Confessions About The Affair

4

Veronica's POV

"IS GEMMA okay?" Maggie turns to me with her wine glass in hand. I shrug. Like I'd know.

"It's been a rough week for her."

I pour myself another glass of wine, and tilt the rim to my lips.

"Hm, I bet you'd know," she nudges me, and raises her eyebrows suggestively.

"What's that supposed to mean?" We head over to the couch, and sit down. I've enjoyed having her around for the past few days. But all we do is drink wine together. And I wake up with a headache every morning because of it.

"I don't know. It might be because you're both—you know—"

Maggie is a sweetheart. But she can sometimes jump to conclusions about people. Not that she might not be right. But still, her conclusions can be a bit... insensitive?

"And how did your buzzed head figure that one out?"

"You know," she puts her hand in her hair, "she looks like—"

"What?" Maggie gestures her hands at her hair. What's with that?

"The hair. You know what they say about women with blue hair."

"Barely. She has blue highlights, Maggie. I doubt that suggests anything—even if her hair is completely blue, doesn't mean anything."

"Come on, Veronica. You know what I mean," I place my wine glass down, and grab the remote for the tv, "you know I don't have anything against—"

"I know you don't, but maybe we should ease it with the drinking now."

I take the glass from her, and she pouts, "but I need it."

"I know you think you do. But you really don't. Us getting wasted every night isn't going to fix anything."

Maggie's lonely. She's never been married. Never been in a healthy relationship. And maybe has never had an actual orgasm. I'm not sure about the last one, but it's possible that she doesn't even know what an orgasm is.

"You should be my wingman. We can pick up guys at the bar, and you'll make sure they're not complete assholes, before I end up sleeping with them."

"I'm not going to be responsible for your lovelife, Mags. You're a mag-net for dicks," I laugh.

She punches my shoulder. Ouch. It's my turn to pout.

"I'm tired of men," she looks at me, "you're so lucky. You get to be attracted to women. If only I—"

"Dating women can be just as hard. But yeah, it's great," I grin. She sighs and throws her head back on the couch.

"If only I were a lesbian."

"Yeah. I'm lucky," I smile, "don't tell Gemma that though."

Her eyes dart to mine, and she smiles too, "what, why? Has something happened between you two?"

"No!" I place the palm of my hand against my forehead, "I'm not interested in being Gemma Cohen's play thing again, okay?"

As soon as the words slip out of my mouth, I groan.

"What? What do you mean, again?"

"Nothing! It's nothing!" Damn, the drinking is really getting to me.

"Veronica! Spill it!" I place my hands over my face and lean forward, "Veronica!"

She yanks my arm, "is everything okay down here?" Someone walks into the room, and Maggie immediately gets up.