Second Best by wicked archer

The fiesta was in full swing. It was a weird feeling finally being back home after so long. I looked around the living room. The varnished mahogany couch and armchairs were still there, where they had always been. Still as shiny as when the furniture people delivered them. The low, rectangular, glass topped coffee table was still burdened with my mom's knick knacks.

Even the guests were the same. My mom's best friend, Mina and her family were there. So were my aunts and uncles. My cousins and their kids clustered around the whole roast pig. My brother and sister were fighting over coveted slices of my mother's refrigerator cake. The whole scene made me smile, albeit melancholy.

There were only two differences from old times. One was the absence of my father. He and my mother finally separated after twenty-five years of arguing over everything and nothing. And the other was my spouse, Erin. She looked around her with a bemused expression on her face and that hidden sadness in her eyes. Our eyes meet and hold, mine filled with love, hers with resignation and sadness. Though she tried to hide it. She smiled at me and stepped towards me. I cannot bear to have her touch me just yet. Every time I look into her eyes and see the unguarded expression there, my heart shrivels up just a little more. So I smile, though I bet it looks twisted. And I turn away, catching my cousin's son as he teetered on his stubby, eighteen month old legs. I pretend to be focusing on little Joseph, hiding my own sadness from everyone.

This isn't my story to tell. Not completely. It would be unfair because this would only be from my point of view. But as I stood there surrounded by my family I couldn't help but think about it. Let me start from where Erin and I began.

I met her in the city. I was a customer service agent, she was our product trainer. And she was magnificent. Tall and sleek, with long blond hair and blue eyes. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. And she was unavailable.

It was no secret in our office that the gorgeous Erin Swanson was gay. She never flaunted it. But at a Christmas party a few years ago, she brought her girlfriend as a date and they kissed under the mistletoe. My heart was broken. But I smiled, thinking it was nothing more than a passing crush on someone even a blind woman would find attractive.

For years I observed her. Her eyes, I found, were what attracted me to her. They were a shining, merry, sparkling blue. They reminded me of sunshine on the ocean. She also had the most musical laugh I ever heard. I loved hearing her laughter; it sent tingles up and down my spine. She had everyone eating out of the palm of her hands. Even the big bosses.

She climbed the ladder of the office echelon quickly. If I were a bitter, spiteful person, I would say it was because she was the epitome of sexuality. And she knew it. But she was also undeniably brilliant and her work ethics were unsurpassed in the company.

As for myself, I worked my way up, slowly but surely until I became a training supervisor. She was now VP of operations. Our worlds were far apart. We played in different circles. Though our paths do cross every once in a while.

Imagine my surprise when one day I worked late and found her crying in the deserted pantry. I gasped, announcing my presence to the oblivious VP.

She jerked her head up and spun to face me. Her blue eyes were swollen, red rimmed. And, I realized, they had lost their sparkle. Yet she was still so beautiful to me.

I was quick to apologize, not wanting to intrude. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone was here." I turned to go, my non-regulation sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor.

"NO, it's alright," I heard her say softly. "Please, stay."

I should leave her alone. Her grief deserves privacy. And my conscience was nagging me to hurry to my office and not stick my nose somewhere it didn't belong. But I was never one to listen to my conscience. So I found myself turning to face her. And my feet slowly took me to the table where she sat and I sat beside her.

I held out my hand. "Kate Sierra."

She took my hand in her clammy one and replied, "I know. You're one of the training supervisors. Erin Swanson."

I hid my surprise. "I know. You're the VP of Operations."

She smiled. I tried to look for the sparkle in her eye. But it wasn't there. And in all the years we've been together, I never saw it there ever again.

It turned out that her girlfriend Belinda had left her. She was from a political family and her father decided it was best for the family and for Belinda to marry a promising senator from her father's political party. Belinda, having been raised as she was, felt she had no choice but to agree. It was there on that table, in the empty pantry, that Erin told me that Belinda was the love of her life. And my heart broke all over again. Yet it was also filled with hope. Perhaps now that Erin was available, I had a shot. I could bring that sparkle back in her eyes, make her happy again. But I never could.

Three months after the pantry episode Belinda married John Anthony Calubag, a young, handsome senator. When the news came out, Erin broke down. Then she came to my apartment and we made love for the first time. Well, I made love to her, she had sex with me.

About a year later, the young, political family announced that they were about to have their first child. A day later, Erin proposed to me. I should have said no. But my heart wouldn't let me. I was too far gone. Erin was the one for me. I told myself I didn't mind being second best. That I could make her forget Belinda. That I could make her love me. I was a fool.

A month later we were married. She cried at our wedding. My folks thought it was sweet, Erin crying for the love of me. Only I knew better. Erin cried out of hopelessness. I was not Belinda.

For three years I tried to make her happy, to make her love me. But I have given up. Her heart never belonged to me. It belonged to a senator's wife.

I was pulled back to the present by Joseph's baby gibberish in my ear. I smiled, one of my rare genuine ones. I jiggled him and he squealed in my ear in delight. Bad move. My ears were ringing, but I didn't mind.

"Joey want cake?" I asked him. He smiled and kissed me sloppily on my cheek.

"Kay," he gurgled. "Want kay."

I made my way to my still bickering siblings and snatched the largest piece of refrigerator cake then made a mad dash for the yard. I heard my siblings' outraged squawks. I smirked and sat on one of the plastic chairs that littered the yard, settling Joseph on my lap.

"Here we go, bud. But you gotta share now," I told him as I spooned a bit of the creamy concoction and fed him. He hummed happily, bouncing up and down on my lap.

"That wasn't nice," I heard a teasing, masculine voice in my ear. I turned to my brother and smiled. I spooned a bigger portion and poised the spoon near his mouth.

"Want a bite?" I asked.

He smiled and opened his mouth. I moved the spoon to my mouth and ate the cake, making moaning noises and smacking my lips. "Mm-mm, good!" I proclaimed. I smirk at him.

"Why you little shit!" he said in surprise and mock outrage. Then his eyes widened comically when Joseph shouted for all to hear, "WITTOW SHIT!"

"Uh-oh," my brother muttered under his breath.

"What have you been teaching my kid?" Mary, my cousin, asked indignantly.

"Pat was just being a good uncle and taught Joey here his first cuss word," I told her with a grin.

Mary's brown eyes shot daggers at Patrick. My brother grinned sheepishly, then without warning he took off with Mary at his heels. Joey let out a delighted scream and wiggled his way off my lap to give chase to his mom and uncle.

I laughed along with everyone else, momentarily forgetting my woes. And a stray thought flitted through my head. I want a baby. As the thought registered, my heart broke just a little bit more. As long as I'm with Erin, I had decided not to have kids. And Erin never brought it up. Deep down I doubted if my kid could love me. If Erin couldn't, despite everything I do, maybe my kid couldn't love me too.

I shook my head to banish the thoughts. No. This is supposed to be a happy time, dammit! I haven't been home in five long years. I will not burden my family with this. I will smile and be happy.

I took a breath and let it out slowly, feeling the grip on my heart loosen. I felt a presence beside me. Without looking I knew who it was.

"Quite a party," Erin said. "I've never been to a fiesta before. And a whole roast pig?" she laughed.

I look up at her and smiled. "Yep."

She shook her head. "I didn't quite believe you when you told me about that part. Every occasion you say?"

I tilt my head to the side, regarding her. "Well, all the important ones."

She looked at me, her expression unreadable. What came out of her mouth unsettled me. "We didn't have roast pig on our wedding."

Was it important you, Erin? Our wedding? I wanted to ask. But I bit my tongue and said instead, "I think a whole roast pig is unheard of in your country. And I thought it would weird you out. Imagine a whole pig on the buffet table. What would the guests have said?" I joked.

She quirked a smile at me. "Yeah. I guess. It would have been fun to watch Lester's reaction. Imagine the super preppy president of the company try and wrap his mind around a whole beast lying on his table."

I chuckled at the image formed in my head. I look down at my hands and noticed the forgotten refrigerator cake. I spooned a bit and offered it to her.

She smiled and ate the cake. "Mmm. This is really good." She took the spoon from me and scooped a bigger portion.

"Yeah. It's Mama's special desert." I said, looking at my mother who was chasing after a rolling Joseph. I couldn't help but laugh.

I felt her nudge my shoulder. I turned to her and saw that she was offering me a bite of the cake. I looked at her and there was something unreadable in her eyes again. I didn't want to analyze this, fearing I would see her sadness and discontent again. So I just opened my mouth and ate my cake.

"Thanks for setting up my room, Mama," I told my mother as I sat on my childhood bed. My room was the same. Even the posters and my sketches on the walls were untouched. And my collection of Spiderman action figures was still where I left them, on top of my dresser.

"It's alright, dear. It's good to have you home again," she smiled at me. "It gets a little lonely out here without you kids running around wreaking havoc."

I rolled my eyes. "Mom, I'm twenty-eight. Pat, Dee and I aren't kids anymore."

"You three will always be my babies. And no matter how old you get, I will always see you as my babies. Got it?" she pretended to be menacing.

I giggled the way I used to when my mom and I would joke around. Then I sobered and I looked at her. "I love you, Mama."

She smiled and said, "I love you too darling." Then she scrutinized me and then asked, "Is everything alright with you and Erin?"

I blinked. "Yeah. Everything's the same as usual with us." It wasn't a lie. "Why do you ask?"

She stared at me a moment more then said with a smile, "Nothing dear. Just checking after my baby's welfare, is all."

I smile. It felt mechanical. But it was either that or break down and I'd really rather not alarm my mother this late after the tiring day we had. She enveloped me in her arms and it felt so safe. So warm. I was home. And for a perverse moment I wished she were Erin.

I heard the clearing of a throat. Erin was standing by the door, looking at my mom and I, then letting her eyes roam my bedroom. She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Lavender?"

I blushed. "It's a pretty color," I shrugged.

She smirked and sat beside me, a proprietary arm going about my waist. "Thanks for inviting us, Joan," she addressed my mother. "I've never been to a fiesta before."

"Did you enjoy it, Erin?" asked my mom.

Erin grinned, "Sure did. It was like every party I ever attended. Except for the roast pig."

My mother laughed. I shook my head. "Let it go, Erin. Maybe for your birthday we can have roast pig again."

"Yeah?" she looked hopeful. "That would be great."

My mom stood from the bed with a groan. "Well, I'm taking these creaky old bones to bed." She shook her head ruefully. "Used to be, I could chase after you and your siblings all day, Kate. Now, my body is rebelling. I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow."

I stood up too. "You're not old, Mama. G'night." We hug and she gives me a kiss on the forehead.

"Good night, darling. You too, Erin." She walked out of the room. Then turned back. "Oh, and if you younguns are gonna have hot monkey sex, try to keep it down okay?" Then with a flash of white teeth, she was gone.

I felt my cheeks flush. For some reason I couldn't look at Erin. I cleared my throat. "I'm gonna go wash up."

I hurried off to the bathroom right next door to my bedroom and prepared for bed.

When I got back, the room was dark. The moonlight illuminated the delectable lump Erin made between the sheets. I took my place beside her and turned on my side, facing away from her. The familiar feel of my room and the comforting sounds of my childhood home settled my insides and made me drowsy.

I was drifting off when I felt Erin's lips placed butterfly kisses at the nape of my neck. Her hands came around my waist, slowly making it's way to my stomach. Her kisses become more insistent, lips travelling down to my back then up again. I felt the familiar warmth of arousal spark in my stomach, right where her hand was. I turned my head to face her. The moonlight was behind her, casting her face in shadows. I wanted so much to tell her I loved her. I did once, during our honeymoon. She looked startled for a second before there was a flash of pain in her eyes, then wistfulness and finally sadness. I couldn't take it so I had pulled her head down and kissed her. Trying to make her forget I ever said those words.

Remembering it now quickly doused my libido. Right here, in my childhood room, where most of my memories of childhood, both happy and sad were, I just couldn't let her use me. I just couldn't pretend that it was me she was thinking of when we made love, my name she was screaming inside her head when she came. In a weird way, I felt it would destroy the sanctity of my room and the memories it keeps.

For the first time since we became intimate I told her, "Not tonight, Erin. I'm just so tired." And it was true. I was tired of being second best.

The shadows hid the expression on her face. Her tone was even when she said, "It's alright. I just wanna hold you."

With that she snuggled up to me, the arm around my waist tightening for a few seconds, pulling me toward her.

This happened before countless of times. After sex, she'd hold me just like this. And just before she'd fall into a deep sleep she'd call her name. Belinda. I waited for her to say it now. All I heard was her even breathing. The sanctity of my bedroom remains unsullied. And I thanked God for small favors.

The morning brought sunshine. And with it the news that shocked me to my core. Senator Calubag died last night of a heart attack. He was only thirty-four. The video clip showed an upset Belinda and her two and a half year old son clutching each other as they entered the hospital.

The house got eerily quiet as we watched the early morning news. I couldn't look at Erin. I couldn't bear to see what I would find there. Would she leave now? Now that Belinda no longer had a husband? Would she go to her now that Belinda needed someone to be there for her? My conscience knocked me on the head, reminding me to spare a thought for the departed senator. But my heart was in knots. All I could do was look at the screen as my wife's soulmate addressed the press to officially announce her husband's death. Oh what must Erin be feeling?

"So young," I heard my sister, Diane, mumble. "He had pretty fair ideas too."

"Yup. Such a waste," added Pat.

"Poor Mrs. Calubag. And they were only beginning their family," mom put in her two cents.

I got up from the couch and out the door.

"Where are you going, Katie?" I heard my brother call.

"A walk," I responded.

My feet took care of my direction because my brain was a study of jumbled thoughts. I was afraid that she would leave. Nothing was stopping her. John Anthony was dead now. And Belinda's father no longer was a senator. There was no longer any reason for her to pretend. She was free.

Then I realized that there was indeed something holding Erin back. Me. She would never break a promise. That wasn't how Erin operated. When she gave her word, it was good as gold. And no matter how miserable she was, she would never leave me. She had promised me forever.

Could I do that to her? Could I watch her suffer every day, pining for her love and being unable to do anything because of some stupid oath that she didn't even mean? Do I love her enough to keep her chained to me?

I looked around at where my feet had taken me. I was at the edge of my neighbor's private pier. This was my sanctuary when I was younger. Mrs. Gomez always let me stay here. She knew the sea helped me think; the ocean breeze calmed me down. She had once told me that I had a standing invitation to use her pier. And I took her offer now, sitting on the slightly damp planks, my feet dangling above the water. I took a deep breath, feeling the salt of the ocean at the back of my throat. Or were they the tears I refused to shed?

I looked out over my sanctuary. What I was thinking I couldn't tell you. My mind left me for a few precious minutes and I was free from pain. The cuss of a fisherman and a huge splash brought me back to the here and now. I watched as the fisherman's head broke the surface of the water, a string of colorful curses spewed out of his mouth and into the peaceful morning air. I laughed. And then I laughed some more, clutching my sides and tears streamed down my face.

Then in a moment of clarity I had my answer. I stopped mid-laugh as the answer hit me. I had to talk to Erin.

"Where'd you get to?" Pat asked as I walked into the kitchen.

"Around," I answered him absently. "Where's Erin?"

"She went up to your room, dear." My mother kindly informed me.

I took the stairs two at a time. I burst through the door without knocking. And there sat Erin, her eyes swollen, tears falling down her face. And there it was, the thing that made me fall for her, the thing that I thought I'd never see again. The sparkle in her eyes was back.

To say it broke my heart would be an understatement. But it solidified my answer. I loved Erin too much to keep her. I had to set her free. And the sparkle in her eyes made the decision bearable for me.

She opened her mouth to speak but I beat her to it. "I want a divorce."

She looked at me, mouth agape. She closed it, and opened it again to speak, only to shut it tight, her jaw clenching. "What?" she asked through gritted teeth.

I sat beside her, my eyes forward, staring at the lavender wall. "You're free, Erin. Her father can't run her life anymore, he's retired from politics. And her husband is gone. Nothing is stopping you from reclaiming the other half of your soul. Except me. And I don't want you to be miserable." I turn to her, looking her in the eyes. "I love you too much, Erin. Don't you see? I can never be her. And you can only be happy with her. This is your chance to be happy, Erin."

She looked at me, that strange look present in her eyes. For a long time we only stared at each other. Then she opened her mouth. "You're right."

I heard my heart shatter. Without my permission, tears streamed down my face. I felt empty inside. I knew the pain will come after the shock wears off. I would welcome it with open arms. The pain would remind me of Erin. I nodded my head and got up. I would tell my mother there had been a change of plans. That we couldn't stay for long after all.

As I reached for the doorknob I heard her speak again. "You are right." I heard her get up, felt her hands on my shoulders as she turned me around to face her. The sparkle in her eyes showed brighter. "Nothing is stopping me from reclaiming the other half of my soul. Even you, Kate. And I am claiming you right now."

Her head lowered and she kissed me. The kiss felt different, sweeter somehow. Like she meant it. Her arms went around me, crushing me to her, her hand holding my head in place as her kiss deepened.

I was breathless when she let my mouth go. My vision swam and I couldn't speak. Was that a kiss goodbye? "I don't understand," I whispered.

"I was sitting here on the bed, thinking about what John's death meant to me and Belinda. She's free now. Her father cannot dictate her life. Then I thought about going to her, to take care of her, rekindle our past."

I felt the first stab of pain lance through me. It made me gasp. Her hold tightened.

"Then I thought about what it would mean for us. I thought about leaving you." A second burst of pain. I shut my eyes, the pain making my vision blur.

She continued, "And the thought of leaving you just tore my heart, Kate. It hurt so much, like a physical pain. The thought about not waking up next to you, never being able to hold you in my arms again, to see you laugh� I couldn't stand it Kate. The pain of loosing you is just too much. Even the pain of losing Belinda paled to the thought of loosing you." She grasped my face, making me open my eyes. "You are the other half of my soul, Kate. You. Not Belinda. You. You make me complete. You make everything around me better. You took my broken heart and healed it, Katie. And you've had my heart for a long time now. I'm sorry if I hadn't shown it to you better, my love. I'm sorry if I made you doubt my love for you."

I blinked at her. My heart dared to hope. But I had to be sure. "What� what do you mean?"

She smiled, her eyes sparkling even more. "I love you, Kate Swanson. I'm so in love with you I could burst."

"You're not leaving me?" I asked her, clutching the front of her shirt with in my fists, afraid to let go.

"No. never," she declared vehemently.

I pulled her down and ravaged her lips, pouring my heart and soul into it. Her arms pulled me to her, crushing me again. I pulled her tighter to me. She loves me. Erin loves me.

The End