Face Of The Monster

***15***

Phoebe Kim is a cheater, and she knows it.

Emma's lipstick is all over her skin, bruises forming from her teeth and nails. Their hair is tangled together and the top buttons of their shirts are open. Emma's earrings are on the desk with Phoebe's glasses, their shame tucked away in one of Phoebe's desk drawers to get out again later.

Phoebe Kim is a cheater, but it hardly feels that way. It almost feels like Emma is the real thing and everything she had with Chloe was only a sham, a stand-in for true love.

They're on the couch in Phoebe's office, breathing hard. Emma has her head tucked under Phoebe's, her lips sucking on the skin right above her collarbone. Phoebe knows there will be a bruise, but she doesn't stop her. It feels intoxicatingly wonderful.

She has her arms wrapped around Emma's waist, her fingers slipping under the waistband of her pants. She keeps thinking about Chloe, but not in a guilty way. Her thoughts keep drifting back to a key phrase: I should leave her.

Phoebe doesn't necessarily want to leave Chloe. She loves her and they have a pretty good thing going for them. Living with her is easy and pleasant, most of the time. They can make each other laugh and they can be silent together. They try new things together and appreciate the old hand in hand. How could Phoebe give up something so solid, so time tested, for something else she has only just stumbled across?

But with Emma, she feels different. Different how, she can't quite say. But it's there, and it's strange. With Chloe, she appreciates an occasional hug or kiss or night of lovemaking, but with Emma, she feels like she can't live without the little touches. She wants her all the time, thinks about her all the time.

The rational part of her brain knows that leaving Chloe won't solve the problem. Emma has a family. She has a husband, a dying husband, and two children. It doesn't matter what happens with Chloe. The rest of them will still be in the way.

Besides, she can't leave Chloe now. The inflammation has grown worse, pressing in on her kidneys and brain. She's home right now with a UTI, drinking cranberry juice and binge watching Stranger Things.

But for right now, she has Emma to herself and it doesn't matter what anyone else is doing. She thinks of what she said the other day about how many people they could hurt, but it doesn't seem real from this breathtaking skydive of pleasure. She shivers, holding Emma tighter.

"We should run away," Emma murmurs. "We can save up our money and disappear somewhere in Wyoming or Utah or someplace where nobody'll ever find us."

It's a lovely thought, leaving all of this behind. They would never have to see their family again, no more "friends" to entertain. It would just be the two of them and, Phoebe imagines, perhaps the baby.

But someone would find them. Someone always does. The thought brings Phoebe back to Earth. She sits up, wiping lipstick from her mouth with the back of her sleeve. She buttons her shirt back up.

"Come back," Emma begs. She winds her hand around a lock of Phoebe's hair, grasping it tighter when she tries to stand up. Emma's eyes are wild with lust, pleading.

Phoebe extracts her fingers from her hair. "We have to stop doing this," she says. She ducks out of the office and into the bathroom, hiding her face from Lars who sits knowingly behind his desk, pen tapping rhythmically. He's working on his homework, which Phoebe doesn't mind. Part of the reason she hired him in the first place was because she felt bad and wanted to help him pay his college expenses. He might as well get in a little studied on his down time.

In the bathroom, Phoebe throws water over her face, scrubbing away the smeared lipstick marks on her cheeks and neck. She imagines Chloe pulling back her collar, finding a smudge of red. She scrubs harder.