Glimpse of Us | Jenlisa [COMPLETED]

Chapter 21

Her cheek burns.

Or at least it feels like it. She can still feel the ghost of Lisa's lips even hours after the fact.

Some things don't change.

Sleeping on the couch still gives her a crick on the neck, smelling vodka still makes her nauseous even though she can really hold her alcohol with anything else, and Lisa's lips can wreck havoc in her. Facts of life. She was so stupid to think she could fool herself indefinitely. She will never be able to numb her heart enough so the treacherous thing doesn't love Lisa. It's ingrained in her. It's a part of who she is.

She'd told her last night.

And it wasn't just because Lisa's Ella's mother too.

It was because she couldn't bear for Lisa to think that she was unaffected, that she didn't care. Didn't love her. She does.

And then that kiss...

Jennie touches her fingertips to the spot.

It had stopped her cold. It had set her on fire. Jennie had accepted she still loved Lisa, that it would take a lot more than a year and some months apart for her to forget. She'd accepted she'd only been using Kai as a body to warm her bed so she wouldn't feel the weight of the loneliness quiet so much.

But she wasn't ready for Lisa trying to kiss her. And what hurts the most is the vodka in her breath.

She knows they're too far gone, that they've hurt themselves and each other too much to have anything akin to.... to a relationship, again. It's insanity to even consider it. But feeling Lisa's lips on the corner of her mouth? She thought about it. She couldn't help herself.

But Lisa was drunk. Lisa didn't really want it.

She's leaving.

And Jennie told her the bare bones of the truth last night even though it broke her heart. She would leave and be happy and find love elsewhere.

And Jennie would let her. She'd encourage her, even. Because they both deserve that. She prays she's not sick, that she'll get to see her daughter grow up. And she hopes Lisa can find happiness again, even if it kills her that it won't include her.

And Jennie shouldn't make it harder on her by staying.

She knows her wi- her ex-wife. She knows Lisa will be embarrassed about last night, that her pride can be an obstacle. So she gets up from the couch, straightens her clothes, and makes her way to the door.

"Stay?"

Jennie stops with her hand on the doorknob.

She turns to find Lisa, her eyes clear of the haze that overwhelmed them last night, standing outside her bedroom door. Jennie is stuck in place all over again.

Lisa was cold.

Where Jennie was hot and red and angry, Lisa was cold and aloof. Where Jennie wanted them to fight, to get things out in the open, to expose their problems regardless of how raw and ugly, Lisa folded into herself. Hid herself away from Jennie. She'd never felt so alone.

The emotionless mask she wore was one Jennie was familiar with, when things got too hard and Lisa thought being strong meant pushing her feelings away, meant not breaking down.

Jennie wanted them both to break down, so they could rebuild. That didn't happen back then.

It's happening now.

Lisa was so broken last night. And in the light of day it hasn't changed, not even without the aid of alcohol and the weight of a day they both feel pressing down on their shoulders each year. She's still here, still present. For the first time in so long Jennie feels as though Lisa is with her, not only in the same room but in the same head space. There's no distance between them. It's the first time she's felt it since before the miscarriage; the hug in the shed the other day came close but this? They're standing five feet apart and it already feels closer.