Chapter One

At night, Barbara laid on her bed staring intently as she played with her phone, the space of her room is dark and filled with mysterious corners. She stood from her bed and walked to the reading table that was placed at the corner of the room. Then she inhaled deeply as she stared at the numerous letters she had written to Chantelle.

She had spent three hours crying on her bed.

What was she to do now, how would she reach Chantelle, now that she knew her deepest secret and her dreaded past. She thought deeply of the woman she loved, that she couldn’t get past the gnawing sensation that she’d never be hers, and not entirely.

She looked around her house and saw how it was filled with meaningless items and mementos, little reminders of a marriage that, in her mind, would never cease to exist the way things were turning out. She thought deeply, was there really room for her now in Chantelle’s house?

There were also photographs taken with Chantelle in their secret outings, which straddled every part of her room, as she had little time cleaning up after the breakup.

She looked back and stared at the floor for a minute or two, sighing deeply as she did so. Then she combed her hair back with her fingers, kneeling to the floor to look at one photograph in particular.

“Fuck! Why do I have to look at them? Now I can’t stop thinking about you Chantelle,” she scolded herself.

Then she slowly stood, still holding the pictures, then a thought raced through her head. Or better still why couldn’t I see past them? I am the girl who deeply loves her, why can’t I make this sacrifice and fight for the one I love, put aside what the world would think, what my parents would think or what anyone in the world would think, I am in love and that’s what matters to me.

She tried to comfort herself with these thoughts, but she savored much in sadness. Presently, because of our status, there was certainly neither of them could do, she thought. She softly held it on her chest, gently closed her eyes, and sighed deeply in compassion.

Chantelle now knows she’s an ardent drug addict, and according to public normalcy that was like having an infectious disease. No one wanted to have anything to do with a drug addict, it was an extreme burden, and Barbara knew quite well. But the emotions she has for her beloved is all that mattered to Barbara now, how could she reconcile this.

She dripped a tear from one eye. “I don’t know why you let things get to you,” she said as she stared at the picture of her and Chantelle at the beach.

The pictures flooded her head with memories as consistently looked at them, but when looking at them physically she only saw her inactions.

Then a thought streamed quickly in her head, telling her to call her or go search for her. And when seeing her she shouldn’t hide, she should tell the world how much she loved her and would die for her if that permits.

Then her thought shifted again, she remembered when she booked the couples package in Niagara Falls, which was complete with a king-sized bed, dozen red roses, and an in-room Jacuzzi tub. It was meant to be their special retreat for a few days, a time and place to be committed to spending time together. A perfect timing till this situation had to occur, she thought deeply, caring less if her husband would catch her in the act of sobbing on Chantelle’s picture.

She grinned slightly and guessed she would have told this story as a sickly sweet romance with her as the gallant sugar mama. It would have been objectively true, but it wouldn’t have been the entire and untouched truth. She walked towards her bed again, moving her hands through the soft sheets which somewhat reminded her of Chantelle’s soft skin and played her dramatic thoughts in her head, she thought further that if she was going for honesty, she might as well go all the way for it, even if the reality makes her seem immature and a little bit nuts.

Then her body swirled with demand, and that was to take drugs again. She pushed her mind away from that thought as it lowered her momentum for a second. So she tried forcing her thoughts to another thing, as she sat on the bed looking through the balcony.

She could see the green meadows spread beautifully across the horizon, but this time they were darkly green with some bits of sparkles and twinkle on the blades, reflecting the soft moonlight. She remembered when she had told Chantelle about the trip, how her face glistened in excitement. She had never seen her so ecstatic. Chantelle rushed to get her bag and she sat on the bed while she riffles through her closet in excitement, holding outfits up against her body.

“Darling, I wonder if this fits,” Chantelle would say with the sparkle in her eyes. “What about this cleavage dress, do you like it?”

For the first time when Barbara saw her like that, she knew she was the one for her, and she would love her unconditionally. She desired to see that ecstatic countenance again, but the short argument between them and her secrets spilled made her cringe as she tried to dial Chantelle’s number and beg for a second chance. Chantelle’s joy gave her the gift to live again after having consistent suicidal thoughts in the past.

“Darling, where are you going to take me for dinner,” she asked as she sensually moved towards her.

They were close to each other, her lips a few lengths away from Barbara’s. “The Romero steakhouse.”

“Oooh, that’s fancy and expensive!”

Yes, everything was expensive, but there was only one perfect response to that statement: “Anything for you my queen.”