Chapter Text
Angela stared at her face in the mirror. Wiping away the mascara that had started to run. Her lips were bright pink, and her skin was pale. Her eyes were large and wet, and she looked so tired. She knew he was outside the door. Probably lying in bed, and scrolling his phone. He always ignored her after they fought. You’d think three years of marriage and something would give, but here she was.
Adam had been a guy who was a son of a woman her mom went to church with. He was nice. Her mom loved him immediately. The families were already friends. He was a quarter Italian. As far as her mother was concerned they were made for each other. Angela thought so too, at least for a while. They dated for six months before they got engaged. He was perfect. He seemed perfect.
Now staring at her sunken makeup-less face she wasn’t so sure if she had made the right choice. She felt the familiar well of guilt start to form in her stomach, so she took a deep breath to center herself. She’d have to go back outside eventually. She’d have to look at the dress she’d worn tonight thrown haphazardly into the small hotel trash can. Who knew a fucking dress could’ve been such a problem? Your whole chest is out, didn’t you see them staring at you?! She gritted her teeth best she could while brushing them and put on the t-shirt and shorts she’d set out. Once dressed she stared at herself again. “It’ll be fine,” she whispered before grabbing her makeup bag and searching for the little round case she’d been hiding for months.
He wanted kids. Of course he wanted kids. He wanted them the minute they got married but she wasn’t ready, and back then he respected that. Three years is too long, though, and if they want the big family “they wanted” then they’d have to start now. She clenched her jaw again as she broke the seal of the metal backing. She let the small pill fall into her hand, then into her mouth it went, sliding down far too slowly.
She could do this. Family tomorrow, rehearsal dinner Friday, wedding on Saturday. Home on Sunday and he leaves again on Monday. She watched her armor fall into place, and opened the bathroom door.
•••
Amanda loved weddings. Weddings were her playground. Free booze and a kick ass dinner were enough of a good time already, but weddings like these were the best. A hotel overlooking the beach and a bar downstairs with beautiful women. It was her heaven. At least it had been ten years ago. It had been too long since she’d gone out and flirted with a pretty girl. Between the doctorate and two jobs teaching, she just didn’t have the time she used to. Plus, being best friends with Shayne meant a lot more board games at home than drinking at bars. She didn’t mind, though. She knew they’d go out if she asked, Courtney had even invited her a few times to go with their friends. She was always either too tired or had a paper to write these days. The beautiful girls would have to wait.
Shayne and Courtney decided to get married in sunny Santa Barbara. A small enough ceremony to have a hotel block for friends and family right on the beach. Rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the wedding on Saturday, and she’d be back in LA on Sunday. She was determined to enjoy her time here. She glanced at the clock noting it was only 10:30. Chuckling to herself, she realized she hadn’t thought 10:30 was early in years. She could go downstairs, just for a quick night cap. Maybe she’d see someone, maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she’d bring her kindle and drink alone. Honestly that didn’t sound awful either. The hotel room was so quiet. Making her decision she stood up, grabbed her keycard, and padded her way down the long corridor toward the elevator.
She’d got in a little later than she’d expected from her drive. She checked half past 9 then found herself just lying fully clothed on the hotel bed scrolling her phone after sending a quick, “made it here safe” message to Court. Some quick I love you’s and she thought she’d head to bed, but now here she was. Standing in an elevator as it descended wondering what the wine list was downstairs.
Turning the corner, she saw a quiet bar with maybe a few patrons. A couple sitting with another couple chatting. A man nursing a drink with a laptop sitting in front of him. A woman alone at the bar… wearing pajamas. Her profile is shown in the moody light of the hotel bar. It was sharp and distinct. She looked beautiful. Ethereal even. How could a person look that good sitting in pajamas and socks at a dimly lit bar in the lobby of a hotel? She looked out of place. Her messy appearance is a stark contrast from the polished and elaborate floor of the hotel. Before she knew it she was up against the bar, ordering a California cab and standing directly next to the woman in pajamas.
“I don’t usually see a girl in her pajamas until the third date. You’re breaking records.” Amanda said with a small grin. It had been a while since she put on any sort of charm, and she desperately hoped she was still good at it. The woman glanced at her in awe, then smiled back with wide eyes, then broke out in a wild laughter.
“I haven’t been hit on like that… well I guess ever, considering I’m not usually sitting alone at a hotel bar in sleepwear. It’s been a long time either way.” She said, eyes bright and shiny. Amanda looked closer and noticed the redness around her eyes. A moment passed between them as she felt a pang of regret. She wasn’t sure what she assumed, but she’d been hopeful this was an eccentric decision and not someone who might be going through something. About to excuse herself with an apology for interrupting, she hears the woman’s raspy voice again, “I’m Angela.” She says with an outstretched hand. Amanda felt herself reach out and take the other woman’s smaller hand in her own.
“Amanda,” the taller woman says, finding her lips upturned in a smile at the ridiculousness of whatever is happening here. A beat of silence before she speaks again, “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t hit on a woman in years.” Amanda says, feeling her smile get surprisingly shy.
“Well, I liked your line.” Angela said softly, the smile faltering and something more solemn sliding behind her eyes. “Got any other ones you wanna try?” The grin returned to her face as quickly as it left it. Amanda finally took her seat on the stool next to her and leaned an elbow on the bar.
“Would any of them work?” Amanda grinned back at her, but knew that whatever was happening right now was much more than she’d prepared for. Angela was captivating, and Amanda could tell she was funny even though nothing had honestly been said between them.
“No woman’s ever been successful, but then again, not many women have tried.” Angela says with that same grin.
“Well, I’m glad to be one of the few and while I truly hope that someday I’m successful, I have a feeling that today may not be that day.” Amanda says, giving a sympathetic look. “I’m a very, very good lover but I’m an even better friend.”
Angela’s mind screamed at her as she felt her cheeks heat up. “Very very good, you say?” She should’ve jumped on the friend part, why didn’t she jump on the friend part? When she came down here she didn’t plan on meeting anyone. It was 10:30, and Adam had passed out. He always slept deeply and she never slept these days. She wanted a drink and to wallow. Not shamelessly flirt with a woman she’d just met. A woman who was… well a woman. She had plenty of gay friends, it just wasn’t her. She’d always known she liked men, they liked her, Adam liked her. It’s not that she hadn’t considered being with a woman, but it never felt important enough to explore. She wasn’t gay, that was that.
She watched Amanda chew the inside of her mouth. At some point the bar tender brought her a glass of wine which made Angela notice her third glass was damn near empty. She felt her cheeks hot and knew they were red. She could blame it on the drink, she knew, but it was nice. It was nice to be hit on. It was nice to be wanted. It was nice to be noticed. It certainly helped that this woman was fucking gorgeous. Long brown hair, tan skin, and a smile that lit up the room. She desperately hoped Amanda saw the need in her to keep up whatever was going on between them and not talk about the disastrous night she’d just had.
“So you said you haven’t been hit on in years? Do you live under a rock?” Amanda said curiously. Angela was thankful when the look of pity disappeared. She knew it was likely sympathy, but it always felt like pity when people looked at her that way. Even though Amanda seemed to be very very good at looking at her in a way that made Angela want to be seen.
“It’s just been a while. I don’t usually frequent places like this.” Angela said, “Plus, the whole church girl thing usually turns people off.” Amanda didn’t let her smile waiver for a second. If she had thoughts about that, Angela couldn’t read them.
“I’m sorry, but you don’t give church girl vibes.” Amanda said honestly. Looking at this girl now, Amanda was shocked that anyone would ever be turned off by Angela’s presence. She was electric.
“I guess I don’t anymore, but you should see me during the daylight. She’s a whole other person, I’m sure.” Angela thought of who she was during the day. A wife, a church goer, a woman who lived in the suburbs with her little old rescue dog Adam had almost made her get rid of. She’d named him Spork, Adam hated the name. She hated Adam. She felt her heart beat quicken at the thought, but shook it away focusing on the woman before her. She didn’t hate Adam, he just made her so angry sometimes.
“I do admit that night time Angela is someone I’d like to get to know more, but I would like to meet day time Angela someday.” Amanda said with a small smile. She wanted to know Angela in every way Angela would let Amanda know her.
“I’m like one of those tortured superheroes or something, like Three Faces, or some dumb shit like that,” Angela heard herself saying. Her head found her open palm as she covered her face and groaned, “God, my cousins wouldn’t let me live it down if they heard me make a superhero reference, especially if it was a bad one.“ Spencer alone would’ve had a field day with it. She was excited to see him tomorrow. She missed him. She didn’t see any of them as much as she used to, even though they all lived in the same city.
Amanda laughed, making a note that she also had no idea what the reference was supposed to be, but that she found it funny. She looked down and realized she had finished her drink and felt her heart sink. She wasn’t really planning on having more than one tonight. Silence passed between the two of them.
Angela thought of breakfast with her family tomorrow and felt the wine in her stomach. She liked this, though, she liked the quiet Amanda provided. “Are you here for the weekend?” Amanda said after a moment. Angela felt herself nodding.
“Until Sunday, then back home.” Angela said, not looking at Amanda but staring at the bottles lining the wall behind the bar. She should stop. She should go upstairs, brush her teeth—again, and call it a night. She felt a shift, then a body far closer to her than she was usually comfortable with. She didn’t feel uncomfortable in this moment, though, being this close to Amanda felt right.
Amanda’s hand was slightly outstretched, a small bar napkin between her fingers. She knew she was too close to Angela for someone she just met, but she couldn’t help but feel the pull between the two of them. She was attracted to this woman, but she was also entranced by her. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to hold her. She wanted to kiss her.
Angela looked down at Amanda’s outstretched hand, and felt her fingers reach out to grab the napkin from her. Angela’s eyes wandered up the woman’s body, and her head tilted upward to meet the taller woman’s eyes. She was tall. Angela knew in her socks she’d only come up to the woman’s shoulders, likely. She wanted to kiss her. More silence passed before Amanda spoke. “I’m here until Sunday too. If you ever need to chat, I’m around.”
Amanda felt something twist her chest at the idea of leaving. She hoped Angela would take her up on her offer. She hoped Angela would reach out. She could settle for being friends if it meant having this woman in her life. Angela gave a small nod, and felt the wave of loneliness slip over her again. She didn’t want Amanda to go.
“I mean it. Go get some sleep.” Amanda said with a tenderness Angela hadn’t heard in years. Amanda tilted her head and looked down at Angela holding her gaze. She tried to put as much sincerity into it as possible.
“Walk me to my floor?” Angela felt herself say so softly she wasn’t sure Amanda could hear her. She didn’t know why she was being so needy. If this woman asked her to go back to her room, Angela knew she wouldn’t do it. She also knew, however, that she would regret not doing it for the rest of her life.
She stood in her socks and settled her tab with the credit card she used when she didn’t want Adam to see what she’d been doing. Once it was settled, she walked with Amanda toward the elevator. The silence was comfortable even though it was heavy. She should've told Amanda she was married and went straight back up to bed with Adam, but it was nice to pretend, wasn’t it? It was nice to not talk about what brought her here.
“Floor?” Amanda broke the silence that had weighed over them, but it returned quickly as Angela reached over Amanda’s body to click the bright circle that shined four. Amanda grinned, and felt their skin touch briefly as she lifted her hand to push floor five.
They were standing so close, Angela noted. She thought what her life would be if she had never married Adam. If she was at her brother’s wedding for the weekend, and she was single and she went to the bar for a night cap. If a beautiful woman said hi, and her smooth voice used a dumb pick up line that made Angela fall. She thought about what it would be like to be with a woman. If she would enjoy it. She imagined it couldn’t be that bad. It would be sex, at the very least, good sex at best. She wanted to know if Amanda would live up to her vibrato.
Angela was married, though. She was straight. She was a good Catholic Italian girl. She was going to have seven babies, and she would love all of them equally even though it wasn’t ever what she wanted. That’s who she was. Amanda might be ethereal, but she wasn’t magic. She couldn’t change Angela’s life.
The bell dinged, and Angela felt herself hesitating to leave even though it was her floor. “You’re gonna miss your stop,” Amanda whispered. Angela nodded, and lifted off the wall they’d been leaning on. Her shoulder brushed Amanda’s arm and even when she moved away she could feel where Amanda had touched her.
She felt the napkin gripped in her hand. The palm sweat seeping into it. She hoped the ink hadn’t smeared. She walked out the doors, and paused to look at Amanda one more time before the doors closed. “Goodnight, Amanda,” Angela said softly.
“Goodnight, Angel.” Amanda replied. They both stared at one another as the door shut between them, cutting them off from one another. Amanda felt her body tense, resisting the urge to go back to the fourth floor and do… something. She just wanted more. She didn’t know what she expected out of this weekend, but this certainly wasn’t it. She hoped Angela would take her up on her offer. She hoped she’d hear a vibration from her phone in her pocket before her eyes shut for the night. She hoped that wasn’t the last time she saw Angela.