“I understand the science of it,” Amelia said. “The relentless cortisol cycle of modern-day life. It’s biochemistry.” Amelia didn’t just like Jill because she could be very straightforward in a non-threatening way, she also very much liked the fact that she was a doctor—that she had the knowledge that kept Amelia from having to explain certain things. “I used to be able to break that cycle by playing soccer and spending time with my friends, until that stopped being enough.”
Jill didn’t interrupt her. Amelia supposed being a therapist made her the best listener in all of Sydney, possibly Australia. Another attribute to admire in Jill, who also had the most mesmerizing, perpetually half-lidded eyes.
“And it’s so insidious. I never even noticed until it was too late and for that…” Very much aware that she was dominating the conversation, Amelia paused. Jill gave her a gentle, encouraging nod. “For that I blame capitalism. It just sucks you dry. When you really start thinking what capitalism has done to our humanity, it’s simply mind-boggling.” She brought a hand to her chest. “Not just to me, with my burnout, but to so many people in so many forms. The exploitation. The non-stop pursuit of profit at the expense of the environment. But also to our brain.” Amelia shook her head. “They don’t teach you any of that in school. At least they didn’t in my day.”
“Some things can’t be taught in school,” Jill said. “Some things are only learned by living life.”
The server stopped by to retrieve their empty plates.
“Do you think me suffering from burnout is life teaching me a lesson?” Amelia asked after the server had gone.
“That’s not what I was implying.”
“I know, but—” Amelia took a breath. “God, I’m doing it again. I feel like we need a safe word.”
“For what?” Jill skimmed her fingertip over the rim of her glass. The gesture made Amelia feel something she couldn’t identify.
“For me banging on and on about myself and all my insecurities.”
“That’s not how I see it. It’s all right to be vulnerable, Amelia. If anything, I’m flattered you can still talk to me about this outside my office.”
“I made an appointment with Dr. Scarpa,” Amelia said, by way of apology. “She can start seeing me in two weeks.”
“I know the lines are blurred between us,” Jill said. “While I’m no longer your therapist, that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me and it certainly doesn’t mean that I won’t help where I can. I’m here for you.”
What Amelia liked about Jill most of all was her abundant kindness. “Thank you.” If they hadn’t been in a restaurant, Amelia would have jumped out of her chair and kissed Jill there and then.
The server dropped by with the dessert menu. Amelia only pretended to glance at it. She knew what she wanted for dessert and it wasn’t to be found on that menu. She waited for Jill to put hers down.
“How about,” Amelia offered, “we go for a walk instead?” Amelia surprised herself by being so forward, but she guessed that was the result of Jill being so open about how smitten she was with her. It left far less room for self-doubt.
“A walk it is.” Jill agreed, a grin plastered across her face.
Maybe Dawn had been right. Maybe Amelia had never paid the right kind of attention to women who would take her seriously—to women like Jill. Maybe it was time she started focusing on that part of her life, despite not feeling ready for it yet. But what would being ready actually feel like? She was on a dream date with a dream woman who had all the right feelings for her. Even if Amelia didn’t feel 100% ready, surely the circumstances were pushing her toward it.
After an awkward few minutes during which Jill insisted on paying—“No is simply not an option”—and Amelia vowed that, in that case, she would pay next time, they stood outside the restaurant.
“We’ve been to your place,” Jill said. “How about a walk to mine for a nightcap?”
As soon as they started walking, Amelia hooked her arm into Jill’s. There was a slight chill in the air and Amelia had to stop herself from throwing her arm all the way around Jill to make sure she was warm enough.
“I might have mentioned that I’m a footballer,” Amelia said. “How do you relax after work?”
“Books and wine,” Jill said without missing a beat. “I belong to a book club called ‘Reading between the wines’.”
“Do you actually read the books or just drink the wine?” Amelia reveled in the warmth of Jill’s body next to hers, in walking in step with another woman.
“Truth be told, due to the aforementioned capitalism, because most of us are always too busy doing something else, our little club hasn’t gotten together in months. I don’t have to tell you how it goes.” Jill stilled. “I always read the books, though. But I often ‘read between the wines’ on my own.” She chuckled. “I also love movies. And art. And I keep an eye on what’s on at Sydney Opera House.”
“Sounds very highbrow.” Amelia held onto Jill’s arm a little tighter as she guided them toward her house.
“Maybe that’s what it sounds like, but I actually despise arty-farty-ness for the sake of it. If it doesn’t make sense to me one way or another, I’m out.”
“What are you saying? That you’re more of a multiplex woman than an arthouse cinema one?”
“God no.” Jill leaned into her a little. “Maybe I am a touch arty-farty, depending on the observer. To myself, I’m not.”
They turned a corner.
“I just like good entertainment. I like to be moved. Maybe learn something about the human spirit along the way. That’s it. My standards aren’t so high, are they?”
“From my point of view, your standards are impeccable.” Amelia glanced sideways and looked straight into Jill’s eyes.
“You would say that.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t.” Amelia slowed their step. “When you’ve been where I’ve been mentally, your self-esteem really takes a hit. But your interest in me has done me the world of good.”
“I’m glad that excruciating moment in therapy was good for something,” Jill said.
“I can imagine it was difficult for you, but I really admire you for telling me. That’s a hard thing to do. I don’t think I could have done that.”
“I had no choice,” Jill said. “I can’t put my own interests before the client’s.”
“But still.”
“But still,” Jill repeated, and steered them toward a small town house. She unlocked the door and ushered Amelia in. “Here we are.” She switched on the lights.
“Wow.” Amelia didn’t know where to look first. “You weren’t kidding about being into art.” A number of paintings covered the walls, and a built-in bookcase that stretched all the way to the ceiling, filled to the brim. “And about reading.” On instinct, Amelia walked to the bookcase. Propped against a few book spines, she spotted an invitation to an art show opening.
Jill picked up the invite. “Maybe you could come with me?” She arched up her eyebrows. “My favorite gallery. It’s in Potts Point.” She pointed at a painting on the opposite wall. “I got that one there and”—she nodded in the direction of a painting above the chimney—“that one as well. I know the owners.”
“Did you just ask me out on another date? Before this one has even ended?” Amelia held out her hand for the invitation. “When is it?”
“Thursday next week.” Jill gave her the glossy white card with red and blue splotches of paint embossed in it.
“I have soccer practice on Thursdays.” Amelia studied the invitation. The Griffith-Porter gallery, it said.
“Too bad.” Jill tilted her head.
“I have been known to skip practice on occasion the past couple of months, but never to be arty-farty with a beautiful woman.” She beamed Jill a smile.
“What’s the penalty for missing practice? Being benched?” Jill took a step closer. “Because I was planning to come and watch you play.”
“The Darlinghurst Darlings don’t have a spare goalkeeper so my position’s pretty safe.” Amelia put the invitation back on the bookshelf. Heat fizzled underneath her skin. She wanted the nightcap Jill had offered to mainly consist of kissing and she was getting the impression Jill might be on the same page about that.
“I’ll be there,” Jill whispered.
“I’ve had a very lovely time with you tonight.” Gingerly, Amelia lifted up Jill’s injured hand. “Do you need me to change that bandage?”
Jill shook her head. “I would like you to do something else for me, though.”
“Anything.” Amelia gazed into Jill’s eyes.
“Come here.” Jill tugged her closer. “And kiss me.”
Butterflies flapped their tiny wings in Amelia’s stomach. She stepped closer to Jill, and cupped her cheeks with her hands. What a strange sensation to feel so numb, so utterly uninterested in anything, to have her brain suffused by nothing but anxiety and thought loops that got her nowhere and then rise from near-nothingness to this. This surge in her blood. This energy buzzing through her skin. To face this glorious, kind woman waiting to be kissed by her. Jill, who saw something in Amelia that she believed she had lost, that was buried under layers of disillusion and the aftereffects of the hormonal imbalance that had knocked Amelia so off course.
What an odd time to fall in love.
When Amelia pressed her lips gently against Jill’s, it wasn’t just the delicious memory of the previous time they had done this that washed over her. The soft meeting of their lips was a gesture filled with hope, with a glimpse of how life could be different again. This time around, after the lovely evening they’d just had, there was no sign of glaring red lights or annoying klaxons going off in her brain. There was just the tenderness of Jill’s lips, and how she opened them, to welcome Amelia’s tongue.
The intimacy of that took Amelia to a whole new level of knowing that, yes, this was what she had missed. Only, she’d had no real way of knowing before. Because she’d never kissed a woman like Jill before. Well, she’d never had a therapist before—but that wasn’t the biggest distinguishing factor here.
Maybe Amelia had met women like Jill, but if she had, she’d been too preoccupied with other things to notice. The reason why she’d never been in a long-term relationship wasn’t so much the women she had ended up with before—the ones Dawn claimed weren’t serious enough about her—it was Amelia subconsciously picking them because of their aloofness, their obvious desire to remain unattached—all the things Amelia saw mirrored in them because that was how she presented herself.
Jill pressed herself against Amelia’s body, the swell of her breasts easily noticeable. While their tongues continued to explore each other’s mouths, Amelia’s legs went a little limp. A hardness that had snuck into her muscles months ago, gave way to something a lot softer, a lot more malleable, a lot more receptive to this utterly divine sensation of kissing a woman without qualms. Without projecting into the future and how badly this could possibly end. Without expectations. It was just a kiss. A coming together of two women who really fancied each other—who were falling in love with each other. Not a single cell in Amelia’s body wanted to shut this down.
Jill ran a hand along Amelia’s side and despite her touch being featherlight, it sent sparks all the way down between Amelia’s legs, to that deep spot that had seemed so dead all this time. She leaned into Jill’s touch, letting her know she wanted more of that, more of her. Jill obliged. She dug her fingertips into Amelia’s flesh a little deeper, a little more intentionally.
So Jill wanted more as well—not that Amelia ever had many doubts about that. Maybe that was what had brought her here, to kissing Jill against her massive bookshelf and enjoying every single second of it. Jill’s honesty and how she said, earlier, that she’d had no choice but to tell Amelia. As if curbing her emerging feelings for Amelia was simply not an option. That had been the spark and now here she was—so much further than she’d imagined herself to be.
They broke apart, coming up for air, their lips eager for more but in need of a break. Jill looked at Amelia, her glance searching—maybe for any signs of the distress Amelia had displayed the first time they’d kissed.
“Are you okay with this?” Jill asked.
“Fuck yeah.” Amelia draped her arms around Jill’s neck.
“It’s not too much?”
“The opposite.” Amelia leaned in again, but instead of finding Jill’s lips with hers, she found her ear, and whispered, “Thank you for giving me this.”