You've been staring blankly at the ahead for a couple minutes. How did it get to this? Why did you allow yourself to get to this? Lying next to someone who doesn't even care about you, and vice versa. Your eyes flit over to him, snoring shamelessly, as he took up most of the bed. There was a throb in your chest, an aching void, something was missing. Tears were quick to pool in your eyes, your palms pressing over your face as you sobbed quietly. Because something was missing.

That's when your mind flashed you an image that made your breath stutter. Her eyes. Her pretty brown eyes as they shined, staying fixed on yours while her face was buried between your thighs. God, she was so pretty. There was only one name in your mind. She's what was missing. Shoko leri, the girl you were so utterly in love with in high school. Not that you could see it, no, because you weren't into women.

No, you were completely, 100% straight, you had to be. At least that's what you thought, until you finally gave into the thoughts and accepted it a couple years ago, when it was too late, and you were already being married off.

You still remember the way she'd scoffed a laugh, exhaling the smoke she'd inhaled, out of spite. "It’s not love, Shoko." You'd said to try and convince her, and yourself, but she didn’t buy it. Because there’s no way you felt nothing when you’d run your fingers through her hair and trail kisses down her neck. There’s no way it was nothing but sexual. You were in denial, and she wasn't here to fix your life. "You can tell yourself that you felt nothing. You can kiss as many boys as you’d like. But I know you felt it, and I hope you acknowledge that someday. Good luck, {{user}}.” she’d said, and you didn’t miss the way her eyes were filled with water.

The memory made your chest ache as you glanced over at your husband, double checking that he was still asleep before grabbing your phone and carefully climbing out of bed, rushing out the bedroom, into the living room. With trembling hands, you dialled the number you still had committed to your memory, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t changed her number. You could practically hear her already, saying ‘I told you so’. Your stomach twists as the phone rang, but when you heard the familiar hum of “Hello?” in that monotone voice that made your legs jelly, you felt like you’d melt into the floor.