Therese
The apartment felt unfamiliarly empty. After Genevieve had put the last cardboard box into the small van she had lent from a friend back in Cambridge, she had returned one last time, the keys to the apartment in her hand.
“Well, that’s it…”
Therese did not know what to say. Her hands in the pockets of her black jeans, she looked at the woman who had been her friend, roommate and occasional lover ever since they had met at a small women’s bar in Williamsburg ten years ago. Therese had been instantly attracted by Gen’s cheerful and generous personality and was easily accepted in her extensive and tightly knit circle of friends. Their living together at the small Brooklyn apartment came as close to a family life as Therese, who had been raised by various foster parents, had ever experienced. She loved Genevieve for opening her heart and life to her and would forever be grateful for that. But she also knew that she did not love Genevieve enough to be her life partner.
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Only a few hours after she returned from Utah, Gen had already called Therese. Therese had resisted the urge not to answer, knowing very well that Gen would persist until she would. Their conversation had been tense, both remembering their sad goodbye only a week before. After she had given a brief and somewhat superficial account of her stay in Salt Lake City, Therese remained silent for a few moments, aware of Genevieve’s edgy breathing at the other side of line. She closed her eyes before taking the step she knew was inevitable.
“Gen, I.. I’ve met someone when I was in Utah.”
Genevieve did not answer, forcing Therese to continue.
“I wasn’t looking for it, it was … she …”
She tried to find the words to describe the emotions that meeting Carol had caused, but was interrupted by Genevieve.
“Don’t, Therese. I don’t want to know.”
The pain in her voice was almost unbearable.
“Gen, I don’t want to hurt you…”
“But you do… Look Therese, when I left for Cambridge I kept hoping that in the end you would join me, that we would have a life together there. But you didn’t and then things started to change between us, even though I didn’t want to see it. I know you love me, Therese, but I also know that we are just not meant to be …”
She sighed.
“And God, I sometimes hate you for that …”
They both remained silent. Therese could hear how Gen tried to fight back her tears, when she continued.
“I will come by to fetch my stuff from the apartment. I don’t think she will like it when …
“Carol”, Therese whispered, “Her name is Carol.”
“Please, I don’t want to know…”
And then Genevieve had broken the connection.
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Genevieve put the keys on the table, then turned her soft brown eyes to Therese. She smiled, a sad smile that did not reach her eyes. Therese tried to return the smile, but failed miserably.
“Take care, Therese.”
For a brief moment Genevieve’s hand touched Therese’s cheek, then she turned and walked to the door, gently closing it behind her.
Listening to Genevieve’s receding footsteps in the corridor, Therese let the tears she had tried to hide the entire afternoon, stream down her cheeks. Was losing Genevieve the price she had to pay for Carol to become a part of her life? Their friendship was one of the key parts of her existence in New York and she did not want to give up on it. She hoped Gen just needed some time to get used to the changes in Therese’s life and they could resume their relationship in a new way.
Using the sleeve of her green t-shirt to wipe away the tears, she allowed herself to confront the fears that had crawled into her mind only a few days after she had returned from Salt Lake City. What if Carol had second thoughts? What if she would not come to New York? What if she had only been a fling to her? She knew that not being with Carol caused these doubts, but it was difficult to fight them. If only she could call or text her. But it had been her own proposition not to see each other for four weeks…
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of her IPhone, the Star Wars theme heralding a call from Dannie.
“Yo girl, you okay?”
She smiled. Dannie knew that Gen was going to pick up her stuff today and was calling her now to make sure she was all right.
“Not really…”
“Wanna talk about it, or do you just want to get drunk?”
Beneath his buoyancy Therese could sense his genuine concern.
“Both, I guess.”
“Then get here as fast as you can.”
He mentioned the name of a small café near the Times, where they frequently went after work. He was probably there to keep Grace, his girlfriend and one of the bartenders, company. She liked the somewhat shabby but welcoming atmosphere of the bar. It would be a good place to start healing.
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Therese put her phone on the table, next to Gen’s keys and went to the bathroom. Standing in front of the sink she sprinkled some cold water on her face, that was still red from her tears. Mingled with her grief about Gen, there was now a severe and very physical longing for Carol, for her elegant and sensual body, her piercing blue eyes that sometimes seemed to see right through her, her warm voice that could melt ice. With a sigh she leaned her forehead against the mirror. Two more weeks to go.