Then

She wanted to close her eyes as they walked hand in hand down Riverside Drive, if only to get back into the blue; she didn't care if it looked odd, she didn't care if it wasn't the smartest idea in the world to walk blindly down a New York City street. She just wanted to see Karen in the same light she had seen her before they left Coney Island for the day.

They had laid a blanket on the sand, relaxing and taking in the sound of the water lapping on the shore. Grace closed her eyes, stretched out on her back as she felt Karen's hand on her thigh and breath on her ear as she whispered detailed descriptions of the people on the beach around them. There are a couple of kids on the shoreline, she had said, her voice softening as it hit the red head's ear. The little boy's helping his sister build a sandcastle before the water washes it away. I don't know where their parents are; I know I wasn't the best stepmother in the world, but I never would have let those kids go off on their own like that. There's a young couple walking by, they can't be too far into the relationship; they look too happy to be in it for more than a year. He's got his arm around her waist and she's looking up at him like she put all of her trust in him. She had paused for a moment, Grace still in the dark, waiting for Karen's voice. Oh god, Karen had finally said. Oh, that man is in desperate need of a shirt, she had blurted out.

Wait, I want to see, Grace had giggled out. But when she opened her eyes, all she could see was Karen hovering over her, all smiles, in that blue tint that always comes about once you open your eyes after falling asleep in the sun. And Grace felt nothing but serenity and peace as she looked up at the dark haired woman, feeling her hair fall on her collarbone as Karen bent down to kiss her skin. It made it seem like this was a dream, that she had truly fallen asleep on the sand and she hadn't woken up yet. But she could feel Karen's lips, and she knew that the dream was a reality. God, you're beautiful. She hadn't meant to ruin the silent moment between them. But when she felt those words at her lips, she couldn't help but let them free.

Karen had smiled into Grace's neck and let out a low, soft laugh. You're much too kind, she said before Grace directed the dark haired woman to her lips.

Now, Grace felt the sand in her shoes as she made the final steps towards her apartment building. The air had smelled like rain as soon as they reached Manhattan, and in the last few blocks, she started to feel drops on her arms as they quickened their pace to reach their destination before they got caught in the storm. She led Karen into the apartment and ran a hand through her hair as she shut the door behind them. "We should be alone for a little while," she said as she made a face; her hair felt gritty as she combed through it with her fingers. "I think I have sand in my hair." She bent over and shook her hair out, watching as the small grains of sand once trapped in her red locks fell onto the hardwood.

Karen watched the whole time. "Will is going to kill you when he finds sand on the floor," she said with a laugh.

She hid it well, but when Karen mentioned his name, Grace couldn't help but wince. She knew that it was stupid to be afraid of him, stupid to worry about him finding out what she was doing with Karen. But it was sheer instinct, something she couldn't shake from the last time they did this. Grace realized that Will would be kind and understanding, and there wouldn't be anything to be ashamed of, now that the two of them are both single. But while part of her is still hiding because of instinct, the other part of her is hiding because she knew what it looked like. Karen called it a couple of weeks ago; to anyone who knew their history, this looks like a rebound. It looks like Grace couldn't handle the divorce, or being alone again, and ran into the first pair of arms that opened for her. And while she knew that Will probably wouldn't call it that, there was always that possibility. That's what frightened her about him.

"I can handle it," the red head said as she straightened up, fixing a smile on her face for Karen. "I'm a big girl," she winked. "Let me step into the shower quickly, and I'll be right back." She brushed her lips against Karen's cheek before making her way towards the bathroom, leaving the dark haired woman to her own devices.

Grace slipped out of her sun dress and kicked it to the far end of the bathroom, stepped into the shower and closed her eyes as soon as the hot water hit her skin. Time seemed to stand still as she did, as it always seemed to when she had even a fleeting moment to herself. Lost in her thoughts, lost in memories, her mind wandering to the places it knew she loved as the water poured from above her. It was why Will always took a stern tone with her as she walked out of the shower, like a child, because she had taken too long. It was why the room became unbearably hot if she didn't turn the fan on beforehand.

It was why she didn't realize at first that Karen had stepped into the shower with her.

The red head jumped when she found Karen in front of her with a big smile on her face and laughed as she brought her closer to her body. "God, you should warn me when you're going to do something like that," she said, thrilled by the surprise of her.

"Huh," Karen said as she tilted her head. "I would have thought that my opening the shower door would have tipped you off." She put on a sly smirk. "That's okay," she murmured, barely audible against the slap of water against the shower floor. "I tend to go off into my own little world, too." The red head turned so they both were caught under the makeshift waterfall, as Karen's lips slipped along Grace's, her hands running through the flames of her hair that had now been extinguished and darkened by the shower. They stood there, frozen in the moment, fingers woven with each other as they took in the atmosphere. And while Grace didn't want to break the blissful silence, she couldn't help herself.

"I hope this isn't your way of saying that I was taking too long. I was just about to get out." She locked her eyes with Karen's, perhaps for the first time fully realizing how warm the hazel was and smiled.

"Take your time. The surprise can wait." And with that, as Karen laughed at the sight, Grace hastily shut the water off and grabbed a towel, waiting in impatience for Karen to do the same.

Karen took Grace by the hand—both clad in silk robes after toweling off—and led her towards the terrace. Outside, the rain started to steadily fall, but the balcony above sheltered them from it all, and kept them in their own private space. Karen had lay down blankets on top of the comforter from Grace's bed for a softer surface—"I swear I'll put it in the wash once we're done," she said—with a few pillows to the left. She had a bottle of Pinot Noir chilling in a metal bucket of ice, and poured two glasses before she pushed a button on the portable stereo she brought outside. Softly, Billie Holiday started singing about love going to her head, about how it intoxicated her. "I may have borrowed this from Will," Karen said with a smile as she handed Grace her glass of wine. "You told me a while back that he had this in his collection."

"I can't believe you remember that," Grace murmured, but even as she started to say that she couldn't quite place the conversation, it immediately came back to her. That initial attraction as she stayed the night, to be some sort of comfort as Karen faced a night alone as a convict's wife. The blush-inducing fact that Grace had been caught making herself at home to the point of putting on a Holiday record like the penthouse was her own. The confessions that were pouring out of Karen as they poured the wine. Of course the red head remembered it all. And the fact that Karen had recreated the scene to match the evolving state of their connection only solidified the feeling that resided in her lately; this was exactly where she wanted—and needed—to be.

For a moment, Grace fell into the spell of what she was witnessing, Karen's back turned towards her as she leaned on the balcony staring down at the city below, the blue-grey sky offering an oddly serene backdrop as the rain served as perfect accompaniment for Billie Holiday. She thought that if she touched the dark haired woman, this perfect painting would smudge. But as she placed her hand gently on Karen's shoulder, she found that it didn't smudge, it didn't smear. She found that she became part of this imagery, another figure in a brilliant work of art. The red head let her hand fall from its perch as she slid her arms around Karen's waist. She kissed the nape of her neck and felt that her hair was still damp from the shower. "Come lay down with me," she said slowly. She felt Karen's delicate touch on her hand, the grip tightening as Grace led her to the blankets on the ground.

She felt Karen settle into the crook of her arm, the weight of the dark haired woman's head resting on her chest. "I've spent so much of this summer pissed off," she said softly, wondering how it sounded when Karen put her ear to the red head's chest. "At Leo, at the woman he slept with, at myself. But right now, nothing else seems to matter except this. Part of me…" she trailed off and shook her head. It was stupid, what she wanted to say. And she didn't want to ruin the moment. "Never mind," she whispered.

Karen looked up at her and smiled. "Tell me," she murmured.

"Part of me almost wants to shrug it all off, to not hold this grudge against him. Because I know now how foolish I was for running off with him in the first place. And the fact that we're here now, like this…it means more to me now than it probably would have if we never parted ways."

With that, the dark haired woman propped herself upright before hovering above the red head like she had on the sand at Coney Island. "I promise that I'll make this last as long as I possibly can."

Up on the ninth floor of this building, on a terrace overlooking an eerily quiet Manhattan, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. So much so that they started to act like it. Karen started to slip Grace's robe off of her shoulders before working on her own, and pulled a blanket over their bare skin. Sheltered from the rain, and the city, the dark haired woman navigated the curves of the red head's body. But they were unaware of the outside world. Because up on the ninth floor, the front door to apartment C opened as Will came home. Up on the ninth floor, he spotted Karen's purse by the fireplace, her discarded clothes in a pile with Grace's on the bathroom floor. Up on the ninth floor, he passed the terrace and heard the music, saw the mass of blankets through the window and was about to say something.

But he stopped himself. Because up on the ninth floor, he had always concerned himself with protecting Grace's supposed happiness.