Valentine's Realizations

It was late.

No. It was too early, but it felt late.

Jane wished it was already late. That way, she would hit the bed and fall asleep immediately. Instead, she was clumsily sitting on her couch, drinking beer and scanning channels in hopes of finding something to distract her mind.

Her stomach twisted, and she felt sick. Not because she was drinking alcohol on an empty stomach but because she couldn't stop wondering about her best friend. At this exact moment, Maura was enjoying dinner in one of the most expensive French restaurants in town, with a lawyer she met last week on a fundraiser. How could she ever top that? She would never be able to give the ME what she deserved. And, that's if she was fool enough to even daydream about her feelings being reciprocated. It didn't matter anyway. At least, that meant she wouldn't embarrass her even more in front of her family and friend's outside work. It was bad enough when she had to tag along for events whenever she got too anxious to go by herself and couldn't find another plus one.

Last Valentine's day they spent the night together. Maura cooked chicken cacciatore, and they watched chick flicks the entire night. The blonde's legs stretched on Jane's lap while giggling and flushed from the too many glasses of wine. It couldn't get any better than that. That was all Jane would ever have.

Taking another sip from her beer, the detective shut her eyes and sighed. She was sick of jealousy, but she was even more hurt. There was nothing she could do. People can't always get what they want nor what they desire-she wasn't any different nor special. And yet, no matter how many times she told herself that while trying to convince herself she could be happy just being friends, she couldn't stop thinking about the date. Any date, not just this one.

Every time Maura went out with someone, her mind went overdrive. Images of all of those men touching her, driving her crazy. None of them deserved her, and yet they were still better matches than herself.

The doorbell rang, and Jane cursed herself. It was likely her mother. She should have never told her she didn't have any plans for the night. A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door. Great, they were already inside the building, and it was obviously not her mother. If so, she would come inside without warning. She didn't bother to move from her seat. She could always pretend she wasn't home.

M: "Jane?"

Jane jumped from the couch, almost spilling her drink all over herself and moved fast to open the door.

Startled, she stared at her up and down, doubting that Maura was indeed in front of her. No. She was real. This was really happening.

In no time, the blonde shifted uncomfortably. Her body grew stiff, and her eyes locked on Jane's—almost pleading.

M: "A-are you with someone?"

J: "What?! No. C'mon in."

As usual, Maura made her way inside, placed her handbag on the island counter and removed her jacket. Abruptly looking at her when the brunette's stomach growled.

M: "When was the last time you ate?"

Jane closed the door and groaned. She was not in the mood to be scolded.

J: "Before leaving work."

M: "I hope you're not talking about the half of the sandwich you didn't finish at lunch."

Rolling her eyes, she saw Maura looking at her in disapproval and starting to rummage through the fridge.

J: "Maur, you don't hav-"