Between Reel and Reality (Lesbian Romance)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Trading Places

CIERRE

As Amel slices through her ribeye, I struggle to digest the reality that the studmuffin is mine again. Opting for an artistic rendezvous atop a rooftop was a deliberate choice, affording me the opportunity to behold her vulnerability. While the world reveres Amel for her prowess as a singer, dancer, fighter, and sex symbol, few are privy to her raw talent as a painter and sketcher. The act of creation holds a therapeutic sway over Amel, wrapping her in waves of tranquility that can linger for hours, sometimes days. In the early days of our relationship, her turn to art for self-expression was my gauge of her mental well-being. So, to calm any jitters, I orchestrated a painting session for our date, hoping to cultivate a serene atmosphere to test our restored compatibility. To my astonishment, my plan has led us back into each other's arms.

When Amel asked me to be her girlfriend, I thought my delusions had made a jarring comeback. How can she trust me so fast after my misdeeds? As I scrutinized every contour of her faultlessly sculpted face, the waning sunlight cast a final, ethereal glow upon her features. I found warmth and sincerity in her eyes that stirred a tender ache within me. A tumultuous blend of disbelief and elation surged as I realized I hadn't lost my perfect match.

Amel's ageless soul has graciously given me another chance to spend a lifetime together. I can't afford to mishandle it this time.

As she lifts her glass of red wine to her lips, Amel shoots me a knowing glance, a subtle arch of her left brow. "Are you nervous because we're back together or because I'm drinking?" she teases. "I promise, as long as I don't exceed four glasses, I'll be fine, peaches."

"Hummingbird" is the exclusive nickname Amel reserves for me when she's at her absolute softest. When she uses the name, it's my ultimate chance to cash out on her mild, conforming nature.

"Boo" is what Amel calls me when I'm testing her patience or when she's trying to keep things low-key in public.

"Peaches" is her natural, affectionate term for me, tinged with flirtation. She claims my dimples resemble sliced peaches and admires how I balance my sweetness. Like a celestial melody, the term slips from her lips in a delicate cadence, a sensation I haven't witnessed in years.

I let the surreal phenomenon simmer. Amel hits me with their "Why aren't you eating?" look. It's best to avoid getting lovingly cursed out an hour into our relationship. I dig into my asparagus, pleasing my lover. As I chew, I cover my mouth, speaking through bites. "I already texted Diamond and asked how much wine you can consume. It's three glasses. Not four."

I receive a short, slightly impressed laugh as a response. "Diamond's your little informant now?" they ask.

"Mhm," I hum, savoring the tender steak strip on my palette.

Diamond and I aren't "friends" just yet, but we deeply respect each other. While in LA, she contacts Amel daily through phone and video chat, ensuring they have everything they need. When she's concerned about Amel's health, she texts me and gives me tips on what to look out for, like irritability, excessive slurring, and body stiffness. We want the best for our mutual loved one, so we've become each other's "informants." Between little tattles, some tear-jerking, humorous side conversations have occurred. Though she and Amel are still extremely chummy, I'm realizing Diamond is like that with nearly everyone. She'd be the last woman to blindside me.

"If you're not worried about my alcohol intake, then what's on your mind?" Amel asks. "I can tell a million little thoughts are swirling."

"Only a couple," I say before tilting my glass. The earthy wine provides the perfect contrast to the flavors of my meal. After swallowing, I add, "I don't regret saying 'yes' to being your woman again, but I'm a little anxious, angel." Amel briefly hesitates before inserting her fork into her mouth. Her face contorts in a curious expression as she chews. "It feels like this is life or death. We'll make mistakes and argue, and I'm willing to solve most issues. But what if we hurt each other again?"