10. Lucinda

10

LUCINDA

T he sun's rays fell across Lucinda's face, waking her up. She squinted at the light, looking around her. Where was she? She was warm, and her feelings felt abnormally settled and mellow. Lucinda looked around at the burgundy-and-brown bedroom. It was dark and cozy and smelled of warm wood and vanilla. Lucinda sat up and saw Becky beside her, an arm slung over her eyes.

Right. She remembered.

Lucinda never slept over at other people's places. She was a homebody but never felt safe in other people's homes. But Becky's house was warm and familiar, even though she had never been there. The smell alone enticed her to stay, as did the fact that the trek home last night had seemed like an expedition.

She got up quietly so as not to disturb Becky. Lucinda looked around the bedroom but couldn't find her clothes with the lights off. Piles of clean folded laundry were in a mound on top of the dresser. Lucinda pulled on a t-shirt that read “ Fire me!” and some running shorts. Soreness thrummed through her body as she got dressed. God, she wondered how she hadn't died from her many incredible orgasms last night. It might have been the best sex she'd ever had.

Her nipples were pleasantly sore against her shirt and the delicious memories of Becky being so rough with them filled her mind.

Becky had thrown her around and fucked her harder than anything she could imagine and she had gone crazy for it. She had loved every second.

Lucinda stretched her arms up to release some of the tension in her back.

She left the bedroom in search of the kitchen. Her feet quietly padded against the thick carpet. The hallway was covered in pictures, children's drawings, and different awards. Pictures of younger Becky and a small girl, who she assumed to be Ember from her shining red hair, adorned the walls. There were multiple photos of beautiful little Natalie. There was also an image of a teenage Becky and a dark-haired man at her high school graduation. There were several pictures of the different firefighting crews she had participated in over the years. Lucinda smiled at the touches of history and continued exploring.

Lucinda's bag sat abandoned on the well-loved brown couch in the living room. She pulled out her phone to see a text from Artie that he had sent last night.

Artie: We still hanging out tomorrow night? I get off at 6 and I've been craving Thai food all week.

Lucinda: Yes, please!

This was nice. She was starting to feel at home in Phoenix Ridge. She had friends, her job was going great, and, of course, there was Becky.

Lucinda dropped her phone back in her bag, her eyes spotting a mess. Tell-all magazines and old newspapers were scattered across the coffee table. Becky really was unorganized. Maybe Lucinda could tidy up her place for her sometime. Lucinda organized the papers in a stack at the corner of the table before going into the kitchen.

She found a coffee pot and began making her much-needed coffee, looking through the pantry to find any sugar. She was relaxed but also slightly on edge. This was becoming serious. She had slept over at her not-girlfriend-kind-of-girlfriend's house!

Lucinda left so quickly the day before because Rhodes had said she and Becky were "meant to be." What did that mean? It made her panic, and she needed space from everyone so she could calm herself down. She couldn't decipher her feelings. Did she want something serious with Becky? She thought of her wicked grin, the way she whispered sweet-nothings in Lucinda's ear, and the look on Becky's face when she had found Lucinda safe but sick in her bed. Her stomach flipped.

Lucinda felt hands sliding over her hips. She was so lost in thought she hadn't even heard Becky come up behind her.

Becky, now dressed, pressed a kiss to her neck. "Good morning. You look good in my clothes."

Lucinda hummed a happy sound as she turned on the coffee maker .

"You making your sludge?" Becky joked as she pulled away to find some cups.

"I would be if you had any sugar," Lucinda teased.

Becky scoffed, pulling out a bag of granulated sugar from the top of the fridge. “Here, baby."

Lucinda loved it when she called her baby and sweet girl.

They worked quietly in the kitchen, listening to the easy jazz music Becky had started playing from the record player in the living room. It felt like a scene from a movie. Lucinda made coffee while Becky cooked breakfast for them. She wondered if this was what life could be like with Becky: quiet, blissful mornings. A quiet, blissful life .

Lucinda glanced at her. Becky's hair was tied back, the gentle early morning light framing her face.

Beautiful.

Her own Greek goddess making her breakfast and serving her like Lucinda, too, was divine. Lucinda slipped her hand in Becky's. Becky glanced back from her scrambled eggs and smiled.

"What? "

Lucinda startled. What should she say? How could she put into words the feelings consuming her mind?

Lucinda smiled. "Nothing."

The front door swung open just as Becky kissed her mouth. A man with gray hair waltzed in carrying a box.

"Hey, Becks!" the man shouted, kicking the door behind him. "Your mother wanted me to bring a few things for Ember." He spotted the pair in the kitchen doorway.

Lucinda froze. Who was this man? Did he work for the firehouse or, worse, the city? And here she was, dressed in Becky's clothes, still smelling of sex.

Becky walked over to help him with the box. "Dad, I told you you need to call before you come over."

Lucinda's eyes widened. Dad?

How was she going to explain this? It was obvious, so humiliatingly obvious, that Lucinda had slept over after a lust-filled night. This was not how she would want Becky's parents to meet her. Hell, she didn't intend on meeting them at all!

"Hi, I'm Patrick." Becky's father grinned, waving at Lucinda, who was hiding in the kitchen. "Becks, you didn't tell me you had a new girlfriend."

"We're not—" Becky started.

"I'm not her girlfriend," Lucinda squeaked.

Patrick's eyes bounced between the two of them, noting their clothes and mussed hair. "My apologies."

"Dad, how about I call you later? I'll make sure Ember gets these." Becky rubbed the back of her neck, something Lucinda realized Becky did whenever she was nervous.

Patrick nodded. "Well, it was nice to meet you..."

"Lucinda." Lucinda bobbed her head, crossing her arms over her chest because she realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Nice to meet you, Lucinda." The man smiled and went to let himself out, but not before whispering to Becky, "She's a pretty one. Make sure she doesn't get away."

"Bye, Dad!" Becky hissed, shutting the door. She leaned her forehead against the wood.

Lucinda was fighting a wave of nausea that had overtaken her.

"I'm sorry about that. My parents have a bad habit of using their keys whenever they want. I should've chained the door last night." Becky laughed. She turned to see Lucinda frozen in the doorway. "Hey, you okay?"

No, she wasn't okay! She was panicked and felt closed in. Lucinda wanted to flee, she wanted to fight, and she needed her own house.

Lucinda went back into Becky's room, gathering her strewn-about clothes from the night before and putting them on.

"Lucinda, what's wrong?" Becky watched as she got dressed.

"Nothing," Lucinda lied. "I just remembered I have some things to do today, and it's already 8:30."

"Did my dad seeing us freak you out?" Becky asked.

Yes. "No. I just need to go home." Lucinda walked out to the living room and grabbed her cell phone to order a ride.

Becky followed her. "Let me just get dressed, and I can drive you?—"

"I already ordered a car. Thank you, though."

Lucinda went to open the door, but Becky's hand pushed it shut.

"Lucinda." Her voice was calm but demanding. "Talk to me."

What could she say? That she had just been wondering what her life could be like with Becky? That she was just thinking about living with her in this house? That she dreamed of sex-filled nights and soft jazz mornings? No, all of that became too real when Patrick had said the word “girlfriend.” Lucinda couldn't have a girlfriend because girlfriends were cursed to leave her.

Ice queen .

Cold-hearted bitch.

Just marry your fucking job, then! We're done!

"I have an important meeting today, and I need to go. I'll text you later." Lucinda pulled the door open and rushed around the corner to meet the hired driver.

Lucinda didn't want to embarrass herself further by waiting in Becky's front yard. What if someone saw her?

When Lucinda finally made it home, she saw a text from Becky.

Becky: Let me know when ur home

Lucinda: Home.

Why did she send it with a period? That was going to make her seem cold. Bloody hell, why was she doing everything wrong? She plopped face-first on the couch, trying to figure out what to do next .

Shower. Get dressed. Eat, if she could stomach it. Work. Yes, that seemed like a good plan. Whenever she didn't know what to do with herself, she would just press more into her work. Take more hours at the hospital and flood her senses with paperwork and patients. She needed to clear her head.

After cleaning herself up, she fled to work. She asked her assistant, Clara, to bring her any unfinished paperwork she had been avoiding. Lucinda locked herself in her office until she couldn't stand to read another word. She dragged herself home, not even playing music in the car, just sitting in the cold silence.

By the time she got home, she totally forgot that she and Artie were supposed to have dinner until she saw him standing outside her apartment door.

"Oh gosh! Have you been waiting long?" Lucinda hurriedly unlocked her door, letting the both of them in.

Artie pushed down the hood of his jacket, looking around her apartment. "Nah, I just got here five minutes ago. I figured you'd be caught in traffic."

"Thanks for waiting." She threw her work bag on a chair.

"What happened?" Archie sat at the dining table, eyeing her suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" Lucinda grabbed some forks and plates.

"You got that look. The 'I'm in hell, and I'm drowning' look."

Lucinda blushed, pushing a plate toward Artie. "I feel like we always talk about me. What's happening in your life?"

Artie rolled his eyes. "I still work at that shitty bar. My boyfriend decided we need a puppy when we definitely don't have the money for a puppy right now. And a car splashed old, muddy puddle water on my shoes on my way here. Now you're all caught up. What's wrong?"

"What kind of puppy?"

"Lucinda," Artie said sternly.

"Oh, fine!" Lucinda threw her hands up. "I spent the night at Becky's last night, and I never spend the night at other people's houses. Anyway, we were having such a lovely morning, then her dad walked in. He saw me wearing his daughter's clothes and maybe even saw my underwear discarded on the floor!"

"Is that all?" Artie said, unimpressed.

"What do you mean?"

Artie served himself a portion of noodles. "I mean, it was a little embarrassing, but it's not catastrophic."

Lucinda stared at her plate, the edges of her anxiety still fraying at her composure. "It feels catastrophic to me. I had this entire vision of what my life could be like with Becky, and then her father barged in and everything just came crashing down."

Artie raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "So what if her dad walked in? It’s not like you were doing anything illegal. You had a good time, and now you're freaking out because of a little awkwardness."

"It’s not just about that,” Lucinda said, her voice tightening. “It’s about the expectations, the labels! He called me her girlfriend, and I just..."

Artie took a thoughtful bite of his noodles before responding. "Okay, I get it. You’re scared. But maybe you need to confront that fear head-on instead of letting it dictate your actions."

Lucinda sighed. “It’s not that simple. I’ve always been cautious about letting people in because every time I’ve tried, it ends in disaster. I don’t want to set myself up for another failure.”

Artie looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. “You know, it sounds like you’re sabotaging yourself before giving it a chance. Becky seems like she genuinely cares about you, right? Maybe you should allow yourself to be happy instead of running away from it.”

Lucinda felt a pang of truth in his words but struggled to embrace it. “What if I’m just not meant for relationships? I’ve always been better off alone, focused on my work. It’s safe, predictable.”

Artie put down his fork, focusing intently on her. “Maybe it’s not about being ‘meant for’ relationships or not. Maybe it’s about taking a risk and seeing where it goes. No one’s saying it has to be perfect. It just has to be real.”

Artie's words bounced around in her head.

"I was engaged before. Did I ever mention that?"

He shook his head, putting his fork down.

"I was in my early thirties. She was everything to me, but so was my job. I was home less and less. I wanted—needed—to be perfect at everything. I wanted to soar through the ranks until I could make some actual change. I tried to reestablish everything my hospital had been built on to help those in need. She didn't understand why. She thought I was doing it to avoid her." Lucinda's eyes stung. "One night, she was tired of it. Screamed and screamed until her voice was gone. She shoved me into a wall, called me a cold-hearted bitch, and walked out the door."

Artie was silent.

"She said I wasn't worth the trouble. That I wasn't capable of loving someone."

"That's not true, Lucinda."

"Well, everyone who came after her agreed. They all left. They all said I wasn't worth it. I don't think I would survive if that happened to me again."

Artie leaned back, a look of understanding on his face. “Look, I can’t promise that it’ll be easy or you won’t get hurt. But I can tell you that the pain of avoiding it can be just as bad, if not worse. Sometimes, you have to take a leap of faith.”

They continued eating silently, the weight of their conversation hanging between them. Her thoughts drifted back to the morning with Becky. The connection they had shared felt real and genuine, and that made her fear of it more palpable. She tried to imagine Becky saying harsh words to her, but she couldn't. It was different. Everything was different.

After dinner, Lucinda and Artie chatted about lighter topics and watched a movie. They drank a bottle of wine and laughed at the poorly produced film. Artie talked about her meeting his boyfriend so she could talk him out of the puppy. By the end of the evening, she felt a bit more grounded. She hadn't had such a fun friendship in years. Artie was easy to talk to, easy to care about.

Before Artie left, he gave her a bear-crushing hug. “Think about what we talked about, okay? Don’t let fear win.”

“Thanks,” Lucinda said softly, watching him walk down the hallway. She shut the door behind him, the sound echoing through the quiet space.

Her apartment, usually a refuge, now felt like a fortress of solitude. The familiar surroundings did little to ease her mind. Lucinda moved to the window and looked out at the city lights, the vibrant pulse of Phoenix Ridge reflecting her conflicted emotions. Her chest ached as she looked out toward the suburb where Becky lived. All she wanted to do was be snuggled in Becky's bed, wrapped in her arms .

She considered Artie’s words and the reality of her situation. Confronting her fears felt daunting, but she knew she needed to do something. Her feelings for Becky were real; at least, she thought they were. She was so unsure of what she was feeling that her anxiety threatened to drown her. She rubbed her chest, urging the ache of loneliness away.