A Tale of Two Couples (pt 3)

But I couldn't stay away. B soon traded his lonely attic retreat and cold feet for toasty toes under my cozy duvet. Yes, it was fast...

... and I couldn't handle the guilt.

Every moment we spent together filled me with doubt and each kiss caused me physical pain. I was betraying a friend... wasn't I? My tears were now a mixture of anger and shame. I couldn't enjoy my new love affair. No walking down the street holding hands or giggly googly-eyes in the back of a restaurant. B told me time and again I shouldn't put so much pressure on myself - if we were falling in love then that's what was meant to happen. On a visit to my parents' house, I nervously told my mother I thought I might, um, possibly have some feelings for B (whom she had met a few times). I felt my load lighten (but not dissipate) when, without hesitation, she said "well, it was inevitable." I felt I had her blessing despite the circumstances.

Sometime in October B moved to my parents' house. They were living temporarily out of town and the arrangement of a house-sitter who did some maintenance for rent was satisfactory for all. Well, almost. B increased his commute by 800% and when his evening shift ended at midnight, the ride home was an hour-and-a-half battle with his eyelids. The time spent in a large, empty house with my fat cat curled on his lap was good for his emotional healing, but not so good for the phone bill. We talked almost every day and weekends were spent together. It didn't take long for weekends to begin on Thursday night, then Wednesday, and pretty soon his commute "home" was cut down to maybe once a week.

One night as I sat on B's lap in the glow of the woodstove, he held my hand over his heart (yes, he was for real) and told me he loved me. I cried. And said nothing. He placed my hand over my heart and told me that he wasn't worried - he knew I would fall in love with him too. I had never felt so scared.

Meanwhile, the other two had given up the game...