She couldn't believe that her dear Maria would have done something like that, so she decided not to. To ignore evrything and continue on.
She walked home like she always would. Ignored the cigarettes- neither of them smoked. Pretended to not notice the obvious signs.
The unfamiliar pieces of clothing in their apartment, the longer nights out, the amount of time she spend on the phone with a certain Lilly--
No, it just couldn't be.
She was overeacting.
Yes that was it. Alice was just being paranoid and imagining the worst.
Maybe Maria had started smoking? Maybe that was why she was staying out later? She didn't want Alice to find out. And Lilly was just a new friend and she simply fellt jealous because of the lack of attention she herself had been getting from her wife lately.
That did sound logical right?
...
Who was she trying to fool? Probably herself.
She stared at the book in her lap. She couldn't concentrate on the story and put it away. She closed her eyes and masaged her tempels.
Her eyes shot open when she felt someone sit down beside her. Turning around she reflected the smile trown her way, although a little shaky.
They sat in silence for a while.
A pair of arms shot around her waist and pulled her close. She didn't protest. She was pathetic. Pathetic and weak.
She tried to ignore the hollow i love you's that followed, yet she felt herself suck them all in like the attention starved fool she was.
She tried to forget, to just enjoy the kisses that were left on her skin. The cherry lipstick that temporarily marked her body with red heart shapes.
It was so easy to just push away the thoughts of her beloved with another woman for the moment.
Yet she knew that she couldn't. She would never be able to completly forget about it. She wouldn't ever be able to trust Maria again. She couldn't bear the thought of their love being fake. That all the kisses and hugs and touches didn't mean anything to her. That she didn't look forward to the time they spent together. The late evenings they spent cuddling on the couch, their hikes or their afternoons spent baking.
She couldn't pretend.
She couldn't pretend that she didn't know.
She pushed her of, grabbed her coat and left.
She did what she did best.
She ran away. Like she always did.
The pain of pretending had been too great.
