8.13.2018 / 4:04 p.m. Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children
Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca
Disclaimer: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Frank Cooper, Doris Wolfe, Dr. Felicia Boudreau, and Father Ray Santos are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena Kundera and Bianca Montgomery are owned by All My Children, ABC/Disney and Prospect Park. The character of Dr. Arizona Robbins is owned by Grey's Anatomy, ABC/Disney, and Shondaland Productions. The original characters Dantéa Rivera and Dr. Valerie Blaine are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, AMC, ABC/Disney, Grey's Anatomy, Shondaland Productions, or any other entity. With the exceptions of the Farmhouse of Love and Cedars Hospital, the settings, dialogue, and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Many thanks to my friend and favorite FFW, WickedWanda926, and to my friend newfan64, for their ongoing willingness to edit my stories and provide valuable feedback. Words cannot express how much I appreciate the two of you and your steadfast support of me, both personally, and as a would-be writer. Any errors are solely my responsibility, as I have made a few last-minute changes, as usual. Thank you to all who continue to read and/or comment. I appreciate the time you have invested in this story, and truly hope you continue to enjoy.
Rating: Chapter 18 is rated PG-13 for coarse language and sexual situations.
Author's Note: Warning—Parts of this update are likely to make you choke on your drink, or even piss your pants, from laughing… and other parts may require a box of tissues for your tears. I do hope you all find the final section of this chapter worth the wait. I know I've waited a long time to share it with you. Pay particular attention to the timeline in this update, as it contains flashbacks from where we left off in 18.10.
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May 2009
"For the greater the love, the greater the grief, and the stronger the faith, the more savagely will Satan storm its fortress."
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
Chapter 18.11 – What Price We Pay:
Thursday, July 30, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—11:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"No, you don't get a say in any of this," Frank declared, glaring at Olivia. He paced the floor as they argued about next steps for Dantéa's memorial service. "Now where the hell is Natalia?"
Ignoring Frank's question about his mother, Rafe intervened. "And why shouldn't she have a say?" he argued on Olivia's behalf. She's the one who'll be paying for it all, he thought acerbically. But that wasn't the only reason he was arguing. As hard as it was for him in the beginning, he really did believe Olivia was perfectly suited for his mother.
"My daughter is dead because of her!" Frank accused.
"That's not true, Frank, and you know it," Olivia countered, fighting hard to keep her temper in check. She was grateful Natalia wasn't forced to endure this. Thanks to the sedative Dr. Blaine had prescribed before they left the hospital that final time, she was settled upstairs, hopefully resting.
"The doctor said the bleeding started because of trauma," he reminded, his tone callous.
"Actually, what she said was that it could be caused by trauma," Olivia clarified. "But in Natalia's case, it was more likely due to a genetic abnormality." It didn't matter that she actually blamed herself for Natalia's early labor, but she damned well never intended to admit that to him.
"Don't give me that genetic abnormality bullshit!" Frank bellowed. "I saw what you were doing to her, and three days later, she was in labor! I'm not an idiot."
"Knock it off, Frank," Rafe snapped. He'd had more than his fill of Frank Cooper over the past several weeks, and he wasn't willing to take any more.
Frank spun toward him, his entire body seething with anger. "How dare you speak to me that way!" he raged.
Undeterred, Rafe moved toward the door, flinging it wide open. "I dare, because this is our home, not yours. Now get the hell out, and don't come back unless you can be civil," he ordered.
Glancing from Rafe to Olivia, he was greeted with a shrug of her shoulders and an expression that said she wholeheartedly agreed. Muttering curse words under his breath, he carried his bulk in a huff right out the door, growling when he heard it slam shut behind him. A moment later they heard his boots stomping across the porch and down the steps.
"I'm really sorry, Olivia," Rafe said once Frank was gone. "I never should've let him in."
Olivia shook her head, and draped an arm around Rafe's shoulder. "You couldn't have known he would act that way," she reasoned.
"History says otherwise," Rafe said ruefully, recalling Frank's behavior on several other occasions where he felt left out of things that involved his mother. "He thinks he owns her because he knocked her up."
"That's not a very flattering way to reference your mother," Olivia gently chastised.
"No, I suppose it isn't," Rafe granted. "Sorry about that too."
"Why don't we forget about being sorry for things, and just go fix your mom some lunch?" she suggested. "She wouldn't eat breakfast this morning, so she must be getting hungry."
"Yeah, well I'm betting she wouldn't eat because she heard you cooked," Rafe said teasingly. And then he took off running toward the kitchen to avoid the swat on the arm he knew was coming.
"Asshole," Olivia muttered under her breath as he ran. But the smile that played across her lips said she thought otherwise. It was true, she guessed, that God could bring miracles even out of the most devastating events. Rafe's sudden and complete acceptance of her in their lives was living proof of that, and she would never forget it.
Friday, August 21, 2009… Rhapsody, The Beacon—4:15 p.m. Central Daylight Time
"She's a strong woman, Olivia. Just like you. And she's going to be okay. You both will," Lena reassured, as they talked over a lingering cup of coffee following the BGRC board meeting. Gently, she squeezed a muscled shoulder. "I know it sounds cliché, but it just takes time."
Offering a wan smile, Olivia picked at the tablecloth. "She's far stronger than I, Lena. But this is bad." It had been a little more than three weeks since they lost Dantéa, and Olivia was an emotional wreck from worrying herself sick over Natalia.
"What does Dr. Boudreau have to say?"
"That I need to focus on dealing with my own grief for the time being," Olivia answered.
"And are you?" Lena gently probed.
"I'm trying," Olivia sighed softly. "But I just don't think I can fully grieve without her. I mean, we wanted Dantéa together, we loved her together; we lost her together. We need to grieve together, too."
"I agree…" Lena said, softly. "But you need to take care of your own emotional needs while you wait for Natalia to be ready," she said, wisely. Sometimes being married to a shrink had its advantages. "You can't rush grief. It happens in its own time. And you need to be ready to meet her more than half way. She's going to need your strength more than you realize."
"God, I miss her so much, Lena." Olivia sounded as though she might cry. "And I'm not talking about sex," she quickly clarified. "Hell, she waited for me for months, while I was being a selfish idiot. I would wait forever just to hold her again. But I miss my best friend. The woman I used to laugh with about anything and everything, even the bad stuff. I miss just talking with her…"
"She's still in there, Olivia," Lena said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Though it wasn't the same at all, she remembered feeling much the same way after Bianca's rape. The loss of that connection, that companionship, was devastating. But she also knew that it wasn't forever. Time and the power of healing had shown her that, and so she had faith that Olivia and Natalia would be restored in the end. "Trust me; she'll come back to you."
"God, I hope so," Olivia sighed despondently. "I don't know if I'd do if I lost her too."
Monday, November 23, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—10:45 a.m. Central Standard Time
Olivia arrived home after her appointment with Dr. Boudreau to find Natalia on the kitchen floor with a bucket of hot soapy water that smelled of a mixture of bleach and vinegar, and a scrub brush, frantically scrubbing at invisible stains on the hardwood floors. Momentarily, she flashed back to the morning she found her sobbing as she scrubbed, trying to wash away the guilt of having slept with Frank. The memory tore at her heart all over again.
"What… is scrubbing floors with bleach water some kind of penance, when you feel too guilty to confess to the priest?"
The humor in Olivia's voice halted Natalia from her task. At first, she wanted to respond in anger. And then she wanted to laugh almost as much as she wished the tears would come, but her heart was far too heavy for any of those emotions. Instead, she simply peered up at Olivia with pleading eyes.
A soft gasp fell from Olivia's lips, and her heart raced in her chest. Wordlessly, she reached out a trembling hand. She'd waited months for such a simple gesture from Natalia, asking for her help, rather than rejecting her.
The brush caused a splash when Natalia dropped it into the bucket, but she didn't even notice, as she reached out for the proffered hand. It was like a lifeline, and the moment her fingertips fell into Olivia's palm, she felt something begin to break deep inside her. A moment later, she was in Olivia's arms, being held, comforted, in a way she hadn't thought possible in a very long time.
She clung to Olivia like a life raft.
But still, she didn't cry.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" Olivia whispered softly against her ear as she held Natalia close, gently stroking her hair.
"I don't know if I can, Liv," Natalia answered honestly.
Olivia nodded. "Then at least come sit with me for a while?" she requested.
"I can do that," Natalia agreed. And then she allowed Olivia to lead her into the living room.
"I'm really sorry about this morning," Natalia finally said, when the settled in on the sofa.
"I'm the one who should apologize," Olivia admitted. "And I truly am sorry, Natalia. I was projecting my bullshit onto you, and that's totally unfair of me."
"Just so you know, it never even crossed my mind that you might cheat," Natalia said. "You're not that person anymore."
A soft laugh fell from Olivia's lips. Oh, how much easier it would be if she were! A few too many drinks, and a night of raw sex with no strings attached… How cathartic that had proven to be on so many different occasions! But Natalia was right—that wasn't who she was anymore. "I'm actually… really glad that we waited so long to have sex," she commented.
Leaning back, Natalia searched Olivia's face. "Where is that coming from?" she asked curiously.
"For the first time in my life, I'm in a relationship that was built on companionship, and honesty, and mutual respect, instead of just sex," Olivia admitted. "So I don't need sex to fill the void we've been feeling between us. I just need you. And I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."
"I'm trying, Liv," Natalia said sadly. "I really am."
"I know, Honey," Olivia consoled. "We're both still grieving," she gently reminded, her fingertips lightly caressing Natalia's upper back. "And I know it's difficult, but your faith has always been so strong. It's always been enough for both of us, so I know…"
Suddenly, Natalia felt very angry again. "Do not bring God into this," she commanded. Extricating herself from Olivia's embrace, she stood from the sofa, pacing the room.
"Why?" Olivia sounded confused. How had this turned on her so quickly?
"Because I'm angry with Him!" Natalia yelled, emphasizing the depth of her emotion.
"Of course you are," Olivia soothed. "And I don't blame you for it. But I think your anger is directed at more than just God," she asserted.
"Don't try to shrink me, Olivia," Natalia snapped. "Just because you see Dr. Boudreau umpteen times a week, doesn't mean you're qualified to decide how I should feel."
Flummoxed, Olivia blinked twice. "You know about that?"
"Of course I know!" Natalia exclaimed. "Who do you think pays the bills for all those sessions?"
Olivia opened her mouth, but before she could respond, there was a knock at their front door. Natalia moved toward the sound.
"Could we please just ignore that?" Olivia pleaded. "This is more important."
"No. We shouldn't." Natalia shook her head insistently. Suddenly this conversation with Olivia frightened her. If she talked about it, that would make it real. And she wasn't ready for it to be real. "What if something happened to Emma or Rafe?"
Olivia couldn't argue the point. Both kids were out of the house, and Natalia had been overly-protective of them ever since Dantéa's death.
Natalia swung the door open, finding a much unexpected visitor staring at her from the other side. "F-Father Ray," she said, hoping she didn't sound as surprised as she felt, seeing him at their door. Instantly, her ingrained guilt was at full-force. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on you," the priest said, stepping across the threshold at her invitation. "I came by a couple of times right after… but you weren't up for visitors," he explained lamely. "And I haven't seen you at Mass in quite some time."
"I guess I haven't been feeling up to socializing lately," Natalia shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance that she did not feel.
"That's understandable," Father Ray validated. "I can't imagine how difficult these past few months have been for you."
"They've been difficult on all of us," Natalia remarked, forcing him to acknowledge Olivia's place in her family. "Please, come in…" she said, gesturing for him to have a seat in the living room.
"Thank you," he said congenially.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Natalia offered, as she closed the door behind them. "Doris bought Olivia a fancy new machine." Anything to prolong having to hear whatever it was he had come here to say. She knew it wouldn't be good.
"I can brew you anything you'd like, Father," Olivia offered.
"No, thank you," Father Ray replied. "I'm fine."
Natalia nodded as she moved back toward the sofa.
"I've been wondering how you're holding up," Father Ray said as he took a seat in the chair adjacent to the sofa. It was clear from his reaction he neither expected Natalia to take a seat next to Olivia, nor was he comfortable with the fact that she had.
Never one to pass up an opportunity, Olivia shifted and wrapped a protective arm around Natalia just to watch him squirm.
"We lost our daughter less than four months ago. I'm doing as well as can be expected, Father," Natalia answered curtly, not giving him any real information. "Thank you for asking."
"I found it concerning that you didn't request the Holy sacrament of Anointing of the Sick for Dantéa," the priest commented. "Or for me to officiate at her Vigil or memorial Mass."
"Reverend Joshua Lewis took excellent care of our spiritual needs during that most difficult time," Olivia replied, emphasizing Josh's title as an ordained minister.
"Your ex-husband is not Catholic," Father Ray said pointedly. "Neither is he an active member of the clergy for any Protestant church."
"That does nothing to diminish his connection with God, or the power of his prayers," Olivia retorted. The mere fact that he was in their home angered her beyond words.
Fighting the urge to lash out at her, Father Ray turned his attention back to Natalia. There were things that needed to be said, and he wasn't leaving until she heard them.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Natalia. Truly I am." His voice was low and soothing. That is, until he continued his statement. "But I think this is just God's way of bringing the Holy Scriptures to pass."
"What, exactly, do you mean by that?" Olivia snapped, her guard on high alert.
Ignoring Olivia, Father Ray kept his attention on Natalia. "God doesn't take our sin lightly, Natalia. You know the scripture says the sins of the father are visited upon the son," he dutifully reminded. "But the scriptures don't just stop with fathers and sons, those laws extend to mothers and their children, as well. And just like the Lord punished David for his sin of adultery by taking the life of his son, He must punish your sin, as well." His tone wasn't mean or harsh, but it was certainly condescending; and his words reeked of judgment.
Natalia said nothing. She simply sat there, expressionless, staring into space.
Olivia closed her eyes tight against the swell of anger that rose like a venomous bile from within her. Dragging in slow, deep breaths, she exhaled smoothly, and finally, she opened her eyes, turning with deliberation toward Natalia. She took Natalia's hand, garnering her attention; her voice silent, eyes pleading.
Wordlessly, Natalia blinked, and then nodded her assent, unleashing the caged fury within her partner. Hell hath no fury like Olivia Spencer scorned, she thought. May the Lord have mercy on your soul, Father Ray…
"That's enough, Father!" Olivia's voice was seething with anger, as she stood from her seat; looming over him. "I think it's time for you to go." She snapped her fingers as she issued the command, and pointed decisively toward the door.
"Olivia, I—" Father Ray attempted to defend his position.
"No!" Olivia bellowed. "I will not allow you to use the death of our child to torment Natalia by laying that kind of bullshit guilt trip on her. And I won't allow you to use our pain to further your own agenda. God did not take our child from us as a punishment for her loving me, any more than He allowed Dantéa to be conceived as a means of showing her she should be with Frank, instead of me."
Father Ray's face turned ashen.
"Yeah, that's right—I know about that little conversation, too," Olivia barked. "Just what, exactly is the problem, Father Ray? Is it just that I don't have a penis?" she said, accusingly.
The priest looked shocked.
"Because if that's the case, I think I can help you out…"
Father Ray looked confused, and Natalia's eyes grew wide as she watched Olivia, bounding up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She could only imagine what her unpredictable partner was about to do. Within less than a minute, she was back—dildo in hand, and Natalia's breath caught in her chest.
"Here ya go, Father Ray," Olivia said, sarcastically. "I think this'll do it. It's the one dick on the planet that'll never let her down—it won't get her pregnant before marriage, it'll never go limp, and it'll never finish before she does. Oh, and look," she said, slamming the toy down in the middle of their coffee table.
The swift motion made Father Ray jumped back, and then he scrambled to his feet, staring at Olivia warily. She looked like she'd lost her mind.
"It even has a suction cup!" Olivia continued. "So we can sit here all fucking night, paying homage to the Eternal Erection, if that'll make you happy! Fuck, we may even light candles!"
The room was eerily silent for several moments, as Father Ray stood there, riddled with shock. And then the faintest hint of giggling began to seep from Natalia's lips. She couldn't believe the things Olivia had said to the Priest—and she really couldn't believe she'd slammed a giant dildo down on the coffee table right in front of him!
Olivia watched her, concerned. And soon the slight giggling morphed into a rolling laugh, as Natalia let go of the stranglehold within which her guilt had imprisoned her all these months. Once Olivia realized this was a catharsis for Natalia, she joined her in laughter, the two of them clinging to one another for physical stability.
Then, just as the giggling had turned laughter, laughter turned into anger. Natalia rose up from her place on the sofa, staring the Priest down with rabid determination. "What you said about God taking Téa's life because of my sin was a load of bullshit, Father Ray." Her tone was sharp and biting, and it caused the pompous priest to jump back from her, as well.
"Neither my daughter's conception, nor her death, was a way for God to show me that my love for Olivia was wrong. The only sin I committed in this entire situation, was having sex with Frank. I sinned against my love for Olivia by turning to someone I didn't love. Mercifully, she has forgiven me for the hurt I caused her by going to him. And her heart was big enough to embrace the child that I conceived, as if she were her own. That's love, Father Ray. Not sin. And just so you know, God has forgiven me too, for being unfaithful to the one He set in my heart. It's taken a long time, but I'm learning to forgive myself, as well. So there's nothing more to be said."
"I disagree, Natalia—," Father Ray attempted to argue, but Natalia quickly cut him off.
"I don't care, Father," Natalia said, bluntly. "You can disagree all you want. It won't change anything."
"The Lord says—"
"I am perfectly capable of hearing the Lord for myself," Natalia declared. "Now please, get out of our house. And don't come back."
A single nod marked Father Ray's acknowledgment of Natalia's orders as he stepped backward toward the front door. "I'm sorry to have bothered you," he said. "It won't happen again." And with that, he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
"Wow, that was intense," Olivia commented as she turned toward Natalia.
"Can you believe he had the nerve to come in here like that?" Natalia sounded appalled.
"Actually, I can," Olivia said on a cynical laugh.
"I can't believe you slammed the dildo down on the table like that!" Natalia laughed.
Olivia laughed along with her. "I couldn't resist," she snorted, her hand covering her nose and mouth. "Did you see the look on his face?" she asked rhetorically. "I'm pretty sure we're both going to hell."
"I don't think so," Natalia said, shaking her head. "You were just trying to take care of me. And I love how protective you are of me," she said, giving Olivia credit where it was due.
"You're really not mad?"
"How could I possibly be mad at you?"
Olivia arched an eyebrow. Not twenty minutes before, she'd been screaming at her.
"Okay, okay, I know. I'm really sorry about earlier," Natalia said penitently. "I don't know what's gotten into me."
Reaching out for Natalia, Olivia pulled her close. "Like I said before, we're both still grieving, Natalia. So we need to be willing to cut each other some slack."
Natalia sank into the warmth of Olivia's embrace, allowing herself to truly feel the comfort of it for the first time in months. "I think maybe it's time we started doing our grieving together, instead of alone."
Lightly, Olivia pressed a kiss against Natalia's temple. "I couldn't agree more," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. This moment had been months in the making, and she couldn't have felt happier that it was finally happening. There would never be a day when they wouldn't think of Dantéa, but now, maybe they had a chance to move on with their lives.
Monday, November 23, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—9:30 p.m. Central Standard Time
Hours later, they lay there in the dark, same bed, yet completely separate worlds. Never in Olivia's dreams did sharing a bed with Natalia equate to sleeping so far apart, especially after the breakthrough they'd had following Father Ray's visit that morning. She wished now that she had succumbed to Natalia's argument that they buy something smaller than a king. At least then she would have an excuse to be closer to her—even if she still knew not to touch without invitation.
And then the stillness broke, as Natalia's small voice croaked out, calling to her. "Liv?" It was so soft, she barely heard it.
"Yeah," Olivia whispered. "What is it, Sweetheart?"
That Olivia would still bestow upon her such an endearment made Natalia's heart break a little more. "Will you hold me?" she quietly beseeched. She sounded so broken, so vulnerable, that Olivia's heart broke a little, too.
"Of course I will," Olivia said quietly.
Scooting her body across the expanse of space between them, she gently laid her right hand on Natalia's side. It was a tentative touch, meant to ensure Natalia's comfort. When no resistance came, Olivia allowed her hand to drift down and across Natalia's taut abdomen, pulling her closer. Her eyes fluttered closed as she staved off tears—the last time she remembered holding Natalia, touching her this way, her belly had been thick and full with the life of their unborn child. It took every ounce of strength within her not to break down, allowing the deep chasm of pain to take hold of her heart. Instead, she nuzzled into Natalia's neck, simply breathing in the essence of her, reveling in the sensation of finally being allowed to hold her in their bed again.
Natalia settled back into the solidness of Olivia's body, allowing the comfort of Olivia's embrace to envelop her. "Do you think maybe we could try Jen and Tracy's church again sometime?" she asked.
"Absolutely," Olivia answered, hoping this meant Natalia's interest in her faith had been renewed.
"This Sunday, maybe?" Natalia ventured.
"I'll find out which service they're attending," Olivia replied.
"I never thanked you for taking me that first time," Natalia said, sounding remorseful.
"You didn't need to thank me, but you're welcome," Olivia said. "Where's all this coming from, anyway?" she asked curiously.
Natalia was quiet for a few moments, as she contemplated her response. "Today, the floor scrubbing… You were right. I feel so guilty, Liv," she finally admitted on a cracked whisper. Somehow, the cover of night made it easier to confess.
"Guilty for what, Love?" Olivia asked.
"For so many things. But especially for Dantéa. For not wanting her," Natalia confessed. "At least not the way that I should have. What if she felt the rejection when I first learned I was pregnant? What if she died because she thought…"
Propping up on her elbow, Olivia touched Natalia's chin. "Hey…" she whispered, gently turning Natalia's head to meet her gaze in the moonlight that streamed through the curtains. "Dantéa died because her heart and lungs were too underdeveloped, not because she felt rejected, or for any other reason."
"Logically, I understand that," Natalia said. "But I still feel guilty."
"Because emotions still have nothing to do with logic, do they?" Olivia said, a slight smile touching her lips.
"No, they sure don't," Natalia agreed, a tentative smile playing at the corners of her mouth at the shared memory as she turned toward Olivia in their bed.
"We both need to work harder at forgiving ourselves," Olivia declared. She still carried some guilt herself, for the momentary believe that she had caused Natalia's early labor by making love to her the way she had just days before. Even reassurances from Valerie and Dr. Robbins had done little to quash those feelings in the beginning. Only time, and the ability to see things beyond the veil of grief, had given her any respite.
"Agreed," Natalia said quietly. She could only imagine the weight Olivia had been carrying all these months. Reaching out, she allowed her fingertips to brush lightly across Olivia's face. "You don't have to be the one to hold it all together anymore," she promised. "I'll reach out to Dr. Boudreau tomorrow; get a referral to one of her colleagues."
Relieved, Olivia nodded. "There's… a bereavement group that meets at the hospital once a week," she reported, her tone tentative. "Maybe that's something we could do together—if or when you're ready."
Natalia was quiet for a moment. "I think I might be," she finally said. "Maybe after I talk with someone alone for a few weeks?"
"That sounds like a good plan," Olivia agreed.
"Yeah," Natalia agreed. "I think it's one I can handle."
"I'm really proud of you," Olivia whispered, brushing the backs of her fingers along Natalia's cheek.
"Don't be," Natalia said on a biting laugh. "I'm a total mess right now."
"Maybe it just feels that way because sometimes we have to break before we can truly begin healing," Olivia said supportively.
"Maybe…" Natalia was willing to entertain the notion.
They fell quiet for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. When finally Natalia leaned close, she cradled Olivia's cheek in her palm, kissing her tenderly. "Thank you for being so patient with me," she whispered.
Olivia's lips twisted into a soft smile, but before she could respond, Natalia was kissing her again. This time with a passion neither of them had felt in months.
Slowly, their clothing began to fall away, cast aside at Natalia's insistence. She didn't know how much she was truly ready for, but right now, she knew she wanted to be close to Olivia in a way that hadn't felt comfortable in months. Not because of anything that Olivia had done, but because she'd been carrying so much guilt over the loss of their child.
Olivia reached up to caress Natalia's left breast, but the barest touch of her fingertips caused Natalia to wince.
"Is something wrong?" Though her voice was soft, Olivia sounded alarmed.
"Nothing's wrong. It's just that they're so full, they hurt, Liv," Natalia whimpered.
"I know it isn't easy to let go, Sweetheart," Olivia empathized, "but it's time."
Natalia didn't need to ask what she meant. She understood. She'd been pumping her milk for nearly four months now, in an effort to hold on to a child she would never have a chance to feed, or nurture, or even hold again. "I know," she whimpered. "I know… but if my milk stops, then she'll really be gone, Liv." Her whimper turned into a gut-wrenching sob—the first one since that moment when Dantéa breathed her final breath.
Relieved by the sight of Natalia's long-restrained tears, instinctively, Olivia pulled her close, cradling her. "I know, Honey," she whispered, as she gently stroked Natalia's hair. "I know… Just let it out, okay? Let it all go."
"Crying doesn't change anything, Olivia," Natalia resisted, despite the tears that still fell, unchecked. "It won't give me back the years I lost with her."
"You're right—it can't change the past; but it can be cathartic in the present," Olivia gently pointed out. "I'm right here. You don't have to do it alone."
Her breath coming in short staccato gasps, Natalia nodded as she burrowed into Olivia's chest, allowing the torrent of tears to cascade down her cheeks and onto Olivia's bare breasts. Ever supportive, Olivia continued to hold her, simply allowing her to expunge all of the grief she could summon.
And when Natalia finally calmed, she breathed a deep sigh of exhaustion as Olivia gently caressed her. The slightest bump of Olivia's arm against her chest drew another sharp wince, and then Natalia glanced down at her breasts that were engorged beyond the point of pain. "Help me take the pressure off… please, Liv," she practically begged. "Just enough to stop the pain, okay? I promise I'll start suppressing it tomorrow."
"What about the medication Val gave you?" Olivia sounded concerned.
Natalia was quick to shake her head. "You know the side-effects are awful," she reminded. "I'd rather stop it naturally."
Olivia did know, but still, she had reservations. "Natalia…" she sounded wary. Of what, she wasn't exactly certain.
"It's not an attempt to prolong things, I promise," Natalia reassured, quelling Olivia's concerns.
Olivia nodded. "Okay," she said, resting in the assurance that tomorrow Natalia would begin a regimen that would lead to the natural suppression of her milk production, and ultimately to its complete cessation. The process would take a little time, and it would be emotionally painful for Natalia, but Olivia knew she would be there for her throughout the journey, and in the end, it was the healthier option.
"So… will you help me take the pressure off?" Natalia asked again. "Please?"
Delivered on a plea of desperation, Olivia was powerless to refuse Natalia's request—regardless of her own uncertainties. She slipped out of bed, turning back toward Natalia. "Let me grab what we need from… across the hall," she said, avoiding calling that room the nursery.
Natalia shook her head. "We don't need any of that this time," she declared.
"You're not gonna store it?" Olivia checked in.
"There's really no point, is there?" Natalia said, being rational about her behavior for the first time since Dantéa's death. She'd started out pumping it to save the colostrum—that precious first milk, rich in antibodies that could bolster Dantéa's immune system. And then the process became a ritual for her—an obsession, almost—the way she carefully packaged it in sterile bags, sealing and dating it, storing it meticulously in the freezer. It was in that moment that she realized just how truly senseless it had been to continue that ritual for nearly four months—and how truly patient Olivia had been with her throughout that entire time.
Solemnly, Olivia nodded. As much as she knew it needed to happen, it broke her heart all over again, to see Natalia finally acknowledge the futility of it. "No, I guess not," she said quietly. And then she paused for a moment, thinking. "Maybe some of it can still be donated," she thought aloud, remembering the breast milk bank at the NICU.
"You think so?" Natalia sounded hopeful for the first time in months.
Olivia's smile trembled. "I'll call tomorrow," she said reassuringly.
Taking a deep breath, Natalia released it slowly. "Thank you," she said softly.
"It's the least I can do," Olivia said. "And in the meantime, how about we get in the shower?" she suggested. "The warm water will help ease the pain."
Offering a faint smile, Natalia nodded her agreement. She climbed out of their bed, and taking Olivia's proffered hand, they padded barefoot across the hardwood floors together toward the master bath.
Once inside the bathroom, Olivia opened the door to the shower stall and turned the water on to warm it, while Natalia slipped out of the remainder of her clothing; Olivia quickly following suit. Next, Olivia pulled the shower chair she'd used when she was still recovering from her transplant from the closet behind the bathroom door, setting it in the stall, while Natalia took a moment to pull those long dark tresses into a hair clip, so that she didn't have to deal with it when they were finished. And within a few minutes they were standing together beneath the warm spray.
"Have a seat on the chair, okay?" Olivia instructed after they'd been under the spray long enough to relax a little.
Numbly, Natalia nodded and did as she was told. This was all still just so surreal for her, despite her acceptance of it as her reality.
Olivia pulled the shower head from the base, hooking it instead into the slot on the chair for ease of access, and turned it toward Natalia so that the soft warm spray would rain down on her breasts. And then she crouched down in front of Natalia.
Reaching out, she cupped one of Natalia's breasts in her hand, and with the other, she gave it a gentle caress, kneading and massaging the skin around her nipple to help relax the breast tissue. From her own experiences, she expected that this could take a while, but Natalia's breasts were so full that very little encouragement was needed.
Gently, she pressed back toward Natalia's chest wall, and then she slowly rolled her fingers forward, causing the milk to spill forth. And the moment it did, Natalia began to cry again as she watched the precious liquid that was meant to sustain the life of the child they had buried near four months prior, mixing with the warm water and cascading down her belly toward the drain. It felt like losing her all over again.
Olivia stopped for a moment, and holding Natalia's face in her hands, she gently caressed her cheeks with her thumbs. "I know this is awful, Sweetheart," she whispered. "I'm so sorry…"
Sniffing back her tears, Natalia reached out, brushing tears from Olivia's cheek with her fingertips. "You don't need to be sorry, Liv," she murmured. "It's so much easier because you're here. Thank you again for being so patient with me."
Leaning forward, Olivia pressed her forehead to Natalia's, sharing a moment of silence with her. And then she kissed her tenderly. "We're a team, right?" she reminded sweetly. "We'll get through this together."
Natalia smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. "We will," she agreed, astonished to find that she actually believed it. She took a deep breath then, and it felt like the first one she'd taken in months. It was so refreshing! Immediately, she felt better, and she smiled at Olivia again, her heart filled with gratitude for the woman who was crouched before her, soaking wet, and not complaining.
Olivia returned the smile, and went back to the caressing, pressing, and rolling along the contours of Natalia's breast. She quickly established a rhythm, and Natalia's milk flowed from her breast like a fountain once capped, and now loosed. Within a few minutes Natalia was experiencing some relief from her pain. And then she switched to the other breast, repeating the process until Natalia indicated that she felt better.
Once finished, Olivia grabbed the liquid soap from the shelf and poured a liberal amount into her hand. Allowing the spray to mix with the liquid, she rubbed it between her hands creating a rich lather, and then gently, she smoothed her hands over Natalia's chest, taking care to gently clean Natalia's nipples and beneath each breast. And then she slipped the shower head from the slot on the chair, using the gentle flow of water to wash away any remnants of soap that remained.
She stood then, turning off the water and placing the shower head in its proper place. And then she offered Natalia a hand, helping her to her feet. The moment she did, Natalia was in her arms, clinging to her tightly, their bodies pressed firmly together. Olivia held her for several minutes, and when she felt Natalia begin to shiver, she gently separated from her, leading her from the stall.
Grabbing a thick towel from the ample supply on the shelf just outside the stall door, she unfolded it, holding it open for Natalia.
Natalia offered a soft smile. "Thank you," she said, walking into the proffered towel. She reveled in the feeling of being enfolded in the warmth, not only of that towel, but of Olivia's arms once again.
"You're welcome," Olivia said, holding Natalia's gaze as she lingered with her for a brief moment.
Once she released her, she grabbed another towel, unfolding it and wrapping it around herself. Tucking the top, she turned back to Natalia. "Feeling better?" she asked.
"Much," Natalia answered.
"I'm glad," Olivia said, reaching for Natalia's towel then, to help her dry off.
"I think I can manage this," Natalia said, not wanting Olivia to be cold because of her. "Go ahead, take care of yourself."
"I'd rather take care of you," Olivia said. "If that's okay…"
"Of course it's okay," Natalia answered.
Relieved that she hadn't been rebuffed, Olivia took her time, gently drying Natalia's skin one section at a time. And when she was finished, she nodded her head toward their bedroom. "Go ahead, get dressed," she said. "I'll be right out."
Natalia leaned in, kissing Olivia tenderly. "I think I'd rather wait for you like this," she whispered, drawing a smile from Olivia.
"Two minutes," Olivia promised.
Natalia raised an eyebrow, giving Olivia that come-hither expression.
Olivia gulped. "Make that one minute," she grinned.
Laughing, Natalia wandered out the bathroom door and across the room to their bed. Goodness, it felt great to be able to do that again. She had a long road to recovery from her profound grief, but her journey had finally begun, and she was grateful for that.
Monday, November 23, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—10:15 p.m. Central Standard Time
When Olivia crawled beneath the covers sliding over toward Natalia, Natalia welcomed her with open arms, and kisses that lingered until they were both nearly breathless. It reminded them both of the early days of their relationship, and it felt a bit bittersweet to be back in that place where everything felt so exciting and new, and yet, so… uncertain.
"I'm still not sure how much I'm up for tonight," Natalia whispered. "But I want to feel close to you again."
Brushing tendrils of raven hair from Natalia's face, Olivia offered a wobbly smile. "There's more than one way to make love, N'talia," she whispered. "We've proven that countless times before."
"We have, haven't we?" Natalia reminisced. And then she kissed Olivia again, and within moments, they were lost in one another.
Their renewed closeness brought tears for both of them—tears of joy and of sorrow—as they began to touch, to explore, to give and to receive. Choking back a sob, Olivia tenderly kissed Natalia's breast in slow circles, making sure that nothing was missed. She tasted her own tears along the way. And when she reached the center, she gently pulled the swollen nipple into the warmth of her mouth, licking and sucking, ever so lightly.
Though it shouldn't have, the lingering presence of Natalia's milk took her off guard. It was hot and sweet, with the faint taste of something else Olivia couldn't quite identify. She didn't pull away from it, but instead, she embraced it, just as she had in the shower only minutes before. It was simply a connection, once lost, and now found, and losing herself in the intimacy of that connection, she savored it, after the long months of separation.
A moment later, she felt Natalia's fingertips tunneling through the hair at the back of her head. And tightening her fingers in those silky chestnut locks, Natalia held her in place, as she lowered her own head to nuzzle against Olivia's hair. She lost herself in the light fragrance of Olivia's familiar shampoo. And in that moment, they were struck by the sheer power of the intimacy they were sharing. Never in their lives would either of them have imagined sharing in a relationship where such a strong bond could not only exist, but thrive, and ultimately survive even the loss of a child.
And then the tears were falling, for both of them. The longer they clung to one another, the more intimate the embrace became, as Olivia moved from one breast to the other, and then back to her mouth, kissing her deeply, their bodies both shaking with sobs. And finally wrapping her arms around Natalia's torso, Olivia settled with her head against Natalia's belly.
Droplets of milk pooled in the contours of Natalia's belly, mixing with Olivia's tears as she held her, knowing how deeply she ached for the loss of their child. Neither of them had ever experienced a grief so intense, so life-altering as this one, nor had they experienced a healing so intimate, but in those moments as they lay the foundation for saying a final goodbye to their child with the fusing together of their tears, their mutual healing began.
"Sorrow… turns out to be not a state, but a process. It needs not a map, but a history."
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
TBC in Chapter 19—New Beginnings…