The perfect woman - My best friend's mom (GirlxGirl)

Fourteen - A mishap

Being around April now was even more heart wrenching than it was just two weeks ago. I had seen a glimpse, gotten a taste of what could've been, before the rug was pulled out from underneath my feet. April had admitted feeling something for me, and now she knew how I felt about her. My mind was in constant conflict of emotions and it felt as though my thoughts were spiraling off to all different directions, being everywhere else but here. Memories of our kiss, of all our little moments and her touch, popped into my head at random times, followed by her cold words. In my logical mind, I knew that she was my best friend's mother, that she was married and happy, but my feelings didn't care about that at all.

"Hey, that's pepper, not salt!"

Jasmine shoved my hands away, stopping me from adding pepper to the pie filling just in time, but there were now black corns all over the kitchen counter.

"What's up with you!?" Jasmine exclaimed accusatory.

"Sorry, got distracted," I said apologetically in a low voice, feeling my cheeks redden from embarrassment.

Jasmine shook her head and took over the ingredient-adding, moving me to the side to look at the recipe. In the corner of my eye, I saw April looking at me from over by the stove. She had a worried, yet apologetic look on her face, almost like she was aware that she was the cause of my mistake. I couldn't care less about her feelings, gave her a stern look and turned away from her, excusing myself to go to the restroom. I walked to the upstairs bathroom (I liked it better than the one downstairs), closed and locked the door behind me, and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I let out my breath, tried to relax my muscles and ended up with my face in my hands, pressing my cold fingertips over my closed eyes. My head was spinning, my heart was racing and the floor felt unsteady under my feet. I felt dizzy and had to grab on to the bathtub to find my balance.

Why was this so hard, I thought to myself. It felt like I couldn't stay present in reality and was always drawn away by my thoughts, drowning in emotions.

A soft knock on the door. I looked up in surprise, confusion. I sat still.

"Are you okay?" a worried voice said from the other side of the door. The last person I wanted to see right now.

I didn't answer, I just sat there, staring at the door. I had ran out of the kitchen to avoid her, why did she have to run after me?

"I know you're in there," April spoke again in a soft voice.

I stood up, walked to the door on trembling legs and unlocked it. April slowly opened the door and embraced me.

"I'm sorry," she said against the top of my head. She pulled me closer but I backed out of her arms.

"Don't do that!" I exclaimed, rage filling me up. "You don't get to do that!"

"Don't shout so loudly," April hissed and moved us both into her bedroom. I stood in the middle of the room, eyebrows tightened and fists clenched. April moved closer to me, the worry now all over her face and body. I retreated back, further into the room.

"You don't get to do that anymore!" I repeated.

"I don't get to do what?" April asked confused.

"You don't get to be all protective of me! You decided this, not me!" I shouted at her. "You wanted me to pretend like it's nothing, like everything's fine. And then you come running after me when I'm clearly angry at you and you don't even see how that's problematic! You hurt me! And it's all your fault! None of this would've happened if you had just..." I fell silent when I saw April sit down on the bed, her back against me and face in her hands. Muffled sounds of sobbing filled my ears. Great, now I had made a 47 year old woman cry. Just great!

I pulled myself together, unclenched my fists and slowly walked towards her.

"Hey," I said slowly, "I'm sorry."

No response. I sat down on the bed next to her.

"I shouldn't have said that."

"But you're right." April lifted her head from her hands, revealing swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "It is all my fault! I'm so sorry for putting you in this situation, I'm a terrible person."

"No, you're not. You could never be a terrible person. You're as far away from terrible that one can come," I said. "I didn't stop you, and if I'm honest, I had wished to do what you did so many times that it could very well have been me who would put us in this situation."

April looked at me, unsure whether to fight back or agree.

"I'm sorry that I made you cry," I said.

"That's okay," April said and made an effort to smile. It didn't turn out very smiley but I appreciated her effort. "And I'm sorry for making you angry."

"That's okay," I said and returned the smile. "So, where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," April sighed. We fell silent, looking at each other and around the room.

"Do you still...," I begun.

"Want to forget about it?" April finished my sentence. I nodded. April chewed on her lip, thinking. "Nothing's changed since last week." She finally said. "I'm sorry."

I took in her answer and processed it, then rose from the bed and left the room without looking back at April. She had made her decision, there was nothing left for me to do here. She didn't try to stop me from leaving or come after me.

When I came down into the kitchen, Jasmine looked up from the recipe.

"I don't feel well, I think I might be getting sick again," I lied to her. "I'm going home."

Jasmine looked confused and surprised and answered something, but I didn't hear her. I was already halfway out the door. I walked with quick steps, down the driveway and out on the street. When I was out of sight of the house, I began to jog, which turned into a run. I wanted to get away from April, my thoughts and emotions as fast as possible. I ran the fastest I could all the way home. When I reached the door, my heart was beating so fast I thought it would pop out of my chest and my legs almost crumbled under me. As soon as the door closed behind me, I fell to the floor and started crying uncontrollably.

I don't want to. I don't know how to live without her. I can't. I'm done.