The bus ride home was packed. There were no seats available, so Nicole and Patrick stood next to each other, gripping the handrails as the bus squeaked through Los Angeles traffic. Patrick knew what had happened in New Mexico and knew that was why she had been absent from her usual routine. He also knew that she would eventually come around, and if she didn't feel like talking, he wouldn't force it, but he missed his friend. They commuted in silence for over half the ride before Nicole announced, "I saw Josh today."

Patrick wasn't sure how to respond. She never formally explained to him what had happened over the last few weeks that would warrant this announcement, but Candace had filled him in. "Oh?" felt like a universal enough reply.

"I know Candy told you what happened."

"She did. I've been trying to give you space," Patrick explained.

"He came to school. For career day," she added.

"Did you plan that?"

"No, he did it to see me," Nicole said softly.

"And we're happy about it? Mad about it? Or fucked about it?" He searched her face for the truth. "I support all reactions," he smiled down at her, reassuringly. 

"They loved him. The kids. Everyone loves him. I love him."

"He is pretty charming."

"I wish I never met him," and with that, she popped her earbuds into her ears, and they remained silent until Patrick's stop. 

"I hope you'll come to the Brit tonight; the Tuesday night crew misses you," Patrick explained as he exited the bus at his stop.

Nicole entered her apartment, exhausted from the day. Changes in the school routine always brought an extra layer of fatigue, but she was also mentally drained. She had spent the last three weeks trying not to see, think about, or speak to JC, and after today, that was all she could think about. Mostly because she missed him. Watching him speak with the kids reminded her of how funny he is, how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable it is to be around him. She missed those things the most. She thought she had waged a victory in her ability to close him out of her thoughts recently, but today his boundary crossing pulled her right back into the battle.

Nicole placed her school bags on the floor of the living room, resting against the wall beneath the bar top. She began to organize her things for the next day, trying to focus on the mundane routine to keep her mind from wandering. She pulled the remnants of her lunch out of her backpack and rinsed the Tupperware in the sink before placing it in the dishwasher. Then proceeded to tidy up the stacks of mail and papers on the counter when her mind was suddenly dragged back to him. She noticed the package on the counter that remained unopened since Matt brought it in last night. His name, Josh Chasez, was scrawled out on the return address label. He had written it out himself. She turned the package over in her hands, wondering what was inside. What symbol of redemption had he sent her.

She slid a finger under the seam of the padded envelope's enclosure, reached in and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped item. She peeled back the bubble wrap to reveal a small carved eagle. It was the kachina she had been eyeing at the gallery in New Mexico. It was small and fit in the palm of her hand. She turned the figure carefully; the wood was carved in great detail. Delicate lines formed the face and eyes, giving the impression of watchfulness and wisdom. Its beak was slightly open, as if caught in mid-call. The wings were outstretched and covered in meticulously carved feathers that cascaded down its back. The fine lines resembled the intricacies of real feathers, and they were painted in various shades of sienna, brown, and a fiery golden yellow. The figure recalled a memory of JC standing in the gallery looking at her softly and explaining, "If it makes you happy, I want to buy it for you."

She snapped herself out of the intoxicating lure of memories and put the statue down gently on the counter, then busied herself with dinner. She pulled out a cutting board from one cupboard and a pan from another. She assembled various items from the refrigerator on the counter, all under the kachina's watchful gaze. The eagle, perhaps a thoughtful gift from JC, seemed to stare back at her, its symbolism intertwining with the complexities of her emotions. 

She paused her circuit of the kitchen and turned the small figure around, facing it in the opposite direction. But it was pointless. Even without the eagle watching, she wasn't going to eat. The emptiness she felt mirrored her restless thoughts, and she was ready to crawl out of her skin. The distraction of the Brit and an alcoholic beverage seemed appropriate right now.

It had been close to two months since Nicole had spent a Tuesday at the Brit, so she was surprised to see a chessboard set up at the bend in the bar, her usual spot. Dan was mixing a drink when he saw her open the door and enter. A smile spread across his face, and it was contagious; she couldn't help but smile back. She took her regular seat and moved a black knight on the chessboard. Dan made quick work of pouring the drink, took the patron's money to the register, then jogged around from behind the bar. He pulled Nicole into a deep bear hug, and lifted her up off the chair and to a standing position.

He pulled back slightly and said, "I missed this face!" before hugging her again, then finally releasing her, to jog back around and behind the bar, where he moved a pawn on the chessboard before making Nicole a drink.

"Lucky guess at my return, tonight?" she asked, nodding toward the chessboard.

"It's been there waiting for you every Tuesday, in hopes we would be reunited again." He held up a bottle of gin; Nicole nodded in approval, and Dan started mixing.

"OH!" a loud, piercing cry came from the open patio door. Patrick, dressed in a golden silk jumpsuit and platform heels, a departure from the subdued collared shirt and slacks he wore on the bus earlier, called out, grabbing the small crowd's attention. "The prodigal son returns!" He added, then strutted his way up to Nicole, slid into the seat next to her, crossed, uncrossed, recrossed his legs dramatically, then rested his chin in his hand as he propped his elbow on the bar.

"Not a son," Nicole laughed.

"Oh, honey, it's gender-fluid here; it's okay."

The night unfolded with familiar banter. Nicole was grateful for the drinks and the distraction. Patrick was a one-man show. He fluttered back and forth from Nicole's side to various bar patrons, flirting, talking, making friends, and looking fabulous. Nicole took three chess losses in a row, and in record time. Dan placed a third gin and tonic in front of her, but as Nicole moved to set the board up for a fourth game, he grabbed her hand.

"Lovey, we can play chess all night, but you can't come here and not talk to me."

Nicole eyed him cautiously. "What? I am sure you know. It's kinda embarrassing how everyone knows."

"I don't mean, tell me what happened, I mean, talk to me about you and what's going on with you." He released her hands and eyed her, much like a parent would eye a child in warning of the consequences of bad behavior.

"I gave it a shot. A real one," Nicole began, and Patrick, with his impeccable timing, reoccupied the seat next to her but didn't interrupt, sensing the seriousness of the interaction. "Josh said he was giving it a shot too. So I took the leap. He lied, and now here we are." Nicole explained as nonchalantly as possible.

Patrick placed a gentle hand on her knee and squeezed.

"And Josh?" Dan asked?

"And Josh, what?" Nicole asked, she could feel a tinge of anger rising. Why is everyone so concerned about Josh?

"He just confessed his sins and left?" Dan asked.

"Pretty much."

"That man did not leave," Patrick said matter-of-factly, and Nicole shot him a quizzical look. "What?" Patrick asked. "It's true. He showed up at her work today."

"And?" Dan asked riveted.

"He spoke at career day. Unbeknownst to me. He sang a bullshit love song, he's infuriating. And he sent me a gift. In the mail."

"What did he send you?" Patrick asked.

"An eagle statue. We saw it in an art gallery in New Mexico. He tried to buy it for me then, but it was too expensive. I told him no. Three weeks later, it's on my doorstep like he can buy my forgiveness."

"Tsk, tsk," Patrick sucked his teeth in what appeared to be dramatic disapproval. "That man is doing a whole lotta showing up." He added. "Nicole, honey, you're the one running away."

"Josh gets to lie to me for months, and I'm being ridiculed for having self-respect." Nicole stood abruptly; she pulled her pack of cigarettes from her purse. 

"Oh no." Dan grabbed at her hand, pulling the cigarettes from her. You don't get to walk out of here too." She glared at him, snatching her pack of cigarettes back from him. "Listen, I get it, Nicole. What Josh did is wrong, no doubt about it. But when you and Josh were together, there's undeniable chemistry. I just want you to be sure you're not icing him out because it's scary to love someone. No easy outs." 

Nicole frowned, her frustration evident. "Dan, he had a girlfriend the whole time we were together. How can I trust someone like that?" 

Dan nodded in understanding but persisted, "I'm not defending his actions. What I'm saying is, don't let the hurt make you forget the good. If he's genuinely trying to make amends, it might be worth considering. Closing yourself has never worked for you in the past and it's not working now." 

Patrick, supporting Dan's line of reasoning, added, "Hon, we all know what Josh did was fucked up. But maybe, just maybe, he's learned. People screw up, and sometimes they genuinely learn from it. Don't let fear be the reason you push away someone you love." 

Dan placed a comforting hand on hers, his eyes sincere. "Nicole, you deserve to be happy, and sometimes that means taking a risk. Maybe you should see him. What's the worst thing that could happen? You actually forgive him?" 

As Nicole absorbed their words, the Brit buzzed with life around them. Nicole sighed, torn between the echoes of betrayal and the possibility of forgiveness. She looked at the chessboard, the pieces frozen in a delicate dance of strategy.

****

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting a warm glow across the sprawling city of Los Angeles as Nicole maneuvered her Jeep up the winding roads of the Hollywood Hills. The iconic palm trees lined the streets, and the air carried the scent of eucalyptus, mingling with the distant echoes of the bustling city below. The evening hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking backdrop to the tumultuous spiral of thoughts winding and turning in her mind.

In the passenger seat, the eagle Kachina lay resting atop the padded envelope it arrived in. JC's scrawling writing on the return address label was the inspiration for this trip. She wondered how it would end. The plan was to show up, and either thank him for the thoughtful gift, or return it, whatever her heart told her to do at that moment. She promised herself she would listen, no second thoughts, no turning back. 

With every curve of the road, Nicole's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her thoughts swirling like the city lights below. Two days had passed since her conversation with Dan and Patrick, and JC's surprise appearance at her place of work. She had not heard from him since, and his silence hung heavy on her heart. The conflicting advice echoed in her mind - would her heart forgive him, could she open herself up to vulnerability, or would she remain guarded, protecting herself from potential heartache?

She had only been up here once before, as Zaire's date. Recollections of that previous visit flashed through her mind. JC's fiery jealousy at her arrival with another man leading to one of the hottest sexual encounters she had ever had in his laundry room. Her skin flushed at the thought of him feverishly placing kisses over any space of bare skin he could find, her hands holding onto him tightly, his body pressed to hers. She shook off the past, focusing on the present moment when her phone's GPS announced, "You have arrived."

She parked her car off the street in a dirt area along the hillside. In the confined space of the car, Nicole gave herself a silent pep talk. "You can do this," she whispered, willing herself to face the uncertainty awaiting her at JC's door.

Nicole grabbed the eagle statue and envelope, which served as a tangible and completely justifiable reason for this surprise visit. Exiting the car, Nicole walked along the length of a large white stucco wall that bordered JC's property. The late afternoon air carried a mix of tension and the distant hum of the city. As she approached the security gate, doubts crept in. Was he even home? Had she thought this plan through?

The security gate, slightly ajar, was a stroke of luck. Of course, he has a security gate. A fleeting and silly image of her awkwardly climbing over this large stucco wall if it weren't open played in her mind. She was grateful for the small mercy.

Nervous energy pulsed through her as she passed through the gate. An internal debate ensued. Did she walk boldly to the front door, as initially planned, or should she look for another way to announce her presence? Her mind raced with questions. Was there a doorbell? Would it be invasive to call him from the outside? Nicole descended a series of steps, her footsteps echoing on the paved path leading to the front door.

With a firm resolve, she knocked on the door and stepped back, her heart pounding. Nicole waited, the echo of her knock lingering in the stillness, uncertain of what response awaited her on the other side.

****

JC sat on a barstool at his large marbled island in the center of his kitchen, flipping through a pile of mail. His phone buzzed insistently, and he glanced at the screen, revealing Eric's name. With a resigned sigh, he swiped the phone and pulled up the messages: two grainy screen captures and a link to a video. He knew this moment was inevitable, the reckoning for the secrets he'd been trying to keep. The two girls had definitely taken pictures. 

Before he could tap the link to the video, his phone vibrated in his hands, signaling an incoming call. With a deep breath, he answered, lifting the phone to his ear, his free arm crossing his chest. "Eric!" JC announced in mock excitement, attempting to mask the tension in his voice.

"Who's the girl?" Eric asked, his tone probing.

"What girl, E?"

"The girl in the photos."

"It's Sergio, a guy. I stayed at his, um, Airbnb in New Mexico, Eric. He just has long hair."

"You went to New Mexico for a cowboy bar and an open mic?" Eric pressed. "Did you watch the video? There is physical contact. It is most definitely a girl."

"Is she sucking my dick?"

"JC, Who is it? What kind of damage control do I need to do?"

JC could sense Eric's doubt, and he knew he couldn't keep dodging the questions forever. "What, man? She's no one." A pang of guilt pulled at his heart. "Look, nothing happened inside that bar," he was becoming irritated, "other than I sang half a song."

"Why did you need to go there anyway?"

"Sometimes you just need to get away. Look, I gotta go, someone is at the door."

****

The seconds stretched. It felt like an eternity before Nicole heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and eventually, it swung open. Nicole was greeted by a tall, stunning woman with beautiful tanned skin and long, black hair parted down the middle. A warm smile adorned her face, and recognition seemed to flicker in her eyes as she beheld Nicole.

The memories rushed back to Nicole - the party a few months ago, JC's arm wrapped around this woman in a long white dress. She clung to him all night, or almost all night. And now, the same woman stood before her, casual in jeans and an Aerosmith t-shirt, barefoot and seemingly at ease and comfortably at home.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

Before Nicole could say anything, JC's voice called out from within the house, "Jen, who's at the door?" 

JC appeared at the doorway, his eyes widening as they locked onto Nicole. He froze, worry etched across his face. The air hung heavy with unspoken questions. The silence lingered for a moment, the weight of unspoken truths settling over the trio at the threshold. The door stood ajar, and in that pregnant pause, the impending confrontation loomed, leaving the outcome uncertain.

Nicole had spent almost a month reeling from JC's lie. And now, the manifestation of that lie was standing before her, utterly clueless. Nicole steeled herself. She looked down at her hand where she firmly gripped the eagle Kachina and envelope. She took a deep breath and did exactly what she knew she should do. She lied.  

"Hi! I, um, just live down the street. And this got delivered to me." Nicole held out the statue in the palm of her other hand. "I opened it without looking, and well, it's clearly not meant for me." She forced an awkward smile. "I looked and saw this address," her other hand waved the envelope in JC and Jen's direction. "So I figured I'd come drop it by. Sorry about opening it."

"What is it?" Jen asked.

JC took the statue from Nicole. "It's a thing I bought in New Mexico," he answered, his eyes locked onto Nicole's in silent supplication. The solitude that threatened him during Nicole's absence had driven him back to the comfort, security, and familiarity of Jen. And now, as the two women stood face to face, he finally understood the consequences of his choices.

Nicole handed him the padded envelope as well, and he quickly tucked it under his arm. "Well, you two have a great, great evening. Sorry about the misunderstanding." Nicole turned swiftly and made her way up the stairs.

"Thank you," Jen called after her as she closed the door.