Cheater

Ahh, Saige, ikkichi, and Milly, thank you all for reviewing. :) You all are my reasons for continuing. ^_^ And those who rated, thank you as well!



I will be doing a third installment to this soon, so this isn\'t the last chapter. Hope you like this one. :)



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"So," the woman says, returning to the room I\'m in with two steaming mugs in her hands, "what are you doing way out here? And during a storm! Careful, it\'s hot."



I cradle the cup in my wool-covered hands and take a sip, burning my tongue in the process but tasting a bit of the sweet apple cider on my other taste buds. As I set the mug back into my lap, I tell her, "My sister, supposedly, doesn\'t live much farther from here. I may have taken a wrong turn, though. It was hard to hear her on the phone before the connection was lost."



She nods understandingly. "Yes, the service is horrible around here, so most of us have landlines."



Glancing away to my cider, I nod too. "Oh, and that storm? No idea it was going to be that bad," I say with a weak laugh. "I had a feeling this weekend would be shitty."



The woman\'s lip curls in amusement at my cursing, making me blush for using it. "You wanted to come out to the \'burbs for the weekend?"



I snort a laugh. "Oh no, not me. My sister is a very persistent woman."



She smiles still and brings her legs underneath her as she continues to listen to me, examine me. I\'m usually not this open around people, honestly. I think it\'s her intense beauty that\'s making me open up. She makes me feel warm inside, something I\'ve missed greatly, but I continue to remind myself that there\'s a reason I\'m out here. A reason that looking at women, especially the extremely attractive ones, is currently forbidden.



And, yet, I still can\'t keep myself quiet. Or calm.



"What\'s your sister\'s name?" the woman asks out of curiosity.



I take another sip of my cider before saying, "Kelly Timber."



She looks heavenward and purses her soft lips. "That doesn\'t ring a bell, but, judging by her sister, I would have to say she\'s a sweet woman."



I blush and try to conceal it with the mug as I take one more drink.



"What is your name, then, Miss Timber?" is her next inquisition.



After coughing into my drink, I laugh and clear my throat. "No no no no, my sister is married, so Timber is her husband\'s name. My name is Julie O\'Mara."



"Oh." Her smile spreads. "That\'s a lovely name."



I roll my eyes. "My real name is Juliette, but it\'s too Shakespearean for me," I mutter.



She giggles. "Juliette? Really? Aw, that\'s darling!"



Her laugh is very kind and sweet. And she has laugh lines, too. She\'s beautiful.



"Does Juliette have a Romeo, then?"



My cheeks warm again. I peer away and shake my head. "Romeo and Juliette have recently split up, actually..."



Out of the corner of my eye, I see the woman\'s jaw drop. "Oh, honey, I am so sorry."



I smile weakly. "It\'s alright," I lie. "I had to end it. It was just..." Using one hand to hold the handle of the cider, I use the other to run through my mane of hair to relieve myself from the new rush of old emotions.



"If you don\'t mind me prying," she says, "what did he do?"



I laugh quietly. "Well, she cheated on me," I confess, releasing two of my greatest flaws -- my sexuality and the reason for the current scar upon my heart.



There\'s silence from the other side of the couch. Not that I\'m surprised. Not everyone takes homosexuality in an easy, understanding manner. Why was I dumb enough to even think that she, a woman I hardly knew, would be sympathetic?



"I\'m sorry," I mumble, putting the mug down on the coffee table and shimmying out of the wool blanket. "I think I\'ve overstayed my welcome..."



As my hand rests on the cushion beside me, I feel the pressure of another palm on top of it. With a gasp, I turn and see those forest green eyes looking back. "Why would you think that?" she asks me, perfectly-drawn eyebrows furrowing across her forehead.



My mouth opens but I\'m speechless. Her hand is so soft. Warm. I don\'t think I\'m breathing.



"You don\'t," she says, "think I\'ll be accepting of your sexuality, Julie?"



My body shivers. I want her to say my name again.



No no no, wait. I told myself that I wouldn\'t do this. I had to grieve and heal before moving on to someone else. This was going impeccably fast. Too fast.



"Are you alright, Julie?"



Another shiver. My panties are damp.



Before this can continue, I swallow and ask, "May I use your, um... restroom?"



Her dark hair bounces on her shoulders as she nods. "I\'ll show you where it is."



She lifts her hand from mine and ascends from the seat, stepping smoothly around the coffee table. I gradually follow her lead by standing up and trailing behind her through the archway to our left where the kitchen is situated. Beyond this room is a short hallway that leads to a staircase and two doors.



The woman holds out her hand to the first closed door and smiles slightly. "Take your time," she tells me, and I can see her eyes casting along more than just my eyes this time. My cheeks, my lips, my jaw, my neck. When her eyes meet mine again, there\'s no sign of shame amongst the forest green. Unashamed.



"Th-thank you..." I stammer, my breath wavering as I reach blindingly for the doorknob. I finally grasp it and laugh meekly, slipping past the thin object, and shutting her from view.



I place my ear against the wooden door and listen, hearing the footfalls retreating into another part of the house, and then I slump down to the floor. I take a long moment to catch my irregular breath, gazing at myself in her full-length mirror. My hair is tattered; my make-up is in clumps and streaks; my outfit isn\'t even appealing in the least. The way she was looking at me was friendly, yes, but... much more than that. I had no idea what was enticing her, honestly. Unless I was reading it all wrong. And I probably was.



I let a few minutes tick by before I stand from my spot on the linoleum and turn the knob. I take a quick glance down the hall to the stairs but see no one, so I walk on down the way I was led back into the kitchen. Upon entering, I peer over to see the woman\'s black refrigerator with assorted coloring pages with My Little Pony and Dora the Explorer half blank and half scribbled-on. Now, to see such a thing on a grown woman\'s fridge, I find it a little bizarre. Coloring as a hobby or stress-reliever was understandable, but... she doesn\'t color inside the lines? That doesn\'t make sense.



What made sense? There is a child in this woman\'s life.



Oh fuck. She\'s married. Of course.



But wait. She could have a niece or something. A young cousin. A neighbor, for Christ\'s sake!



Why was I freaking out over nothing? In fact, why was I even caring?



I snort a laugh at myself for being idiotic. That\'s when my eyes travel down and I see just below one of the pictures a birthday card. I peek backward and to the side for the woman but she\'s not there, so I take the card off of the magnet and examine it. On the cover is a birthday cake, a bunch of brightly-colored presents, and the bold, colorful letters displaying the ever-popular exclamation, "Happy birthday!" With a smile on my face, I flip the cover and see, on the inside, a picture of a young girl -- not even four -- with blonde pigtails and a cheeky, few-toothed smile. Underneath the photograph is the printed words, "Hope you have a wonderful birthday!" and then a signature in pen of the name "Lizzie".



"How\'d it go?"



Startled, I gasp, spin around and lose the grip on the card, seeing it fly away from me and onto the floor next to the woman\'s bare feet. I place my palm on my racing heart and pant, "Oh... Y-you scared me..."



The woman\'s eyes immediately fall to the paper at her toes. She glimpses up at me briefly before kneeling down and picking up the item, opening it back up to inspect it. Though she doesn\'t remove her eyes from the inside flap, she proceeds to walk towards me and finally around me to put the card back onto the machine it was previously on, tacking it with one of the magnets next to a sketchy picture of Dora.



"I... I\'m sorry," I murmur, watching her eyes with anxiety. I could feel that horror-movie tension, like you know you did something bad and the killer will not let you forget it.



Her hand touches the photograph once more before she looks at me seriously. "That phrase is far overdue, you must know already," she states, a soft smile gracing her mouth. "You\'ve done nothing wrong, Julie. Don\'t apologize."



I swallow, my heart still pounding. "Who... Is that your..."



Her smile starts to broaden but falters into one with a sorrowful tint. "Yes," she says delicately, turning her attention to the rest of the papers on the refrigerator, all of the colors and scribbles. "That\'s my daughter. My Lizzie-bear."



With a shaky breath, I tell her, "She\'s... v-very beautiful."



That makes her smile happier. "Thank you," she replies, glancing at me. "She sent this to me on my birthday last week. I haven\'t seen her since."



I open my mouth to ask why but she beats me.



"I\'m getting a divorce," she says, tearing her eyes from the pictures and locking the dark green irises on me. "I can\'t see her for another week or so." There\'s an iciness to her voice when she says, "It\'s terrible when a mother can\'t see her own daughter."



Having no personal appeal to her situation, for I have no children nor a desire for them, I can only nod in sympathy. "Your ex-husband won\'t allow it?" I ask, feeling the thumps of my heart fall back into a steadier pattern.



A small beat of a laugh escapes her mouth. "No, it\'s not that," the woman replies. "My ex-wife won\'t allow it."



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So, um... what\'s in store for the next chapter? :D