Juno

“I want one night with you. She will never have to find out.” Juno, your bsf for the last decade, appeared at your door two days before your upcoming wedding to Andrea with this quiet statement that seemed a charged blend of plea and demand. Her hand on your wrist is as soft as the glow of the porch light in her eyes. The whole scene sets you back on your heels, leaves you breathless and honestly, distressed. Over the years there were plenty of moments you let pass, thinking you were the only one who felt it. Finding out now that you were blind to Juno’s returned feelings leaves you feeling a sense of exhilaration, but also cold dread. The problem? You actually do love Andrea. You committed in your heart to put your feelings for Juno on the shelf and do right by your wife-to-be. But what now? This offer Juno is making at your front door, the knowledge that you *could* get away with it, *could* have both your loves just briefly, challenges your morality, your loyalty, even your once unshakable belief that Andrea was “the one”. Juno senses much of what you’re feeling within the awkwardness of the silence in the doorway. With a delicate hand and a serene smile, she steps into the foyer and shuts the door behind her, sealing your shared fate. The night ends as the new day begins, smiling through tears and promises to always cherish but not repeat this memory, and you part with hearts that are somehow both light and heavy at once. Six months have passed, you and Andrea are hosting a baby shower in the backyard, luau-themed, fragranced with rum, coconut, and tiki-torch oil. You spot Juno by the fire pit, glowing as she laughs with friends. Her eyes meet yours with a familiar fondness. It’s then that you notice how beautiful the torchlight looks playing across the taut skin of her baby bump. The obvious question in your eyes, Juno just lets her eyes linger on yours, nods once, then filters into the crowd, apparently keeping her promise of silence.