I was planning to dump all my emotional baggage of today right on her, but the moment she walks in, I know I'll have to listen first.

„What happened?“ I ask her.

„Don't get me started.“

She throws her hair back and pretends to be annoyed, but it's clear that she's actually sad.

May is really sad and it scares me.

„Hey. What's the matter?“

It takes me a while (and a chocolate-peanut-butter-waffle) to coax it out of her, but once she's started, she talks for over half an hour.

She once briefly insinuated that her parents aren't that happy with her dating someone who's not Chinese, but I never thought it was a big deal.

It seems to be though.

„My mother hates him,“ May says and closes her eyes and it hurts me how much this hurts her.

„Maybe they just need time?“

May shakes her head.

„We've been together for three years. It hasn't changed.“

She hiccups and then takes a bite of our waffle.

„My dad isn't even that bothered. He likes Chris because Chris likes football and the food my dad cooks. I think he's got over the fact that he's Irish pretty quickly. But my mom...“

May shakes her head. „I think she always wanted me to, you know. Teach my kids Shanghainese and Mandarin and follow the tradition and everything. And I do plan to teach my children the language and all that stuff, but... I mean, I live here. In New York. I've never lived in Shanghai. I love it, but New York is my home. And I love Chris.“

„There's nothing wrong with that.“

„It's wrong to my mom. She sees it as disrespecting my heritage.“

„Why did your parents move here again?“

„Because of my dad's work.“

„So your mom never wanted to leave China in the first place.“

May shakes her head. „I know she misses it.“

I take May's hand and squeeze.

„I understand that this is hard, but in the end, it's your decision, May.“

„I know. But... you don't know my mom. It's so hard. Having her disagreeing with me like that.“

„But it's not like you'd be trying to erase your culture.“

May looks at me offended. „Of course not. I love my family. I just... wish my mom would understand I can love them and love it here too.“

If I'm honest, I'm not sure I even quite understand the problem. I feel like May is giving her mother what she wants.

But apparently I'm missing something.

I don't know what it's like to have roots elsewhere. I mean, I'm sure if I'd look into it, I'd find out too that I'm partly Norwegian or French or something. But I have no idea how May must feel.

„I just want to make her proud,“ May says and it's scary how this confident girl suddenly seems so small.

„Stand up for yourself and eventually, she will be.“

But May shakes her head. „No. She's be happy if I'd find a nice Chinese boy and married him and maybe spend some years in China to raise my kids there. Even when my dad tells her she's being too strict with me, it doesn't help. He tried talking to her, saying he doesn't think I'm disrespectful, but my mom...“

„Then make yourself proud, May. In the end, that's all that matters.“

She blinks at me. Swallows and smiles. „That's difficult.“

„I know.“

She shrugs and stuffs another huge bite into her mouth. „Okay, your turn.“

„Sure? We can talk more about it if you want to.“

She shakes her head. „I'm done talking about it for now.“

„Okay. Well...“

„Well?“ she prompts, scanning the menu for beverages.

„I talked to Finn today.“

„Oh. Interesting. What did he say? What did you say?“

I give her a short summary of our talk and by the end, she puts her hand on her heart.

„He's such a sweet one.“

„I know.“

„But if Chris would be saying shit like I don't need to be monogamous, he'd find himself cuffed to my bed sooner than he can say unfair.“

May grimaces. „Okay, that sounded crasser than I meant it. But... you get the idea.“

„Yeah. I don't think it's for me either.“

„So... tell me about your feelings.“

I give May a look. „I'm bad at that.“

„I know. Try anyway.“

I sigh and finish the remains of the waffle.

„Okay, then I'll start for you. One, you're still in love with Delilah. Two, see number one.“

I resist the urge to drop my head on the table. „I hate myself.“

May pats my shoulder. „We've all been there. So what about Finn?“

„I want to like him better than her.“

„But you don't.“

„I mean... I think he's a better partner than she is.“

„Yet you don't see him like that.“

„Like what?“

„Like someone you'd want to be in a relationship with.“

I fiddle with my fork. „I think I might be getting more of a friendship vibe.“

„Yeah, I think that too.“ May sounds so convinced that it surprises me.

„You hardly know him.“

„I've seen you together at the club.“

„And that's why you think now that I'm not interested?“

„Yup.“

„Okay. Wow. Why?“

She frowns at me. „I mean, sorry, but... to me, it seems like there's zero chemistry. I believe you when you say you like him, because he is very likable, but... he just seems like your gay best friend.“

„That's stereotyping.“

„If it helps, I could also say it the other way around. You seem like his gay best friend.“

I blink at her. „Fuck.“

„Leah, are you even into guys?“

„Yeah. I mean, I usually prefer girls. But...“

„If I may be frank, it seems almost strange to see you with one.“

„That's just because you always think of Delilah. I've had a boyfriend before.“

„When?“

„In highschool.“

„That doesn't count.“

„Why doesn't it count?“ I'm starting to get annoyed with this. I hate when people are trying to erase bisexuality.

I hate it even more when I have to question myself over and over again.

Because, yes. May is kind of right. It feels strange to be with Finn. Not painfully strange, but... just like something would be a little off.

I try to remember how I used to feel with Owen, my first (and only) boyfriend. It's hard. I know I thought I loved him. I'd run my hands through his curls and smile when he kissed me on my cheek.

But did I ever picture him at night – smooth brown skin over impressive muscles (he was a basketballer – jackpot)? Was I really attracted to him?

I shake my head.

„What does it even matter?“ I ask.

„It doesn't,“ May concedes. „It only matters if you're into Finn. And, sorry, sweetie, but you're not. Everyone can tell you're not.“

I sink back in my chair and sigh. „Why is that?“

„Why is what?“

„That we always want things we shouldn't?“

I'll meet Caden's girlfriend next week and I'm not sure who of us is more nervous about it.

Well, him. Definitely him. But it's strange to me too.

„Be nice,“ he tells me now every day and after the third time, I've snapped at him that if he says that one more time, I'll make sure his girlfriend will never set foot over our doorstep again.

That had him sulking in his room and gave me a much needed break.

I'm always sitting in front of my notes, trying to be productive, but it's hard. I'm thinking about Delilah all the time. And I mean, all the time.

I can't even brush my teeth without thinking about her. It's absolutely crazy.

There is this fist around my heart again, the fist that makes breathing so fucking hard.

I don't want this again. I don't want to be such a wreck because of some girl. I'm the queen of not needing anyone, aren't I?

It's ridiculous to get this caught up in someone else. And it's pathetic if that someone else is a liar and a cheat.

Even now, I can feel that Delilah isn't completely honest with me. That should be enough for me to finally let her go.

But it seems like I'm unable to.

When May tells me she'll take me out this Friday, I don't really want to go. I'm not in the mood to party.

But I am in the mood for drinking and I know that it's probably better to go out with her than to be sitting around in my apartment all day, pretending to study.

„Wear something pretty,“ she tells me and hangs up.

I go for some mom jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

Not for the first time when I look in the mirror, I contemplate whether to cut my hair. Cut it really short, shorter than Finn's. But that's what everyone does after a breakup, so up until now, I refused to.

Maybe someday.

The bar May and Chris bring me to appeals to me instantly.

It's small and dimly lit, everything wooden and the faintest smell of smoke in the air. Across the room is a small stage.

„Is there going to be a show tonight?“ I ask.

May doesn't look up from the menu. „A small one.“

„What can I get my girls?“ Chris asks, grinning at us, one hand on May's shoulder.

I take a Gin Tonic and May a beer and when Chris gets back with the drinks, I feel myself starting to relax.

„This place is nice,“ I tell them.

„Yeah, it is. I used to come here with my friends all the time,“ Chris says, taking a sip from his beer.

„You don't anymore?“

The ginger shrugs with one shoulder.

„Not often. Gabe moved to Boston for his residency, Sang has a son now and Lionel goes clubbing with his boyfriend basically every weekend.“

A strange feeling shoots through me as I listen to Chris. Compassion and envy and sadness, all mixed up.

„They used to hang out all the time when Chris started college,“ May says.

Chris smiles. „We did.“

„How did you meet?“ I ask, genuinely curious.

„Well, so. Sang and I've known each other since kindergarten. We were, like, best bros since day one. In highschool, Gabe joined our two-man-team. Mostly because his mom always drove us to swim practice. Lionel and Gabe hit it off in college immediately and so we all started hanging out with him too.“

„Sounds nice,“ I say, not really knowing what else to say.

„It was. I mean, we spent most of our time being stupid shits, but it was fun. Man, we had some great times.“

May and I nod, even though I don't really understand. I've never had anything like that. I always wanted to, but I guess I never met the right people. Or maybe I wasn't in the right place.

„But you're still close,“ May says to Chris with a slight frown.

„Oh, yeah. I guess. Sang and I still talk at least once every week. But it's just different from how it used to be. Especially with Gabe in Boston. He's never free.“

„You said residency. Does he want to become a doctor?“ I ask.

„Yup. An orthopedist. And that seems to kick ass, because he literally has no days off.“

I want to ask him more about his friends, but before I can, the lights dim even further and someone steps on the stage only a few metres away from our table.

As soon as I see who it is, I want to run.

May puts a hand on my knee. „Stay, please. Give her a chance.“

My heart is racing and my palms are sweaty as I stare at Delilah.

She smiles and, Jesus. She looks oh so gorgeous in her black dress.

With a smile directed only at me, she lifts the microphone to her mouth.

„Good evening, everyone. I'm here tonight for a very special person. Someone who's been stuck in my head for one year and six months now.“

She lowers her gaze for a moment. Then smiles back up at me.

„Leah, darling. This one's for you.“

I think I'm about to faint.

The song she picked is not one I know. It's probably also not one that I'd usually listen to, but right here, right now, it breaks my heart.

Because it depicts all the good and all the uncertainty I felt when I first met her. It's what I still feel so often.

The last verse, ended on a breathy exhale, almost has me crying.

All I do the whole day through is dream of you.

Delilah puts down the microphone and gives a short little bow. May puts her hand on my knee and squeezes.

I'm fighting my trembling heart.

Delilah looks at me as she leaves the stage, apparently oblivious to all the people who applaud and want her to sing another one.

She approaches our table and stops there, directly in front of me, locking eyes with me.

„I know it's not that easy. I know I fucked up and I know you don't trust me. But I want to make this work. I've never wanted anything so much.“

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. „Let's talk outside, yeah?“

May makes room for me and squeezes my hand before I follow Delilah out of the bar.

It's cold outside, so cold, I start shivering immediately.

„You're not honest with me,“ I say.

She meets my gaze evenly. „I am. I've been honest about my feelings for you all along. I like you, Leah. So much more than I wanted to.“

I cross my arms. „But you're still holding things back. Why did you come to New York in the first place?“

„Why do you think there was such a specific reason?“

„Because I know you. And I know when you're lying.“

A strange expression passes Delilah's face. „Okay. Fine. I'll tell you. Come back to mine?“

I've never been at Delilah's new place.

It still looks like she'd just crashed here. Not really like a home yet.

But there are her clothes carelessly thrown over a chair, her scent in the sheets.

I don't want to leave.

„Do you want a drink?“

„Do you?“

„Yeah, I need one.“

I follow her into the kitchen.

„Didn't you say you have a roommate?“

„Oh, I do. But she's gone a lot. Especially on the weekends. Is vodka soda okay?“

„Sure.“ I watch her preparing a drink for me and my heart slams against my ribcage as if it would want to get out.

I'd let it, if I could. But I can't. I'm stuck with it and so I'm stuck with her.

Leaving feels so impossible.

„Come here.“

I sit down next to Delilah on the brown sofa. She hugs one leg against her chest.

„This is not a pretty story,“ she tells me.

„I didn't expect it to be.“

She watches me for a moment, then begins to talk.

Delilah

Justin Kincaid entered my life shortly after I graduated highschool.

The story of our first meeting is a boring one.

I went to a party of one of my girlfriends. He was invited along by one of his guy friends. I saw him first and thought he was cute. He saw me and was enchanted.

We made out that night and I liked him well enough to agree to go on a date with him. What I liked most about him, I think now, was his unpredictability. He kept some things hidden at first and I was intrigued by the challenge.

Many guys are rather simple and that's boring.

Our story isn't even really worth telling, that's how generic it is. Right up until I didn't get my period in August.

I didn't think much of it first. My body isn't a clockwork. Periods can be late.

But two weeks late is a lot and so I bought one of those cute little pregnancy tests, bearing the judging looks of the cashier.

When I found out I'm pregnant, I didn't lose my head. I was shocked for about five minutes, cried maybe two, and then I knew what to do.

I informed Justin with a text. We weren't even a couple.

I told my parents because I thought they wouldn't hate me. Be mad, of course. But not hate me.

I was only half right.

None of them hated me when I told them at first. My mother was shocked and asked how that could have happened. I told her I don't know. I must have forgotten the pill one time, even though that's not like me.

My father didn't say much.

When my mother started thinking about the best arrangements to help me raise a child, I went into my dad's private office and told him I'm getting an abortion.

He looked at me for a moment and nodded. „Okay, honey. It's your decision.“

It was my dad who drove me to the clinic, who sat through the appointments with me and then picked me up when it was done.

Getting an abortion is not fun, I can tell you that. It hurts and it's shameful and you feel like shit.

But I never regretted my decision. I know that having a child at that time would have destroyed all my plans for the future and as an unhappy mother, I'd raise an unhappy child.

„I think you did the right thing,“ Leah says.

I look at her.

No one has said that to me before. Ever.

My dad always made it very clear that it was my choice and mine alone and he'd support me whatever I wanted to do and he kept his promise.

But no one looked at me with conviction in their eyes and said it was right.

I swallow.

„Yes. I know. Thank you for saying that though.“

Leah threads her fingers through mine. I squeeze, then take another swig from my drink.

Maybe it was a mistake not to have a proper conversation with Justin beforehand, explaining my reasons and making him feel a little more involved.

But I honestly just wish I'd have never told him in the first place.

He asked me to meet him at his place a couple days after I got the abortion and he sounded so upset, I agreed. I wanted to give him the chance to express his anger or sadness or whatever it was that he was bottling up and also tell him that we wouldn't see each other again.

When I stood in his room and confirmed that, yes, I terminated the pregnancy, he slapped me.

At first, I was too shocked to do anything. Then, I scrambled for my phone and was about to call the police, when Justin broke down.

He was crying and begging and pleading and apologizing.

When he said „It was my child,“ I couldn't look at him any longer.

„I'll let you get away with that. Only this once. Touch me ever again, I'll have you put in jail.“

With that I walked out on him.

I thought I could close that chapter of my life now.

But Justin wouldn't let me.

He started stalking me. He showed up at my home, at my friends' houses, at every party I attended.

I told my dad about it and he went to the police with me.

They didn't do anything about it – until Justin attacked me again, at a party. He broke my arm and I went straight to the police, cradling my arm and with ten witnesses in the pocket.

Justin did me a huge favor by losing his temper in front of my friends. His attorney was a good one, but he couldn't keep him out of jail, not even with the help of his rich daddy.

Justin went to jail for two years and six months and I went to college.

Last summer, he showed up at my door again, murder in his eyes, and I decided to leave for New York.

Leah runs her hand up and down my arm, eyes shocked. „What an asshole.“

„He was.“

„So you left Boston because you were afraid of him?“

I take a swig from my drink and think about it. „Not really. I mean, I am afraid of him, sometimes. But it was more that... he was a ghost from my past. It's been such a long time and the last thing I wanted was to have to think about that again. About what I've done and what he's done. So I... opted for the coward move and left the city while my father took care of Justin.“

„What do you mean by that?“

„He threatened him, I guess. We're really rich, Leah.“

That makes her laugh. „I noticed.“

We're silent.

I set the drink down and slowly crawl over. Straddling her lap.

She looks up at me.

I love to be able to look at her like that. Sharp features softened. Eyes big and vulnerable.

Her hand settle on my hips and I want her to hold me. I've missed it so much.

„Why did you come back this year?“ she asks, quietly.

I trace her cheekbones with my fingertips. „Several reasons. One was definitely you. The most important one.“

„What were the other ones?“

„Work.“

„And?“

„I'd rather not talk about the last one right now. I'll tell you someday.“

She doesn't like it, but for now, she accepts it.

When I kiss her, it feels like finally lying down after a long, hard day of work.

I'm not sure how long we sit there, arms wrapped around each other, just kissing. Like we'd have all the time in the world.

Only when we come up for air and I notice Leah glancing at the clock, anxiety is flaring inside of me again.

„Stay,“ I ask her.

Her face turns into glass. Easily breakable. „Do you really want me to?“

„Yes. Please stay with me.“

And she does.

She lets me drag her to the bed and we crawl under the sheets together, legs entangled.

I pull her on top of me, her hair tickling my chest. A smile ghosts around her mouth and then she's kissing me again.

Her hands and kisses are wandering down, exploring my body. She has it all mapped out already and always pays attention to all of my hotspots.

I've never had such a generous lover before. She makes me want to try so much harder to please her.

When I moan into the quiet darkness, I feel her smile against my naked belly, my shirt pushed up .

Leah likes to take her time. So much so, that sometimes I feel like screaming, shouting at her to hurry the hell up.

But I know I love it. I've never been touched that way before. So sure and deliberate. So eager yet patient.

She keeps me up until the early morning and we fall asleep with our limbs entangled, no space between us.

When I wake up the next morning,for a split second I don't know why I'm so happy.

But then I notice the warm body pressed against me and the scent in my pillow and I smile widely.

„Hey.“ Leah smiles at me.

I grin back and rub my nose against hers because that's what she makes of me. A goddamn baby. „Hi.“

We kiss and then she drags me out of bed.

In the kitchen, we run into Casey who looks thouroughly debauched.

„Morning,“ she says, merely glancing up from her phone. Her curls are an explosion around her head, almost like an afro.

„Morning, Casey,“ I say and give her a pointed look.

She rolls her eyes, grabs her coffee and says: „I'll leave you to it.“

„Thank you,“ I call after her with my sweetest voice, before turning back to Leah and kissing her.

I love that she's just a tiny bit taller than me. I can reach her no problem, but I get to be the one to tilt her head back just a little, so our mouths fit perfectly.

One of her hands sneaks its way under my shirt (a tee and panties is all I'm wearing) and I grin against her lips.

„Make me breakfast?“ I ask her and she pulls back, shaking her head.

A smile plays around the corners of her mouth. „You're such a princess.“

I blow her a kiss. „Thanks, love.“

„That wasn't a compliment.“

But she's smiling.

Leah makes breakfast and I make coffee and Casey is talking loudly on the phone in her room, making us laugh.

We eat at my shitty kitchen table in my shitty kitchen, mismatched cutlery and glasses and delicious pancakes piled in front us.

I can't stop touching Leah. It's bad, it's really bad and I don't know what to do with myself.

But I don't want to fight this anymore. I'm at that point where I don't even care anymore if she breaks my heart.

It's a foreign thought. I've always been the one to break hearts. Always.

And now I'm giving my own up, give it to her, allowing her to break it.

It feels strangely right.