Free Bliss by Fiona Zedde

the grapevine that she was a good lay. Is
that true?"
    "I thought you were trying to make me feel better?"
    "Yeah, but I might as well get some juicy info, too."
    Sinclair laughed bitterly and held out her glass for more.
"If you're in the market for a month of the best sex you've
ever had, then give her a call. But don't expect to get any
more than that. She's got a misses or mister at home."
    "A girl could get off a lot in thirty days." Shelly looked
like she was thinking about it.
    Sinclair leaned back in her chair, already taking on the lazy
slouch of the pleasantly inebriated. "She was amazing. She
made me feel like I had a golden pussy and she couldn't get
enough. This is going to be hard as hell to get through."
    "But you'll make it, boss lady. You better. That bitch is not
worth the breakdown."
    "You're right." Sinclair sounded utterly unconvinced.
    "Maybe you should use another woman to bury your
troubles in." Shelly raised her thin eyebrows and did a fair
imitation of an old man's lecherous leer.
    Find someone else? This was the worst thing that had hap pened to Sinclair in a long time. She couldn't compare this to
her grandmother's death five years ago. That was the only
thing that had shaken her harder, made her question living.
Today made her wonder why, after all these years of successfully protecting her feelings, had Regina slipped inside her so
easily? Because she was a woman, stupid. Your first. It had
never been like this with men. Never.

    "You definitely need a break," Shelly said. She dangled her
feet over the edge of Sinclair's desk.
    "This little pep talk and drinking session are doing wonders for me, thanks." There wasn't an ounce of sarcasm in
Sinclair's voice.
    "But what about tomorrow or the next day? You can't
drink your unhappiness away. Don't become another dyke
statistic. That's so not sexy."
    The woman was right again. This was going to have to be
her last glass. It wouldn't be smart to get on the subway
stumbling down drunk, no matter how appealing the relief
would be. At least she would be able to fall asleep quickly
tonight with no more than an hour or two of tossing and
turning.
    "Tell me about yourself, Shelly. Tell me anything that will
make this shit disappear for a little while."
    "What do you want to know?" Shelly's voice was soft.
    "Anything. Tell me anything."
    I'm screwed, Sinclair thought with a bitter smile as she sat
in a taxi crawling toward home in rush-hour traffic. But
worse than that, Regina had changed her. Now she knew
what fulfilling sex was like. She knew what happened when
her body was satisfied and her mind at rest, not wondering if
she was normal for not wanting to be close to the person
who she was supposed to be with. Sinclair finally understood
that she loved women-even this woman-more than she'd
ever loved any of her boyfriends. And Regina made her pay
for that knowledge.

    If she had told her in the beginning that all it was and
could ever be between them was a fling, a monthlong diversion, then there would have been less letting go on Sinclair's
part, less trust. She felt duped. After the night that Regina
took her to the Burning Rose, after she'd apologized and
touched Sinclair like she meant something, Sinclair had started
to believe that they were going somewhere together. That
was the worst betrayal, making her believe that she had a
chance to be with her. Maybe Sinclair was being punished for
leading Yuen on. Yuen. She hadn't thought of him in a long
time. He swore that she would come back to him, back to
men. But Sinclair would rather hunt down Regina and beg
on bloodied hands and knees to be taken back.
    When she walked into her apartment, she picked up the
phone and dialed Yuen's number.
    "Sinclair." There was no smugness when he answered the
phone, just the familiar upward lilt to his voice when she surprised him with a call or visit. Sinclair was grateful for that.
    "How have you been?"
    "Good." He