quickly across the square. Claire smiled to herself as she thought things so forbidden, so out of the norm of Hillcrest, even taboo for Claire.
Standing in line Claire could not get Sara out of her head.
"I'll take a Latte and a decaf latte to go" she told the cute boy behind the counter. "You are bad Claire" she thought as she but her lip waiting for her drinks.
"It's decaf, how can she mind? Maybe I am not imagining her glances" she thought as she headed towards the library. Claire could not believe how hard her heart was beating. She had not felt this way since she dated that hot boy in high school. Outside the old marble building she lost her nerve and dropped the decaf in the trash can and walked back to her shop quickly.
She got back to the shop and stepped in and leaned back against the door as if trying to hide.
"What is up with you Claire? She is a married woman." she thought to herself. The devil on her other shoulder said "but her husband is probably cheating."
"You don't know that!" her angel said in response.
"It was a coffee? You didn't try to kiss her, but imagine..." her devilish side said.
Her angel was quiet as she enjoyed the rush of thinking of kissing Sara's soft sweet lips.
"Back to work" she sighed and turned the "closed" sign around to "open."

The day passed slowly as Sara shelved books, greeted her patrons and attended to the general activities of the library. Finally, six o'clock came around and she walked out of the small library, locking the door behind her. Glancing over at the courthouse next door, she caught sight of the light in Jeff's office. No doubt he wouldn't be getting home until late that night.

For a moment she considered stopping in and saying hello and that she would see him at home. As she stepped towards the courthouse a distinctly feminine shadow move across the window. Well, it wouldn't do to interrupt him and Shannon mid-blowjob. If she did that then she would have to force herself to react like the betrayed wife she was supposed to be.

With a sigh, Sara turned and made her way down the sidewalk. The two story colonial cottage, which had been gifted by Sara's parents to the happy couple on their wedding day, was situated just twenty minute walk from the main street. To get there, Sara had to walk past the flower shop.

As she neared the shop, Sara couldn't help but glance inside. Was Claire still working? Or had she gone home for the night? Where was home for the young woman? In all the years that Claire had lived in Hillcrest, Sara had yet to know where she called home.

Home. Sara's mind turned to the empty house sitting at the end of her walk. She didn't feel like going there. Didn't feel like making dinner and setting the table as if nothing was wrong. She didn't feel like acting the perfect housewife when everything was falling apart around her.

Before she could second guess herself, Sara veered off course and approached the shop's door.

Claire has gone for a run after work. She liked to run in the park. Once in a while there were some good looking guys running who would give her looks but today was consumed by Sara, so when she walked up to her shop and saw her there her heart skipped a beat.
"Hey Sara" she said slightly out of breath as perspiration coated her face and neck. She wore a black sports bra under an old grey "property of State College" cut off tee shirt exposing her toned abs. She wore short white running shorts and pink and grey running shoes. She wrapped the headphones wire around her phone and smiled at the librarian,
"What can I do for you?" Claire asked with a friendly smile. She could tell something was bothering Sara as she looked at her through her black framed glasses. "Want to come up for a glass of lemonade on my veranda?" Claire was exaggerating as the veranda she referred to was the small balcony above the shop's entrance.
Claire wiped the sweat from her brow and then unhooked her key from her waist band. She stepped next to Sara and opened the door to the shop.
"My apartment is upstairs. Kinda crazy set up but cozy and cheap" she said with another smile. The cool air from the air conditioning in the shop pushed out against the woman as they entered.
Claire led the way to a door in the back which opened on a small stair case. She was conscious of Sara behind her and how messy and sweaty she was. Not how she hoped to be when she saw Sara again, at least not starting off.
The apartment was a kitchen and living room. Claire has a small table by the window and then a small archway led into a bedroom. It was bright, cheerful and well lit as well as tidy.
"Make yourself comfortable" Claire said dropping her phone and keys on the kitchen counter. "I am just going to dry off a bit" she said feeling self conscious as she stepped into the bathroom.
"What the fuck is she doing here? Did she see Jeff eyeball me? Is she going to tell me to step back/ Fuck!" her mind raced with all kinds of reasons for Sara being here, the last being that she was jut saying hello.
She wiped her face and arms with a towel and then took a breath and went back out to Sara.

With Claire’s invitation, the mystery of where she lived was solved. Without realizing what she was doing, Sara was following Claire into the shop and up the stairs to the small apartment above. As they climbed the stairs the librarian couldn’t help but note the way that the white running shorts hugged Claire’s pert ass.

Since when did she think of another woman’s ass as pert? Since when did she notice another woman’s ass?

Sara shook her head, trying to clear it as she stepped into the quaint apartment. Even in the fading light of day the apartment was bright and cheerful, everything that one would expect from a florist.

“Make yourself comfortable.”

Easier said than done, thought Sara as she glanced around the apartment. As Claire disappeared into bathroom, Sara sat stiffly on the sofa; completely out of place and unsure of what she was even doing there.

Claire walked back out into the living room and Sara smiled faintly.

“Sorry for just showing up.” She apologized. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.” Her fingers toyed with a loose curl, absentmindedly. “Honestly, I just didn’t want to go home yet. Jeff’s still…working and so it would just be me, which didn’t sound too appealing at the moment.”

Claire smiled unsure of Sara had put together her husband was cheating or just stopping by.
"Lucky me" Claire chirped happily looking warmly into Sara's dark troubled eyes. "Let me get some lemonade and we can talk" Claire said suddenly self conscious of her apartment and everything about her. She she reached up and got glasses down she felt Sara judging her place and her. She had to slide some ice out of the tray and into the glass, while she was sure Mrs Mayor had an ice maker and possibly a house keeper.

Claire brushed the loose hair from her face as she turned with the pitcher of lemonade to fill the glasses. She smiled at Sara begging for forgiveness.

She filled the glasses and left the pitcher on the counter. She walked over to the couch and handed Sara her glass then sat down on the small couch turned towards Sara.

"This is a nice surprise" Claire started as she relived he coffee silliness from lunch. She drank in the cold tart and sweet liquid. "I am glad you are here" she said a little too forward she thought. She put her glass down on the small coffee table and could not help but take in Sara's bare ankles and legs running up under the skirt. She then brought her eyes up appreciating Sara's hidden figure.

"So what's up?" Claire said trying to break the ice.

Sara tried not to stare as Claire moved about the apartment; her lithe frame all but begging for attention. Biting her lip, Sara forced herself to turn away.

What was she doing here? Why hadn't she just gone home? Nothing made sense anymore and, though she was loathe to admit it, Sara didn't think she wanted it to.

As Claire handed her a cool glass, condensation already building and making the sides slick, Sara felt her fingertips brush ever so gently against the florists. The touch, light and fleeting as it was, sent a shiver down her spine.

"This is a nice surprise. I am glad you are here. So what's up?"

Claire's words drew her back to the present.

Sara shrugged. "Jeff's still working. Guess I didn't feel like putzing about that big house all by myself." She forced a smile as an awkward silence built between them.

Glancing about the apartment, if for no other reason than to look anywhere but at Claire, Sara took in the simple yet colorful decor.

"Funny, I never knew this apartment existed." She said. "I've lived here all my life and always thought that this was just an office space above the shop. You've really made it into a home." She turned back to Claire. "You know, I've never actually asked what brought you to Hillcrest."

"Thanks" Claire said not sure if she should be insulted by the "big house" she was avoiding and the "just an office for the shop" but she did say it was "home."

Claire paused lost in Sara's big brown eyes, but only for a second.

"Well kinda by happenstance" she began taking a long drink of her lemonade before leaning forward and putting it on the mosaic tiled coffee table. She fell back with a smile and continued, "a friend in college, Thomas, grew up here and always said it was the nicest place on earth. He went to the city or somewhere but I came and fell in love." Claire resisted telling the rest of the story about falling in love with the lovely librarian she met on her first day in town. A friendly smile and undeniable attraction had Claire put nearly her entire savings into the shop. "I saw this shop and apartment and knew this was the place for me. She smiled at Sara for a moment as the two women sat in silent pleasure of just being with the other.

"So Sara, what's your story?" Claire asked leaning forward to her lemonade while her eyes subtly took in her visitors shapely legs. "If you lived here your whole life you must be the happiest person on earth" Claire said with an innocent smile. She brought the wet glass to her lips and became aware of every sensation, every movement. The cold liquid tangy on her tongue then sliding down and cooling her.

As Claire spoke, Sara felt herself relaxing into the sofa. Her body settling in to the new environment in a way it never had at her own home.

"So Sara, what's your story?" Claire's question startled her. So absorbed in the other woman's tale, Sara was jostled to hear a question posed to her. "If you lived here your whole life you must be the happiest person on earth"

Sara couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled from her lips, the sound tinged with a hint of bitterness.

"You'd be surprised." She said softly, a sad smile on her lips. "There's not much to tell, honestly. I was born and raised here. Went to college twenty minutes down the road. Married Jeff after college and we set up house together. It's a pretty simple life and must sound boring compared to your own."

Sara watched as Claire sipped from her glass, the slight flick of her tongue against full lips. She envied Claire's freedom. She envied the fact that the woman could do anything, be anyone, she wanted.

As they sat there, a comfortable silence surrounding them, Sara couldn't tear her eyes from Claire's face, her lips. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about Claire that drew her. Something that made Sara feel reckless and desperate to shed the constraints of her boring life.

Before she knew what she was doing, before she could second guess her actions, Sara leaned in and pressed her lips to Claire's. Her tongue brushed against Claire's lower lip and Sara could taste the sweet tang of lemonade. As her tongue brushed against Claire's, Sara became suddenly aware of what she was doing. Pulling away quickly, cheeks flushed with embarassment and - dare she think it? - desire, Sara stood and turned away from Claire.

"Oh my god. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry, Claire. I'm gonna go."

Before Claire could utter a word, Sara was already racing down the stairs and, without so much as a look back to see if the lovely florist had followed, ran all the way home.

It all happened so fast. Claire heard the bell on the shop door as Sara disappeared and Claire knew she was gone. Although she was sad how she had let so quickly she could not focus on it. All she could do was relive the moment of Sara's kiss. Her perfect lips pressed to hers. The slight tough of her tongue. Claire had not been this turned on, perhaps ever. It was forbidden for so many reasons, yet it had happened. Claire had not even been the one to do it, although had the moment lingers much longer she was going to.
Then Claire's doubts began to surface. Did she not like my kiss? What I not pretty enough or sexy or interesting enough? Claire looked at herself in her running outfit and frowned. She thought how she should have changed and been more attractive. She had on no makeup but Sara did and ... Her mind went on down a dark path of self doubt as she found the bottle of vodka and topped off her lemonade then ran herself a bath.
She locked the shop door after looking out hoping to see Sara but she was gone as the street was now lit by street lights as night had fallen.
She took a long drink as the vodka burned and she had hardly had a drink since college. She did not care, she was sad and alone. She stepped out of her running shorts and panties, leaving them with her socks and tee shirt and bra on the hardwood floor outside the bathroom. She took her glass and went into the bathroom and submerged herself into the warm water.
As she sat there thinking and the vodka did what it does, she began to think about Sara's kiss again. "I should have grabbed her and never let go" she said with a smile. Her hands slid down in the soapy water and caressed her body. "I should have locked the doors" she sighed as her knees rose from the water and her hands slid down her inner thighs. "I should have told her I love her and she was the reason I was in this town" she said draining her glass.

Turning the lock, Sara leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the door. Her labored breath fogged the pane as she fought to calm her racing heart.

What had she just done? What foolishness had she allowed herself to indulge in? That kiss had been a mistake; one of massive proportions. Forget the fact that she was married; Sara was not a lesbian. She was not attracted to women, she never had been. Except for one woman.

Except for Claire.

Making her way slowly to the kitchen, Sara poured a glass of wine and took a long gulp before refilling the glass nearly to the brim. She propped a hip against the counter top and sipped from the glass, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. As the crisp Chardonnay passed her lips, Sara couldn’t help but remember the taste of lemonade on Claire’s mouth. The way that the florist’s lips molded to her own. It had seemed so natural. So…right.

The kiss, brief as it was, replayed over and over in Sara’s mind as she sipped her wine in the dark kitchen. Before she knew it, the bottle was empty and she could hear Jeff’s car pulling into the driveway. She wondered, as she heard the car door close, if he would smell like his secretary. Would there be a lipstick stain on his collar? Would his cheeks be flushed beneath the five o’clock shadow? Would he be able to sense that she, his demure little wife, had kissed another woman? What would he think if he knew?

Padding barefoot to the front door, her shoes long since kicked to a far corner of the kitchen, Sara waited for the door top open. Leaning against the wall, her head swimming tipsily, she wondered if Jeff still thought her sexy. Did he ever think about her when he had that little strumpet bent over his desk?

Strumpet? Sara giggled at the word. When had she turned into her grandma? Glancing down at her clothes, the matronly skirt and shapeless top, she grimaced. Suddenly, her clothes felt too tight, too hot, too…there.

As Jeff’s key jingled in the lock, Sara stripped off her clothes. The skirt pooling around her feet, her shirt falling next to it. But it wasn’t enough. The straps of her bra dug into her skin, her plain cotton panties felt itchy.

As the door swung open, Sara stood in front of Jeff completely naked. His eyes widened as he took in her bare form, skin pink from the wine. Sara wondered how she looked to him. Her stomach soft and with a fair amount of give to the flesh; a long cry from her high school days when she had a taut cheerleader’s figure. The curls between her legs had grown out to a full bush. Sara couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone for a wax.

“What in the world are you doing?” Jeff sputtered, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Do you still think I’m sexy?” Sara cupped her breasts and studied them. While the rest of her may have changed over the years, her breasts were still Sara’s pride and joy. Full and firm, never once giving in to gravity.

“What kind of question is that?” Jeff looked at her as if she’d grown another head.

“Just answer it!” She cried out, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. “You haven’t fucked me in five months.”

“What are you talking about? We had sex last night.”

“That wasn’t sex. That was you getting off inside me. That was routine. We haven’t well and truly FUCKED in months.” This had to be the wine speaking. Since when had Sara spoken to Jeff like this? Normally so reserved and ready to accept her fate, Sara was tired of it all. She wanted that animalistic passion that they had had in high school and college. Even the first few years of their marriage and been filled with nights, and even days, where they could barely keep their hands off each other.

“You’re drunk.” Jeff waved her off. “Go to bed.” He brushed past her and Sara heard the TV click on and the sound of the latest football commentary.

With tears in her eyes, Sara walked up the stairs and climbed, naked into bed. In the foyer her clothes lay forgotten, pooled on the floor as if the person inside them had simply disappeared.

The peak of her frenzied touching dissolved down the drain with the water as Claire stood and toweled off. "You are such a fool" she said to herself in the mirror. "How could you think a woman like Sara could for more than a second consider you?" She watched as the tears filled her eyes and she knew the last several years were a waste, a dream not to be. She watched as the salty water ran down her cheeks and she felt empty.

"I have no idea how it could have gone differently. It's just not to be." she said wiping the tears with the back of her hand as she leans against the sink.

"It's good to be the mayor" she said, then blurted out laughing as the ridiculousness of her turn of the phrase. But he was the king of this town. A beautiful elegant intelligent wife and a young energetic plaything at the office. She thought of Jeff kissing Sara. Her soft lips and wet warm tongue hungrily accepting him. Wanting him. He would have her body and feel her beautiful breasts and thighs. Probably not even appreciating her like Claire does. He probably does not even give her the pleasure he could before mounting her.

"God damn you!" she cried as the tears poured out. "She shoudl be with me!" she admitted. She finally said it and knew it to be the thing she most wanted in this world and that she had run away fro her after barely a kiss.

"What's wrong with me?" she sighed and walked naked out of the bathroom. She refilled her glass forgetting the ice and lemonade this time hoping the vodka would numb her burning desire. "Why did she run away? Am I that bad a kisser?" the thought unsure of everything. She sat curled up on the couch next to where Sara has been, wishing she was still there.

"I love you Sara. I want to make you happy every minute of every day" she said, wishing she had said them when she had the chance.

She took a long drink and put down the glass looking out into the night. "I wonder if she told him? Honey, guess what, the florist is hot for me! as some foreplay" she said to herself. "God is he getting the pleasure of my demise too?" she said sadly.

"I can't face this" she said as her mind turned to a dark place. The emptiness consumed her as she knew Sara was gone. There could never be another random meeting and first kiss, again. It was ruined and over.

Claire had to leave. She got up and pulled on a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt. She grabbed her keys and purse and left the rest behind.

She locked the shop door as the street was silent. She walked around the block and got in her old green honda. She knew she should not drive but didn't care. Her life was over. Sara was not coming back and there was nothing else keeping her there. She pulled out and managed to get to the interstate and headed out into the night.

Sara woke the next morning in a cold sweat. Her sleep had been fitful, broken up by dreams that had both terrified and tantalized. One moment her dream self could be back in Claire’s apartment, kissing the beautiful woman, hands on each other’s bodies, and the next moment she could be wrapped in a passionate embrace with Jeff only to realize that she was not herself but, rather, his young secretary. The dreams shifted constantly and Sara didn’t know when one lusty dream ended and a nightmare began as each morphed into the next seamlessly.

Finally, she could take it no longer. The first bits of sun had just begun to brush the hazy, fog-shrouded horizon when Sara forced herself out of bed. Jeff snored next to her, his sleep as peaceful as a newborn baby’s. Sara’s head pounded relentlessly, no doubt a gift from the wine she’d downed the night before, as she dressed quietly.

The first few breathes of the chilled morning air, brought her from her daze more than any shower or cup of coffee could. As she drank in that air, savoring the way it frosted her lungs, Sara began to move down the street. It had been years since she’d last run, but something about that morning called for her to get her ass up and moving. Her limbs felt tight and protested each slow, awkward movement as she regained the jogging rhythm.

As she fell into step, Sara didn’t think about where she was going. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. She wanted, simply, to lose herself in the burn of unused muscle and the rhythm of her heartbeat. Her feet carried her where they would, instinct guiding them through the empty streets, towards the park and, finally to the very door she had run out of not long ago.

Leaning against the wall of the floral shop, Sara gasped for air, her lungs and body unused to the sudden activity of the morning. She wondered about knocking, seeing if, by some chance, Claire was awake and willing to talk. Or even willing to pick up right where Sara had run out on her. So tempting was that last thought that Sara’s hand even lifted to knock on the door of the darkened shop.

She stilled.

What was she doing? Why the hell was she here? She wasn’t even gay, so why was she drawn to Claire?

Sara’s life was far from perfect, but that didn’t mean she wanted to risk it all for a brief make-out session. But there was something about Claire, something that made Sara want to know more, to touch her and kiss her, to drink in the feel of her skin against her own.

No.

Shaking her head, Sara willed away the image of bare flesh twining together. She turned, ready to head back to her home, to her life with Jeff. Yes, it was boring. Yes, it was unsatisfying. But it was safe.

She took the first few steps, ready to get back into her run, when she spotted a car coming around the corner and a disheveled, familiar face behind the wheel.

Claire made it three exits. She was half drunk, half lonely and half horny as the road looked endless and her thoughts came back to Sara. She had secretly loved Sara from afar for all these years and now, when things finally seemed to be possible she had run away. She got off the highway and stopped at the end of the exit ramp and began to cry. She had a good cry and luckily no cops came by and saw her for she was surely inebriated.

She wiped her tears as the sun began to lighten the darkness.

"You have to fight for what you want Claire" she said to herself as the back of her hand was wet with her tears. "You have to go back and tell Sara what you feel, what you want and that her kiss was the best you ever had!" she said giving herself a pep talk like she used to.

She took a deep breath and laughed at herself as she pulled across the over pass to the other side and got back on the highway headed home.

She could not think of anything but Sara and soon was playing out the scene if she went to their house and fought Jeff for her. She thought better of that and decided to go home and see about finding Sara alone first.

She pulled onto her street and was shocked as Sara stood outside her place, A smile beamed over Claire's face as she pulled up to the curb and stepped from the car. She looked at Sara as if she was from a dream. Claire did not speak as her care was still running in the empty street and she walked slowly looking at Sara for some hint of whether she was real or a dream. Why was she here? Had she wanted to come back and be with Claire? Claire walked to her leaving her car door open as the day began to brighten and soon people would be rising on this Saturday morning.

"What are you doing here?" Claire said now standing only a few feet from Sara. "Am I dreaming?" she asked herself out loud.

Biting her lip, Sara leaned against the floral shop, trying to figure out how to answer Claire. But how could she answer a question she didn’t know the answer to?

“I…I was just going for a run and I ended up here.” She said, lamely. She didn’t want to admit that she had been drawn here. Didn’t want to admit that she felt the siren call of the floral shop and the beautiful florist vibrating within her very soul.

She drew in a shaky breath, feeling the sweat trickle down her back, the ache of her muscles.

“Listen,” she continued softly, “about yesterday…” Sara looked down at her feet then back up at Claire, then down again. She didn’t know where to look. She didn’t know what she wanted to see on Claire’s face; what expression she hoped was looking back at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was…”

The word mistake was on the tip of her tongue. But it hadn’t been. Not really. A mistake is something that one never should have done. But Sara didn’t feel that way about the kiss. Sure, maybe she had thought of it that way immediately after, but not now. Not when she was standing in front of Claire.

“I don’t know what it was,” Sara sighed, “but I shouldn’t have done it and I’m sorry.” She looked up at Claire with a half-smile. “Forgive me?”

Claire looked at the object of years of desire. The soul of infinite compatibility and depth just apologized for kissing her. Her natural instinct was to accept her apology and assume that was that and they could go back to their lives. But something sopped her, steadied her as the two women stood on the sidewalk of the small conservative town at dawn on a Saturday morning. The birds were waking as the sun began to illuminate the world. Claire was filled with a sudden swell of emotion. She looked at Sara's lovely face, so sad. Her mouth opened and she heard herself say "are you really sorry, cause I am not."

Just then as Claire's luck would have it the newspaper truck rumbled onto the street and the moment was lost.

"Shit I have to park my car" Claire said. "Will you come inside?" she said desperate to know if Sara really meant it, or was just covering, like Claire had done a thousand times. "I am sorry to come to the library so late but could you help me find a book?" "I had some extra lilies and thought he library might look nice with them." She had spent years finding excuses, plausible deniability she was fond of thinking as she would watch Sara's finer trace the book spines until she happened on the one for Claire.

The truck honked and Claire sighed exasperated. "Don't move, I will be right back." she said firmly as she ran to her car and pulled it around the corner into the spot she had left an hour or so before. She looked at herself in the rear view as she turned off the ignition.

"This is it girl. Let's do this!" she said giving herself a similar pep talk she gave herself before going for a run. She pushed her hair around for a moment realizing it was impossible and jumped from the car. She ran towards the corner of the building with the sinking feeling Sara would not be there. Her heart stopped. Her mouth was dry. Butterflies fluttered in her slender abs.