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It started with a knock on the door and the smell of freshly baked cookies.
Shauna’s arms were tired from carrying tens of boxes from the front lawn to the living room, and she was pretty sure she had been walking the same steps for the better part of an hour, now. Melissa, her wife, was somewhere inside the house, hidden under the excuse of setting up everything neatly in the master bathroom – though Shauna suspected she must have already been done with that task for a while, because putting away toiletries couldn’t possibly take that long.
Still, she kept lifting, walking, dropping. Repeatedly. Exhaustively. Till the very last one of them — every single one carefully labeled, marked with her handwriting in thick black letters across the cardboard.
Once she was finally finished — and Melissa was still nowhere to be found —, Shauna simply collapsed onto the couch, not bothering to shut the front door, way too tired to make the walk one last time. She had long removed the flannel she’d picked out in the morning, stripped down to only blue jeans secured by a black leather belt and a white tank now. Her forehead was dripping with sweat, and a few thick beads slid down the back of her neck too, courtesy of the bright summer day outside. The only thing in her mind at the moment was just how much she wished the AC guy had already showed up to do his job — but, much to her dismay, he wouldn’t be there until the next day.
So she relaxed the way she could — with her head leaned against the back of the couch and her eyes closed shut, waiting patiently for her body to cool down on its own.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in that position — it could have been long minutes or short seconds, she didn’t know exactly, her time perception twisted by the sheer lack of sleep caused by the move-in. Melissa had teased her about it a few days before, claiming she couldn’t be trusted to lean against any flat surfaces anymore, not if she wanted to stay awake.
But something took her out of her haze. A knock — soft, not too loud, just one middle phalanx clashing twice against the open door, enough to pull her away from the confusing half dreams that were starting to cloud her brain and back into the real world.
“Um, excuse me?” Shauna heard her before she saw her, that velvety voice, distinct, slightly raspy towards the end of the sentence. “I brought a welcome. And an apology for the heat.”
Shauna lifted her head slowly, deliberately, taking just a second to finally drift completely back into herself.
“Oh.” She spoke, at last getting a good look at whoever it was that disturbed her momentary peace. “Hello.”
And wow.
Sure, she had a wife, but she wasn’t dead. And she still had eyes. Well functioning ones, too, that didn’t really let beauty go unnoticed when they ran into it — especially that kind of beauty.
Whoever that woman was on her doorframe, she was gorgeous. Sun kissed skin glowing beautifully under the late afternoon rays that snuck into the house from behind her, pouty lips covered in pink lip gloss, silky hair pulled up in a spotless ponytail, with two intentionally loose strands falling graciously over both sides of her face. She wore a sundress, yellow, accentuating her flawless tan, thin straps, paired up with simple yet expensive looking white pumps. And those eyes — they were what truly disarmed Shauna. Big, hazel, taking up half of her face, making her look like a doll that made a wish to become the most beautiful girl in town.
Not a hair out of place. So put together, picture perfect, polished, impeccable — so much so that Shauna suspected, only for a half second, that she might’ve been stroking out from the heat, and she was nothing but a mirage, a beautiful, hazy illusion.
But, once again, the sound of her voice pulled her back into reality.
“I can come back at a better time if you’re not feeling up for company right now.” The woman said, probably taking in the state Shauna was in — sweaty, tired, still half stuck in some sort of heat induced sleepy trance.
“No, no.” Shauna quickly sat up straight, then stood on her bare feet — the last thing she wanted was to cause a bad impression on the very first person she met in her new neighborhood. She gestured vaguely at the cardboard mess that took over half her living room. “I was just catching my breath from carrying these inside.”
Of course, the idea of being perceived as anything but a pleasant neighbor to have around seemed about a thousand times worse when it came to someone who looked like that, though the ring around her finger didn’t allow her to admit it, not even to herself.
So, under the prospect of appearances and neighborliness, she walked a step closer to the front door.
“Please,” she said, a friendly smile popping up on her face, “come on in.”
Her grin immediately matched Shauna’s, bright and big, polite, warm. She stepped inside the house and walked up to her, heels clicking against the hardwood flooring, and only then did Shauna notice she held something in her hands — the welcome she mentioned when she knocked on the door: an aluminum foil covered blue ceramic plate, containing what Shauna could only assume was some sort of pastry or other type of baked good.
“Sorry for dropping in like this,” she spoke, ever so perky and lively, “but I just couldn’t contain my excitement when I heard another young couple was moving into the neighborhood. I swear, everyone here’s, like, at least well into their forties.”
She left the plate on the coffee table and held out a hand towards Shauna.
“I’m Jackie Sadecki.” The polite, poised, radiant smile never left her lips. “I live with my husband Jeff three houses down.”
Shauna shook her hand, once again matching the expression on her face.
“Shauna Shipman. Just moved here with my wife Melissa, she’s… upstairs, somewhere, actually.” She nodded courteously, noticing the shiny emerald dangling from the ring around Jackie's finger. “The endless task of stocking up shelves and drawers.”
Jackie let out a breathy chuckle.
“Tell me about it. When Jeff and I moved here, I swear I spent weeks emptying out boxes. You don’t realize how much junk you have until you actually need to find a place for everything.” She finally let go of Shauna's hand. “If it's any consolation, it does end, eventually.”
“I hope you’re right. Don’t know how much more time I can spend deciding where stuff like staplers and bookmarks are supposed to be kept.”
She laughed, and Shauna couldn’t help but let her own grin grow a little bit.
Shauna gestured towards the couch. “Um, have a seat, please.” Jackie did as she asked. “Can I get you something to drink? We do already have a half-stocked working fridge.”
“On your first day? Impressive.” She smirked playfully. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, then.”
So Shauna made a quick trip to the kitchen and poured two glasses of iced tea. It was a small, satisfying validation of her earlier logic to unpack the KITCHEN labeled boxes first, ensuring basic functionality. A principle that was now, quite literally, paying dividends.
She carried the glasses back to the living room on a tray and placed them on the coffee table as Jackie muttered a soft “thanks”, taking a seat next to her on the couch. One of Shauna's hands immediately met the aluminum foil on the plate Jackie had so graciously brought over, pulling it off, only to reveal she had been right — those were, in fact, chocolate chip cookies.
“Wow, these look amazing.”
“It’s an old family recipe. Jeff swears by them.” She said modestly. “Please, have one.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
And they were, in fact, amazing. Shauna complimented the cookies, half because she actually liked them, half for the sake of flattery, and Jackie thanked her with a grin.
After a few bites and a few sips of tea, she asked:
“So, what brings you to Havenwood?”
“Convenience, mostly.” Shauna mentioned. “Melissa’s always wanted to live in a proper house, white picket fence, green lawn, the works. And I recently took a job at a company that’s only a short drive away. Just seemed to fit well.”
Jackie nodded.
“A short commute’s the dream. Jeff works for a finance company downtown, and the drive alone’s basically a part time job.” She rolled her eyes fondly, a well practiced gesture, as if she’d said that exact sentence before. “What’s your line of work? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“I’m an architect.” Shauna clarified, taking another cookie from the pile. “Just signed on as a senior project manager at a firm about twenty minutes from here. Couldn’t handle the idea of spending much longer than that stuck in traffic, to be honest, I think that’s the type of thing that’d ruin my whole week.”
Jackie smiled.
“An architect,” she repeated, glancing around the living room, taking notice of the few items of furniture that were actually already assembled. Her interest was visibly piqued. “Now that you’ve mentioned it… I can see it. Bet you have all kinds of ideas for this place.”
Shauna chuckled.
“Yeah, well, I’m always sketching up something. Though Melissa’s already vetoed the idea of a rooftop terrace… turns out she’s a bit harder to convince than my boss.” The words came out lighter than they felt, and Shauna had a feeling she might have said a bit too much, so she quickly came to her own rescue. “Well. I’m pretty sure I still can bargain for a backyard patio.”
“Havenwood’s the place for it if you ever change her mind. The soccer moms in the neighborhood association live for ‘tasteful renovations’.” She made air quotes with her perfectly manicured fingers. “I’m sure you’d win them all over in a heartbeat.”
Shauna still held the cookie in her hand, a smile lingering on her lips.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” A quick pause. “And you and Jeff? What was it that brought you here?”
Jackie took a small sip of her iced tea, eyes drifting along the boxes scattered around the room.
“He grew up here. In this very neighborhood, actually, just a few blocks away. His parents still live in the same house… so, for him, it was non-negotiable.”
Non-negotiable. Right.
Shauna shrugged.
“It’s very… safe. Peaceful.” She offered diplomatically, catching the slightest hint of aversion in Jackie's tone. “The type of quiet you don’t really find in the city.”
“That it is.” Jackie said, placing her half empty glass of iced tea over the tray on the coffee table. “I guess sometimes I just miss not having to drive 15 miles for a coffee shop that stays open past six. Or neighbors that talk about anything other than their grandchildren’s latest elementary school developments.”
Before Shauna could say anything, Jackie let out a scoff, placing a delicate hand on her own thigh.
“God, listen to me. I sound so negative.” She adjusted her spine, sitting up straighter, the smile on her face somewhat wider now, although the shift didn’t really reach her eyes. “It’s a wonderful place to live, really. You’re gonna love it here.”
Shauna gave her her best crooked grin.
“If it helps at all,” she said, pointing the cookie between her thumb and her index in Jackie's direction, “I don’t even have children, let alone grandchildren. Let alone grandchildren in elementary school. Plus, I make a mean cup of coffee — even after sunset.”
Jackie chuckled, shoulders seemingly relaxing a bit.
“It does help.” She looked at Shauna for a moment, letting a contained yet very much present smile take over her lips. “You know what? You and Melissa should come over for dinner with me and Jeff sometime. I have a feeling we’re all gonna be really good friends.”
Shauna nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”
The conversation didn’t last much longer after that — as the sun started to set, Jackie smoothed over her dress and got up, muttering something about “leaving her to it” before disappearing out the open door with a smile and a bouncy ponytail.
When she left, she didn’t close the door all the way — no. Instead, she accidentally left it ajar, a refreshing early night breeze creeping into the living room through the gap, contrasting with the earlier scorching heat that tortured Shauna while she carried all the boxes around.
A beat after Jackie walked out, Shauna heard familiar footsteps on the staircase, as Melissa finally emerged — damp blonde hair, clean clothes, neutral expression on her face.
“Babe?” She asked, hand on the railing as she went down the last couple of steps. “Who were you talking to just now?”
Shauna gulped. Cleared her throat, suddenly nervous, for some reason.
“Uh, no one important.” She muttered, placing the cookie that was still in her hand back on the plate. “Just a neighbor.”
She wasn’t sure why, but that sentence made her heart race and her chest tighten as if she’d just told the biggest lie of her life.
She shook it off, though. Closed her eyes for a second, took a breath, flashed her wife a tired smile later that night over a box of Chinese and a 90s sitcom — the TV still on the floor because she hadn’t yet found the energy to assemble the credenza.
And, as the days went by, life in Havenwood gradually became more and more real, routine, hers. She’d already learned both routes to work by heart — the scenic one and the faster one, cutting through residential streets in order to avoid school pick up traffic. Some of the older ladies in the neighborhood association had come to greet her while she watered the plants on a Saturday morning, mentioning how great it was that she and her wife had brought diversity into the block, in response to which Shauna forced a smile and said a polite thank you. The next door neighbor’s Cocker Spaniel had snuck into her lawn twice now, and she had been nothing but a perfect sport both times, even though his last visit had cost her a beautiful set of recently planted irises.
Then, of course, there was Jackie.
Always around, somehow — whether it was on her front lawn by the time Shauna drove past her house on her way to work, picking up the morning paper and waving politely as she saw her car, or late in the afternoon, watering her blue hydrangeas, smiling her way as Shauna got home after a busy day. Monday through Friday, like clockwork, right as she left, right as she came back: there she was. Greeting her every single time, slowly starting to become a steady part of her routine.
And Shauna wasn’t complaining.
For some reason, her heart skipped a beat every time. Her knees faltered just a bit and that automatic crooked grin took over her lips. She involuntarily let out a soft “morning, Jackie” or “evening, Jackie” before she could even think. She may or may not have started taking a few minutes longer picking out jewelry, color coordinating outfits, applying just enough makeup to make it look like she wasn’t wearing any at all.
But she didn’t allow herself to read too far into it — she had a new friend, her only friend in the neighborhood so far, and she wanted to make a good impression. Sure enough, she’d never really had a friend who looked like that. Who made her heart flutter that way — not before Melissa. Her wife. Who she loved very, very much.
Ah, it was a harmless crush. Something that could and would never lead anywhere, especially since she was not a cheater and Jackie Sadecki was evidently the straightest woman on the planet.
So she tried to relax. Told herself that, as long as she acted normal, it would go away.
As the days passed, Shauna couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t met Jeff yet. Her mental image of him was reduced only to a black BMW with tinted windows, leaving her street way too early, coming back way too late. And it stayed that way up until a random Friday night, when she stepped out of the front door to pick up her Postmates order and coincidentally caught a glimpse of his figure as he got home from work. He was tall, buff, dressed in a nice, well tailored suit. Classically, obviously handsome — red blooded, sharp jawed, all American, the type who’d definitely been a football star back on his high school days. In his hand, a brown leather briefcase with Italian shoes to match. Shauna kept thinking about what he must’ve looked like beside Jackie — together, they probably resembled something like Havenwood’s own Barbie and Ken: beautiful, impeccable, practically made out of plastic.
His eyes drifted toward her for just a moment — accidental, distracted. Neither of them said hello.
And it wasn’t until about three or four days later that Shauna drove past the Sadecki household on her way home from work and, for once, Jackie wasn’t there.
No. She was on Shauna's lawn, perched over Shauna's fence, smiling at Shauna's wife.
As Shauna left her car, just a bit slower and more robotically than usual, she really couldn’t explain why her heart suddenly felt like a sledgehammer in her chest.
“Baby,” she said, a bit too calm, a bit too collected, eyes landing on Melissa, “you’re home early.”
Then, a beat. She looked at Jackie, who was already grinning politely at her.
“Hi, Jackie.”
Melissa leaned in almost instinctively, giving her a routine kiss on the cheek, a familiar hand finding the small of her back.
“Work wasn’t too busy today.” She explained, using her free hand to point towards Jackie. “Look who I ran into. Apparently she’s the sorceress who brought us those heavenly cookies when we first moved?”
Shauna smiled and gave a quick nod, looking between the two.
“She is. We owe her our sanity.”
Jackie brushed her off with a hand wave.
“Oh, please. It was nothing. If anything, you two are the ones who granted me some sanity. It’s nice to finally have other women my age around.”
Melissa’s hand pressed just a bit more firmly against her, creasing the fabric of her shirt as she glanced at her face.
“You’ve been holding out on me, huh?” Her voice came out playful, easy, ever so charming. “Jackie mentioned you’ve met a few times. And here I was thinking the coolest neighbor we had was that gray haired lady with the two Rottweilers.”
“Ah, Mrs. Bennett. Definitely cooler than me by a mile.” Jackie teased, both hands now drifting to smooth out her dress. “Well. I was just telling Melissa here that Jeff and I would love to have you two over for dinner this weekend. I think it’s about time we all get together.”
Before Shauna could say anything, Melissa came forward:
“Isn’t that nice? I already told her we’re free on Saturday.”
Shauna smiled courteously, politely, just a tiny bit forced. For some reason, deep down, she wasn’t exactly excited about the idea.
“You work fast,” she told her wife, then turned her head back to face her neighbor. “And that’s very generous of you, Jackie, but you don’t have to go through the trouble.”
“Please. It’s no trouble at all.” She smiled again. “Plus, who knows? Maybe a chat with a real architect is just what Jeff needs to finally see how a rooftop terrace would be the perfect new addition to the house. I was just telling Melissa how much I love the idea.”
And she winked. An actual wink. One that landed on Shauna like a spark, one that flew completely over Melissa’s head.
Blissfully unaware of the subtext, Melissa nodded.
“Well, we can’t wait.” She said, her hand now moving from Shauna's back over to her waist. “We’ll see you Saturday.”
Jackie pulled away from the fence slowly, deliberately, one hand lingering over the pointy tip as her eyes stayed on Shauna for a second too long.
“See you both then.”
Saturday came soon enough.
And, like all things Jackie Sadecki, her house was nothing short of spotless. Sure, Shauna could have predicted that from how majestic it already looked from the outside — a pristine, two-story Colonial revival, painted a conservative dove gray with stark white trim and a roof to match. Rectangular windows, perfectly symmetrical, two on the bottom and two on the top, always wiped down to a tee, allowing you to catch a glimpse of your own reflection whenever you drove or walked past. Framing the front porch, her lush bed of blue hydrangeas, a hint of light amidst the sober tones of the house, almost too perfect, almost too polished.
It was pretty, Shauna thought — her professional opinion as an architect. But it lacked something. Personality, maybe. Life. A spark, she didn’t know what of exactly, but something, anything to make it look and feel like a home instead of an Architectural Digest still page.
As she and Melissa stood at the door, a relatively expensive bottle of red wine clutched in her hand, Shauna couldn’t help but wonder if the inside of the house was just as artificially perfect.
As it turned out, it was even more.
Once Jackie answered the door, the smell of lemon-scented polish invaded her nostrils. Her eyes immediately drifted down to the flooring — dark brown, probably walnut, distinguished and pricy, spotlessly waxed. Carefully placed furniture, a patterned rug under the coffee table, picture frames on the credenza and the walls — all a variation of the same theme: Jackie and Jeff. Skiing in Aspen, at a black-tie gala, along the shore at the beach: always smiling, always posing, always coordinated. Every surface, every corner, everything scrubbed down to nothing but pure perfection.
It was a showroom. Not a home.
Jeff introduced himself properly to Shauna and Melissa, and, as she studied the details of the living room more closely, Melissa took the liberty of grabbing the bottle of wine from her hand and walked off with him towards the kitchen as he mumbled something about getting a bottle opener.
And then it was Shauna and Jackie.
She stood a few steps away, idly by, hands tangled together as if Shauna's curious stare somehow made her nervous. Shauna's eyes lingered on a tall, freestanding wooden bookshelf, something that was definitely not part of a matching set — a real piece, a hint of soul in the blandness of the room. She brought a hand up to graze the details on the corners — handmade, clearly carefully carved by an actual artist and not a machine, so beautiful, so unique. Something with presence. Something genuine.
“Wow,” she muttered, fingertips still touching the patterns, “this is really something.”
Jackie let out a breathy chuckle from behind her, and the clicking sound of her pumps tapping against the floorboards denounced she’d moved a step closer.
“We got it at an antique store downtown a few years back. Walked past and saw it there, behind the glass and… I just had to have it.” A pause. Then, another chuckle. “It’s the one thing in the house Jeff didn’t get a vote on.”
Shauna stuck her hands in her pockets, turning around to look at her. She stood about 5 feet away from her, arms crossed, a small hint of a smile lingering on her lips.
“Well,” Shauna said, “you have a good eye.”
“I mean, I’m no architect.”
Shauna laughed softly.
“You don’t have to be one to see the beauty in a piece like this.” Her gaze drifted over to the bookshelf again, analyzing the details a bit longer. “It’s got real character, something you wouldn’t come across at a Home Depot.”
Just like that, Melissa and Jeff walked back into the living room, all grins and giggles as if they’d known each other for years instead of minutes. She held the now opened bottle of wine, while he carried two glasses in each hand, tucked between his fingers.
“Maybe you should tell my hard headed husband that.” Jackie teased, a poised smile on her face, seemingly more practiced than the one that ghosted over her demeanor a few seconds before. “Did you hear, Jeff? Apparently my bookshelf has character.”
He smiled brightly, handsome, carefree.
“What, that old thing? The thing that cost me a fortune just because it’s got some fancy shaped holes in it?”
Shauna copied his expression — a nonchalant, forced grin.
“Hey, now. This is a vintage piece, probably from the 20s or 30s from the looks of it. There’s some real history there.”
Melissa huffed, dismissing her with a hand gesture as she walked closer.
“And that’s my wife.” She wrapped her arm around Shauna's waist, hand landing casually on her hip. “Once she starts on joinery and grain patterns, there’s really no stopping her. I’ve learned to just nod and smile.”
“Smart woman.” Jeff laughed, raising the glasses up in the air. “So, who’s up for some wine?”
And, as they all walked away towards the dining room, Jackie turned around. Just for a moment. A small, knowing, weak smile on her lips, intended just for Shauna.
The rest of the evening was as pleasant and torturous as Shauna figured it would have been. Jeff told long stories about work and made lighthearted jokes — only a few tone deaf —, Melissa laughed and complimented the veal as her hand moved to grip Shauna's wrist over the table, and Shauna spent two hours exchanging knowing glances with Jackie, stuck in a constant cabal of seemingly never ending understandings neither of their spouses seemed to pick up on.
At around 11 o’clock, Shauna and her wife stepped out of the Sadecki household, Melissa's hand possessively gripping the back of her sweater, her lips painted a light purple from all the wine she’d had.
“They’re kinda great, right?” She asked, the cool outside breeze adding to the already present flush on her cheeks. “And Jeff, I swear. What a nice guy.”
“Yeah. Yeah, right.”
Later that night, when a very wine-drunk Melissa straddled her hips and wrapped a hand around her jaw in bed, Shauna pressed her eyelids together in pleasure.
And, suddenly, her wife's gorgeous blue eyes weren’t the ones staring back down at her anymore.
No. Instead, she saw a pair of big, hazel ones, round, eager, full of lust and desire and raw want. She wanted to feel bad, she did feel bad — but she didn’t even try to shake off the thoughts. She just bit her tongue, afraid of what name she might say, and let her mind wander, let her body go.
The next morning, when the alcohol had long vanished from her bloodstream, she woke up with a lingering headache and a deep sense of shame. She had been weak. She had confused things. She had betrayed, even if only in her own head, the person she’d sworn herself to years before — the one who stood by her at her wedding with watery eyes as she read her vows, the one who wore the white gold band around her ring finger every day like a promise she hadn’t forgotten, the one who shared her bed every single night, offering her a solid constance even at her worst.
So she looked over at her — bare shoulders poking out from under the comforter, disheveled blonde hair spread over bent arms, back going up and down as she breathed steadily, wrapped up in a peaceful sleep. And Shauna felt horrible. This, actively thinking about someone else, picturing another woman’s face as her wife gave herself to her — it wasn’t right. Even if her marriage wasn’t always great. Even if Melissa’s subtle condescension had been poking at her chest a bit more sharply lately. Even if she’d been constantly catching herself deep in thought these days, more and more, wondering if maybe she shouldn’t have rushed into the decision of getting married, of buying a house, of building this life.
Still, all doubting aside, she was still Melissa's wife. She knew she needed to be better. She owed her at least that.
Therefore, as Melissa fussed for a moment in her sleep, about a palm’s worth of distance separating their bodies on the king sized bed, Shauna made a decision — one that meant doing the hardest thing yet: acting natural. Whatever this magnetic pull she felt towards Jackie was, wherever it came from, she’d simply ignore it — like her own sort of self-sufficient exposure therapy: if she didn’t give it power, it would go away. She’d let the friendship happen, she’d stick close to the only other young couple in her street — hell, she’d even share some gardening tips with Jeff, if he was willing to listen. She would be the perfect neighbor, appropriately polite, nothing but her most charming, pleasant self, until she felt normal again. Until she went back to feeling like herself.
And it worked, at first. She went on about her days the same: seeing Jackie as a constant when she left and when she came back, each morning, each evening. A polite smile and a nod. Casual chats with subtle remarks over leaky hoses and stubborn lawnmowers on weekends. Offering her insight on some landscaping project Jeff poked her brain with. The perfect sport, the perfect neighbor, the perfect friend.
Most of all, she had been trying to reignite the spark she felt she had been missing with Melissa — subtly, focused on the details, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It had been… frustrating, to say the least. The thing is, Melissa hadn’t made one big mistake, but, instead, there had been a series of delicate cracks in the glass that were getting harder and harder to look past. The other day, for instance — Shauna had called her up, told her she’d been able to get off work early, took hours tidying up the whole place just so she’d come home to a clean house. All she had to do was pick up dinner on her way back. And she did — fettuccine from that Italian place next to where she worked, Tino’s or Tony’s or whatever it was called, the one Shauna had actively told her a few days earlier she’d cut off because it made her stomach ache. Even though her favorite Thai place was right next to it. But, hey, it was an honest mistake. So Shauna forced a smile, ate the pasta anyway, listened while she told her all about her day, secretly battling the inevitable heartburn that made itself present within minutes.
Or when she couldn’t prop a window open and had the brilliant idea to use not one, but two of Shauna's very expensive, architect-graded pencils in order to do so. Shauna found the evidence later — of course she did, because Melissa hadn’t even bothered trying to hide it: lead-colored dust, points shattered, two ruined pencils on the sill. It made her chest burn and her head throb with irritation, but she swallowed it. She doesn’t know. It’s not a big deal. That’s what marriage is, letting the small stuff go. Even though it didn’t feel small. Even though Shauna wanted to scream.
Still, she persevered, sought out solace in the good moments, made herself willing to brush off her backhanded remarks and clear lack of interest in most of the things she said. Because she hadn’t exactly been the best spouse, either. Because she felt this soul crushing guilt flow through her whenever she looked at her.
On a particular Wednesday, Shauna stopped at the grocery store after work, needing to stock up on a few items that were missing from her pantry, absentmindedly pushing a half empty cart down the cereal aisle. As she analyzed the nutrition facts on the back of one of those brown, earthy, organic boxes, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, followed by a warm smile and a velvety voice.
“Hey, neighbor.” Jackie said playfully, hand still on her shoulder right over the fabric of her jacket, pulling the most automatic, instinctive grin ever from her lips. “That brand’s no good. Don’t let the fiber percentage fool you, it’s like eating very healthy pieces of cardboard.”
Shauna let out a breathy chuckle, ignoring the tingling sensation in her stomach — sticking to her plan.
“Huh. For these prices, I figured it’d at least resemble something more tasteful. Plywood, maybe?”
Jackie laughed gracefully, finally pulling her hand away from her, letting it settle over the handle of her own cart.
“Oh, no. Definitely cardboard. Trust me.” She leaned an inch forward, and a single lock of hair fell beautifully over the side of her face as if it had a mind of its own. “Fancy seeing you here. Checking out one of the neighborhood’s hottest landmarks?”
“What, the grocery store?”
“Didn’t you hear? It’s, like, the hangout spot of all the retired grandpas and overworked toddler moms. Havenwood’s finest only.” That easy smile stayed painted on her lips at every sentence she spoke, so natural, so majestic.
“Oh, I can see that.” Shauna joined in on the joke. “The bread aisle was basically a party.”
Jackie tucked that loose strand behind her ear.
“So, while I have you,” she said casually, “I’ve actually got some really valuable information I think you’d like to hear.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Jeff brought in takeout from some Italian restaurant the other night. The one on Maple, cute little place, with the red brick front?”
Shauna nodded.
“Turns out it’s actually good. Not overdone on the garlic, quality ingredients. And most of their stuff is plant-based, so it’s light on the stomach.” She shrugged. “Way better than Tino’s. Figured you’d be interested.”
And, God. Of course. Of course she remembered.
It had been a casual conversation. One over her fence, as Shauna walked down the street to put away takeout containers in the recycling bin, one that lasted no more than five minutes. At least two weeks before. She’d mentioned lightly that she was looking for a good Italian spot nearby, that she didn’t really like the food at Tino’s. Something she’d told Melissa about three times before, and she still didn’t listen.
But Jackie remembered. A small thing she’d told her casually. Once. Weeks before.
All Shauna could do was clear her throat and smile again.
“Oh. Yeah. Uh, I’ll keep that in mind.”
As the days went by, she tried not to let that interaction affect her too much. In fact, she spent most of her time trying to think of anything else, just so it could stay as far away from her mind as possible. Needless to say it didn’t really work.
But she kept going, sticking to her plan, acting normal. Following the script. Doing it by the book, checking all the boxes, making sure she didn’t step out of line.
Until a couple of weeks later, on a random Thursday.
Shauna had taken a detour from the usual route on her way home from work, for no particular reason other than the fact that Melissa had been an absolute nightmare that week. She had been stressed about something at her job — nothing life changing, just a petty feud with a co-worker Shauna had been patiently hearing about for over a month, but, lately, she’d started taking her frustration out on her more often. It was subtle, but constant: impatient huffs whenever Shauna said something that didn’t interest her, cutting her off to talk about her problems instead, snapping, rude undertones hidden beneath conceited comments. Shauna didn’t feel like enduring it, she couldn’t, not that night. She’d had a particularly hard day at the firm, one of those, when nothing seemed to work in her favor — and it really wasn’t the time for Melissa to test her patience.
So she texted her a white lie, said she’d be out for happy hour with her co-workers, even snuck in a little comment on how she “had to go because her boss was going to be there”, trying to appear more believable. Melissa didn’t seem to mind — honestly, Shauna felt like her wife could use the break from her, too.
But there was no happy hour, no bar, no drinks with her boss. Just her. Walking around with her hands in her pockets, stopping at a coffee shop for a warm cup of chai and a soft pretzel, stalling, putting off going home.
It was nearly 8 PM when she decided it was finally time to get in her car and drive back to Havenwood. By then, the universe had decided to punish her for lying to her wife in the worst way possible — with rain, strong and heavy, the whole sky falling in that God awful way that made it hard to see more than two feet ahead of her windshield, especially when it was already dark out. If traffic wasn’t bad enough on regular days, it turned into absolute hell when it rained — and Shauna just sighed behind the wheel, turning up the volume on the radio, figuring it was probably what she deserved.
Normally, she’d take the shorter route home — cut in through commercial and residential streets, not leaving town, one way in, one way out. But, given the current situation, she made a last-minute decision to take the exit that led off to the highway, adding a few miles to her drive, but skipping the chaos that probably settled itself along the regular path.
It wasn’t until she was about to take the exit back into town that she spotted the Sadeckis’ black BMW stopped by the side of the road, hood popped up, hazard lights flashing brightly amidst the heavy rain. And then, like the cherry on top of a very elaborate cosmic joke, she saw her — Jackie Sadecki, dripping wet from head to toe, arm up and swinging around, waving a phone flashlight in a desperate arc to warn oncoming traffic. Even through the watery, fogged up curtain on the windshield, Shauna recognized her silhouette, the way she carried herself, the familiar coat. It was her.
She didn’t think — just swerved the wheel immediately, pulling over a few feet ahead of her, hand hastily drifting to the backseat to grab the umbrella she kept around for emergencies.
“Jackie!” She called over as she ran up in her direction, the bright green umbrella now above her head. “Get in here!”
Jackie's eyes widened in a mix of surprise and relief when she turned around and saw her, an audible gasp coming out of her mouth, and she quickly closed the distance, moving to get under her umbrella.
Shauna didn’t ask, not at first. From the way her body shivered, she just knew she had to get her somewhere warmer.
“Come on.” She said, instinctively pushing the umbrella further in Jackie's direction and consequently away from herself, not caring about getting wet in the process. “Get in my car.”
She moved fast, opened the passenger door for her in a swift move, made sure she got all the way in before walking around the car and stepping into the driver’s seat.
“Jesus,” Jackie finally said, panting and breathless, still trembling, “it’s pouring out there.”
Shauna cranked up the heat and stretched her arm out for an old jacket untouched on the backseat — one that had been there for weeks, inside of a plastic bag, under the excuse that she’d eventually take it to a tailor to get the zipper fixed.
“It’s not a towel,” she handed the jacket to her, “but it’s the closest I can give you right now.”
“Thanks,” Jackie huffed, taking it, immediately pulling off her own drenched coat so she could place it around her shivering shoulders, “it’s perfect.”
They both stayed quiet for a moment as Jackie’s breathing finally evened out, Shauna's gaze curiously set on her dripping hair, her wet face. It was the first time she’d seen her so… messy. Not in a bad way — but, for once, less polished. More real.
“So,” Shauna finally broke the silence between the two of them, which had previously been filled only by the low music that played from the radio, “you gonna tell me what you were doing by the side of the road or…?”
Jackie let out a chuckle, breathy, leaning an inch forward, shaking her head slightly.
“Right, of course.” She said, voice raspier than usual. “That fucking car. It was supposed to be a quick trip downtown. I just had some errands to run. And then… well, then my headlights started dimming and the engine started sputtering.”
Shauna let her keep going.
“When I pulled over, the engine just… stopped. Completely died out. And so I got out of the car to check and, you guessed it, I just had to shut the damn fucking door. I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping another car from crashing into it or whatever.”
Shauna started to understand where the conversation was headed.
“You got locked out.”
“I got locked out. Right as the floodgates of heaven decided to open.” One single nod, accompanied by a sarcastic smile — not directed to Shauna, but to the absurdity of the situation. “Battery issue, apparently, according to the guy from the towing company.”
“You already called a tow truck?”
Jackie let out a chuckle.
“Yeah… they said two hours. Maybe more with the weather.”
“You were gonna stand for two hours in the rain?
Jackie nodded.
“I was. Until a God-sent knight in a station wagon showed up out of nowhere.”
Shauna smiled at her — warm, just like the inside of the car, genuine.
After a beat, Jackie sighed softly, averting her eyes towards the dashboard.
“This just had to happen on the one night I take the car. Jeff’s the one who’s always driving it around, then he leaves town for a few days and… well, here I am. He’s gonna talk my ear off.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Try telling him that.” Jackie let out a scoff, both hands on her thighs. Then, she straightened her back just a bit, turning her head towards Shauna, but not letting her eyes meet her face. Instead, they remained focused on the stick shift. “Sorry. He’s just… difficult. When it comes to money.”
Shauna knew better than to ask. Knew she shouldn’t pry. But she didn’t have to — Jackie continued on her own.
“I asked the guy from the towing company. You know this could end in a thousand dollar fee? He’ll never let me live this down.” She shook her head. “Even though it’s not my fault exactly, he… he’s got a way of making it sound like that, you know? He’s too fixed on numbers. On the price of things. On how to get the best bargain.”
Shauna didn’t know what to say, so she just muttered:
“He does work in finance.”
Jackie let out a soft laugh.
“No, it’s not that. He can go all out when he wants. Just last month, he forgot our anniversary. Then, the next day, I came home to a designer handbag waiting for me on the bed.” A pause. “Still, he barely takes me out on dates anymore. Says fancy restaurants are a ploy to extort hardworking guys like him.”
Shauna's heart ached as she took in her sad demeanor, her hunched shoulders, the subtle hurt in her voice. She couldn’t say she was surprised — Jeff never struck her as the model husband —, but she was definitely intrigued as to how he could have been so dismissive of her, especially when she knew he was well off, that his finance job paid a fat, generous salary. It translated into his car, his house, his tailored suits, even the designer bag Jackie mentioned. It wasn’t a matter of not having, it was a matter of prioritizing, of putting all his money into appearances, into a fake front, into half-assed, guilt-motivated gifts.
And it made so, so much sense.
“God, look at me, I’m— I’m being so inconvenient.” Jackie spoke again. “Making you sit in the middle of the highway, at almost 9 PM, listening to my marital problems when you have your own wife to go home to. Jesus. Just— just leave me here. Seriously.”
“What? Leave you out in the rain? No.”
“It’s fine, really.” She adjusted the jacket around herself, as if bracing to get back out in the downpour. “I’m not gonna make you wait two hours.”
“No, Jackie, that’s ridiculous. I’m not just gonna leave you out there, you’re gonna freeze to death.”
“It’s okay. You gave me a dry jacket, I’ll survive.” She offered Shauna a smile, or the ghost of one, small, subtle. “Go home. Melissa’s probably worried about you. I know I’d be.”
Shauna let out an incredulous, breathy laugh.
“Melissa’ll be fine. She’s probably binging Desperate Housewives and thanking God she got a little break from me.” A beat. “You’re not the only one with marital problems, you know.”
That seemed to get her attention — for the first time in minutes, her eyes finally landed on Shauna's face.
“What do you mean?”
It was Shauna's turn to scoff.
“Well, I may have lied to her about happy hour just so I could put off going home for a few hours.”
But that wasn’t enough for Jackie.
“...Why?”
Shauna sighed.
“She’s been… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like we’re just two roommates who have sex occasionally. It feels like I’m just… stuck in the background, you know? Like she doesn’t know me at all.”
When Jackie didn’t answer, those big hazel eyes focused on her, Shauna continued:
“I don’t know. Between you and me?” She asked, inching just a bit closer, in response to which Jackie nodded. “Sometimes I think I might’ve gotten married a little too young. Maybe I shouldn’t have rushed into it.”
She couldn’t tell exactly what it was that made her open up like this. Maybe it was the stress of the week — no, the month, building up slowly inside her chest every time Melissa made a condescending comment. Maybe it was the bubble she found herself in, inside her car, heat on, almost unable to see the outside world because of how much rain poured on her windshield. Maybe it was the pair of round, mesmerizing hazel eyes staring back at her — making her feel bare, making her feel seen, for a change.
And Jackie understood her — it was clear in the way she laughed, quick, breathy, humorless.
“Tell me about it. Jeff and I got married the year after we graduated college. He got down on one knee and I just… said yes. I didn’t know what else to say.” She shook her head, a wry smile on her lips as if she’d told a tasteless joke. “I was twenty-two. God, it feels like a lifetime ago.”
Once again, Shauna nodded, understanding the feeling all too well.
Still, as the words hung in the air between them, that knowing, old guilt panged at her chest. It felt disloyal, she was speaking of Melissa as if she hadn’t been carrying a world of secrets within her over the past couple of months, as if she were perfect — which was far from the truth.
“Well. We have our problems,” she said, the words softer now, “but I’m being unfair. She’s not all bad. And I’m not the best spouse in the world, either.”
“Please. I’d kill for Jeff to be as attentive with me as you are with her.” Jackie leaned back against the car seat, eyes still stuck on Shauna's face. “I see it, you know? The way you treat her. The way you actually listen when she talks. The way you don’t even need to be asked when she needs something. You just… do.”
Shauna narrowed her eyes. Jackie continued:
“I first saw it when you two came over for dinner. You kept her wine glass full, you handed her a napkin before she even reached for the holder… when she shivered, you immediately asked if we could turn up the thermostat.” She let out a small chuckle. “If I’d said I was cold, Jeff would have told me to put on a sweater.”
Her words hit Shauna like a physical blow. Wow. All this time, all the things she did, all the things she knew went by completely unnoticed by Melissa…
Jackie saw everything.
Shauna couldn’t remember the last time she felt so validated. Or if she’d ever even felt that way at all.
She cleared her throat, suddenly unsure of what to say.
“Jackie, that’s…” She stopped, unable to find the right words. “Wow. I didn’t— I didn’t know anyone saw that.”
“It’s kind of hard to miss, honestly.” She said, letting out a huffed breath. “And if I’m being really honest, Jeff and I had a pretty big fight that night after you left. I guess seeing the way you were with her just… I don’t know, it kind of rubbed in my face all I’d been missing from him.”
“Oh. I never meant to—”
“No, no, please don’t apologize for being a good wife. Please.” She shook her head. “It’s not your fault he’s so… neglectful. I guess seeing you in action just kind of put a magnifying glass over his flaws.”
A silence installed itself between them, heavy with both of their confessions — but strangely shared now, not burdensome. Maybe they needed to get those unspoken, dragged out feelings off of their chests, maybe that’s what this whole coincidental meetup was about. Maybe that’s why it rained — so Shauna would take the long way home. So she’d have an excuse to sit in this car with her, to see her, to allow herself to be seen.
“Anyway,” Jackie finally broke the silence, her voice lighter, “I’m getting lost in my own drama. Just… thank you. Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”
Shauna smiled at her.
“Don’t mention it. Think of it as retribution for those heavenly cookies you baked me the day I moved into the neighborhood.”
She laughed, her eyes drifting away from Shauna and towards the center console.
“About that…” A pause. “Those were store bought. I only plated them up like that for flair.”
Shauna laughed, too, bringing a flat hand to her own chest in feigned offense.
“You brought me store bought cookies? The absolute nerve.”
Jackie's smile widened, a real one, the kind that made the corners of her eyes crinkle up.
“I know, I know. How very horrible of me.” She raised her hands in a playful act of surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t know I was gonna like you this much. If I had known, I would’ve baked them from scratch.”
It was Shauna's turn to flash her a big, stupid grin.
Another wave of silence hit them both — this time, lighter. Comfortable. Natural.
But Jackie broke it once again.
“Since we’re making confessions,” she looked over at Shauna out of the corner of her eye, “can I tell you something?”
Shauna adjusted herself on the driver’s seat, pointing her whole torso in her direction.
“Sure.”
She giggled, contained and somewhat sheepish, as if bracing herself to say whatever she was about to.
“That day… I didn’t bring you those cookies just because you and Melissa were ‘the new young couple’.” She made air quotes with her hands. “I, uh, I saw you a few weeks before, actually. Visiting the house. Talking to the realtor. And then, when I saw the moving truck that morning… I don’t know, I just wanted to meet you.”
A beat. Shauna was practically on the edge of her seat, waiting for her to finish.
And then:
“To be honest, I think I had a little crush.” She finally confessed, biting her lip for just a second, head tilted forward as her eyes moved up to meet Shauna. “Harmless, you know.”
And that did it.
All of a sudden, Shauna forgot how to breathe. The adrenaline ran so fast through her veins that the increase in her heart rate came immediately — so fast, so loud she could feel it in her ears. She just looked at her, rethinking every moment since that hot summer afternoon: the random meetups, the casual smiles, the coincidence of her standing on her front lawn every day and every night, just as she drove by, like clockwork.
Except, it was no coincidence at all.
Needing to hear it again, to make sure she wasn’t imagining things, she spoke, soft with revelation:
“Wait. So all that… the cookies… it was all just a plan to meet me?”
Jackie nodded, shrugging, giving into the truth now that she’d already been caught.
“An effective one, apparently.”
Shauna couldn’t help the slow, disbelieving, breathy laugh that left her lips.
“Wow.” Then, a pause. A deep breath — and a surge of courage induced by her neighbor’s honesty streak. “Well, since we’re being honest.”
She smirked. “Yes?”
“Maybe… perhaps… I felt it too, you know. A little crush. Harmless.”
And Jackie just smiled. Conspiratorial, warm, inviting — as if she already knew.
But, of course, the real world is no fairy tale — which became very clear very soon, when the sound of someone knocking on the tinted window made her whole car tremble.
A man, probably in his late forties, holding up a black umbrella and wearing a polo shirt that read “Bill’s Tow Trucks” right over his chest.
“Oh!” Jackie exclaimed, sitting up straighter, as if something had physically shook her. “Would you look at that. They’re early.”
She didn’t sound happy. She didn’t sound relieved. She didn’t sound the least bit pleased.
No. She sounded disappointed.
As if they were both just about to get to where she wanted, and the sudden bursting of their bubble would leave her unresolved. Discontent. Wanting more, even though she wouldn’t say it.
Even though neither of them would say it.
“Yeah.” Shauna muttered, a bit too unenthusiastically, matching her tone. “They are.”
So they said goodbye. Not because they wanted to, but because they had to. Jackie was still wearing her jacket, and Shauna let her take the umbrella. She only pulled away from the side of the road once she saw Jackie get in the truck, once the man who knocked on her window managed to hook the BMW and drive away — Shauna stuck around, hoping something would change, hoping the truck would somehow face battery problems, too. Anything to stay a moment longer. Anything not to go home, not now, not like this.
But she had to go. It was her life. And her wife was waiting for her.
When she got home, she still hadn’t dried off all the way. Her car was dangerously low on gas from how long she’d just left it in park with the heat on. She was unsure if she’d run a red light, the one a few streets down from hers, by the elementary school — she honestly didn’t remember. She only had one thought.
Jackie Sadecki.
She fumbled with her keys, breathing shakily, heavily as she opened the front door. Melissa, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, didn’t look at her at first — instead, her eyes drifted away from the television towards her phone screen, then back to the TV.
“Happy hour ran late.”
Shauna cleared her throat.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry. Guess I must’ve lost track of time.”
She finally paused the TV, looking over at Shauna as she hung her damp sweater on the hook behind the door.
“Jesus. You look like a drowned rat. I thought you were getting drinks?”
Shauna nodded, quiet, careful.
“I was. Just… had some car trouble on the way. It’s already taken care of.”
Melissa let out a short sigh, one of someone being burdened with an unwanted problem, that familiar, well known irritated expression taking over her face.
“Please don’t tell me it was anything expensive. We just bought this place, can’t be splurging out on the car, too.”
Not asking her if she was okay. Not thanking her for fixing the alleged issue. Just worried about the cost.
Shauna simply shook her head, crossing the living room in small steps.
“Insurance had it covered.” She paused for a second at the bottom of the staircase, one hand lingering tiredly over the railing. “Uh, I’m pretty beat. Gonna go take a shower and then I guess I’ll just turn in for the night.”
“Sure, babe.” She said, eyes immediately back on the television. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll stay here a little longer.”
The next few weeks were absolutely torturous.
With Jackie, the banter was gone. The friendship and the innocent smiles had been completely cut, giving space to something heavier, something charged. Longing stares as Shauna stepped outside to collect her mail on Saturday mornings, a held gaze that lasted a second too long when she drove past her house and there she was, watering the same blue hydrangeas. An atmosphere that had quietly yet earth-shatteringly surpassed the stage of a harmless little crush and become an entirely different thing: a constant, itching, skin-crawling hum of want, always there, like a small flicker that, given the right amount of fuel, could quickly develop into an explosion.
And when it came to Melissa — God. Shauna didn’t know what she would do.
Since that night, since the confessions in her car over faint music and rain sounds, she had completely stopped trying to reignite the spark she felt she had been missing. It wasn’t a conscious choice, not exactly — but more of an inevitable one, one she couldn’t help, one that couldn’t be forced anymore. The effort alone felt like a betrayal: of herself, of the truth she carried in her chest, even of Melissa, somehow. She’d felt she’d reach the point of no return — and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to walk backwards, now.
And, because she wasn’t really trying anymore, of course the mood inside her walls had become increasingly more hostile as the days went by. Sad attempts at conversations turned into a minefield of weary sighs and subtle snaps. The distance on the king sized bed grew an extra inch every night. The entire house was a giant eggshell, and she felt like she was wearing tap dancing shoes. Deep down, she knew it was hopeless. It was way too hard to come back from there.
So, when Melissa announced she was driving two towns over to visit her sister for the weekend, the relief in Shauna's chest was so sharp it blended into a familiar guilt. Still wearing her good wife costume, even though it was ripped at the seams, she carried her suitcase to the car and stood idly by as she adjusted the rearview mirror. Before she left, Shauna leaned over the window, pressing a dry, lifeless, empty peck to her lips — a performance, one she put on for her and for herself, a substitute for the awkward silence as both of them figured out just how to buy some time until they couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.
Once her taillights disappeared in the distance, Shauna looked up.
And there was Jackie.
A hand on the golden pendant she kept around her neck, eyes fixed on her — some sort of mix between desire and a frown, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted. Unreadable. Beautiful, as always.
Shauna stared back at her for just a second before leaning her head down and walking back inside.
That night, she felt a little bit lighter. It was the first time in weeks she hadn’t needed to carefully craft not only what she was going to say, but how she was going to say it. As horrible as it felt to admit, Melissa’s absence lifted a weight off her chest. A weight that had been there a long time.
Still, the white gold band felt as if it burned a hole through her ring finger.
She ignored it. Reheated some leftover pizza for dinner, worked on an unfinished sketch she’d been stuck on, played her music on the living room stereo — the songs Melissa always complained were too whimsical for her taste.
A few minutes past midnight, the knock came. Rushed. Like a sound that could vanish into the wind if you weren’t paying enough attention.
Somehow, she just knew she had to answer.
Once she opened the door, there she was. Standing on her front porch, wrapped in a cardigan that was no match for the cold breeze, hair disheveled as if she’d been running her hands through it. In her eyes, not politeness. Not contentment.
Resolve. Want. Determination.
She didn’t wait for Shauna to let her in — just slipped right past her, standing in her living room with clenched fists at her sides.
“Jackie, what the—”
“I couldn’t stay there.”
“What are you—”
She walked over to where Shauna stood dumbfounded at the doorframe, an arm moving right past her and shutting the door completely.
“I couldn’t stay there,” she repeated, voice low and husky and shaking with an intensity Shauna hadn’t seen come from her before, “not like this. Not when I knew you were here. Alone. Not after watching you kiss her like it meant nothing today.”
Jackie stood so close Shauna could feel the way her breath ghosted over her lips.
“Jackie…”
“It’s been weeks of this… torture. Of pretending I don’t see you everywhere I look. Of pretending I don’t notice the way you look at me.”
Shauna couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t react. All she could do was stand there, not daring to pull away, not daring to end the moment. Feeling the way her chest heaved with each breath. Feeling the way her heart pounded and her ears buzzed.
“He’s been driving me crazy. Crazy. And today, he just had to go and… fuck. It doesn’t matter.” She took a step closer, if that was even possible. “He’s been driving me crazy because he’s not you. And I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.”
A pause.
She grabbed Shauna's hand with both of hers, bringing it over to her chest as Shauna just stared at her with a stunned expression on her face. Her heart was hammering.
“God, look what you’re doing to me. Do you feel it? Do you feel how much of a mess you’ve made me?” Her grip was tight around Shauna's hand, holding it against the fabric of her cardigan as if she was afraid she’d pull away. “So, it’s up to you now. I’m here. Make it make sense or tell me to leave, but I couldn’t stay there.”
That was the incentive Shauna needed.
Her free hand moved almost instinctively to the back of Jackie's neck as she pulled her into her, closing the torturous distance, lips finally touching after wanting for so long.
And, God. It was electric.
The world around Shauna narrowed to the taste of Jackie — wine and peppermint, but also something else. Something that was hers, something so unique and raw and so good Shauna could cry. Suddenly, nothing around them mattered anymore. Not the stolen glances, not the guilt, not the ring around her finger.
Her whole world was Jackie Sadecki.
“I knew it,” she whispered breathlessly, desperately against her lips, “I knew you felt the same.”
“Don’t talk.” Shauna said in the same tone, not mean, but completely taken over by her desire for her. “Just kiss me.”
And she did.
She kissed her in the middle of the living room, she kissed her up against the wall, she kissed her as they stumbled up the stairs in a mess of scattered clothes and muffled whimpers, her hands roaming all over Shauna's body, tugging at her shirt as if it had personally wronged her. When they finally reached the second floor, Shauna's hands tight around her waist, she instinctively turned toward the master bedroom.
But Jackie wrapped a firm fist around her wrist, stopping her, looking up at her face with half-lidded eyes and reddened lips.
“No.” She muttered, voice thick with need. “Not there. Take me somewhere else. Somewhere you haven’t touched her.”
So Shauna quickly changed her route, guiding her into the guest room.
Hours later, after she and Jackie had finally completely given into desire, after the last barrier between the two of them had fallen away, the sky outside slowly blended into a deep lilac, and the first birds started threatening to sing.
They were both sweaty, their steadying breaths filling the silence in the room. Jackie was curled against Shauna's side, head on her chest, arm over her bare stomach, tracing idle patterns on her skin. Shauna knew she had to leave soon. She knew that, with morning, along came responsibilities. Along came her marriage. Along came Jeff.
But, in the stillness and quiet of their bubble, reality settled over Shauna. And what she felt — it wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t shame. Not this time. It was clarity. An all consuming, exhilarating clarity that made her want to get up out of bed and scream out loud.
But she didn’t. Instead, she leaned her head down, brushing her lips against Jackie's silky hair.
Then, after a second, she just whispered:
“Jackie.” A pause. “Leave him.”
Jackie's grip tightened around her, body stiffening immediately once she heard her words. It wasn’t until Shauna shifted around to look at her face that she noticed a single, lonesome, stray tear rolling down her cheek.
“It’s not that simple.” Hoarse, low, quiet.
Right. How could she have been so stupid?
Shauna's heart dropped in her chest.
However, against all odds:
“But… yeah.” Jackie whispered. “I’m not going back to him. Not ever. Not after this.”
And, as Jackie reached over to grab her hand, the noise inside Shauna's head stopped, giving space to a long awaited, peaceful, rewarding quiet.
Because, sure — she didn’t know what would happen next. There would be pain, there would be screaming, there would be tears. But, for the first time, she wasn’t afraid of the mess. She was finally alive inside of it, sharing it with someone who saw her, with someone who understood.
And, in that moment, Jackie's hand in hers was the only thing that mattered.