Chapter Thirteen
Echoes of Footsteps On The Stairs
Lying on her back, Cynthia barely registered the movement next to her from the edge of her sleep. It was only when she felt a weight atop her that she willed herself to wake up.
Like they had done many times in the past, Diantha had woken up before her, but wasn't quite ready to get out of bed. So, instead, she moved over, snuggling up to Cynthia, throwing an arm and a leg across her to get comfortable.
Cynthia laughed lightly through her nose, putting her hand on Diantha's arm, turning to where her lips were against her forehead. "This used to be my favorite way to wake up," she admitted in a whisper.
"Mine as well, my dear night owl."
Cynthia had nearly forgotten about the old pet name. "Morning dove," she said, pressing a light kiss against her temple.
As she said it, she worried how it might come across now, in the present. It had always been a play on 'mourning dove', and she was very much in her own phase of mourning the loss of her mother. Night owl was simple because it was just teasing her own self for never sleeping on a proper schedule back in their college days.
Instead of any kind of ridicule regarding the pet name, Diantha laughed. "The amount of times I would wake up, and you would be just getting ready to sleep–"
Cynthia laughed again. "I can't remember the last time I stayed up like that."
Staying up until five or six in the morning, and sleeping well into the afternoon was never something she was proud of. Likely, the last time she had done it was when she was living with Steven, in the lowest point of her depression.
"I have a day job now. Can't be pulling that anymore," she added.
Diantha moved off her, propping herself up on her elbow. "You know, I realize I've yet to see where you work."
"A shame, since I've definitely seen where you work at least once or twice," she joked, using her now freed arm to take a hold of her.
"You've even had the privilege of seeing my classroom, and I haven't even seen your office," she said.
She shrugged. "Not much to see. I don't get my own office until the expansion, so right now I'm sharing an office space with a few of my coworkers."
Diantha grinned. "I bet your workspace is a mess," she teased.
Cynthia rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. "I resent that," she said.
Reaching out to brush Cynthia's bangs away from her face, she instead paused, only to then cover one of her eyes with them. "There's that broody look I remember."
She laughed in response, reaching up to push her hair out of the way. "Determined to bring up every dumb thing I did as a young adult, huh?" she asked.
Bringing herself into a more seated position, Diantha was careful to not disturb the blankets around them as much as possible. Looking down at Cynthia, it was all she could do to not get choked up.
A year ago, she would have never even pictured waking up next to Cynthia. Thoughts of her crept up now and again, usually around the time of reading Grand Gulliver with her classes. At most she would have the briefest of thoughts, wondering where Cynthia ended up in life, and if she was doing alright.
To have the answer to that question right in front of her was leaving her nothing short of breathless.
Looking up at her, Cynthia could only laugh. The look she was giving her was all too familiar. One she remembered from when Diantha would be thinking too hard about how to deliver certain lines, a speech for a class, or even when she was overthinking asking to kiss her.
She reached up, tapping just between her brows. "Whatever you're thinking about, you're thinking about it too hard," she said.
She laughed lightly, looking away to her dresser, focusing on the pictures atop it. "If someone had told you a year ago that you would be waking up next to me, what do you think you would have said to them?"
She reached out, resting a hand on her wrist. "I would have laughed in their face, and probably would have said all kinds of awful things about you. All out of anger that I just– I don't care to hold onto anymore."
Lacing their fingers together, Diantha averted her gaze. "I'm sorry, Cynthia, I–"
"No, I wasn't–" Cynthia interrupted, sitting up, still keeping a grip on her hand. "I didn't say that to try to get another apology out of you. I'm done with that. I accept your apology, and I forgive you." Not words she thought she would ever say, but words that lifted a weight off her shoulders she didn't even realize she was carrying.
"I burned a bridge with you once before– I'm scared to do it again," Diantha admitted.
Cynthia shrugged, squeezing her hand. "Well, unlike last time, if I see that the bridge is starting to burn, I'll say something instead of talking to Steven about it and hoping that somehow will help."
With a laugh, Diantha leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Cynthia's. "I suppose it helps I no longer have to worry about my manager or mother influencing me. I'm capable of thinking for myself now."
Cynthia pulled back. "Other than blatant homophobia, what did they have against me?"
Diantha shrugged. "Kathi Lee likely had nothing personal against you, it just circles back to how good my mother was at getting people to do her bidding. Part of it, I'm sure was how my mother had a desire for biological grandchildren, something me being with you wouldn't give her."
She fought back a laugh. "Joke was on her, I guess, considering Mel didn't deliver in that department, either," she said, Diantha's hand instantly slipping out of hers.
"Not without trying," she said, looking away.
Cynthia's heart sunk into her stomach. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have–"
Diantha shook her head, meeting her eyes once more. "I didn't want children then, and I still don't know that I want them now. Mel did, and he would…" she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. It wasn't a story anybody other than her counselor and Siebold knew all of. Apart from them, she had never told anybody about the worst times in her marriage to Mel. "If I didn't keep my birth control on my person, he would hide it. I tried IUDs, but I always had the worst luck with the side-effects. I became very paranoid, convinced he was poking holes in condoms– it was awful." She hesitated, unsure if the information would be too much. Just as quickly, she decided to push forward. If there was any chance at moving forward together, she knew she needed to be able to tell Cynthia everything. "At one point, I used too much emergency contraceptive that I almost died."
Feeling like there was a fist around her throat, reaching out to take a hold of Diantha's hand was all Cynthia could do to not start crying.
She hated Mel before, but knowing he put Diantha in such a mental state made her absolutely loathe him.
Diantha squeezed her hand. "I genuinely don't know how I'm even alive at this point."
"I am so sorry he put you through that, Diantha, I–" She was at a loss for words. There was nothing she could say that would fix what had been done to her, and nothing she could think of would soothe those wounds either.
Gaze trailing down, Diantha's eyes stopped on the scarring on Cynthia's right arm. "May I ask you an uncomfortable question?" she asked, knowing it was a bad attempt to get the subject off of herself.
Cynthia lifted her arm, looking down at the old scarring. "About this?"
Diantha nodded. "I've been wanting to ask, but I've never wanted to risk being insensitive."
She hesitated, guilt washing over her. She wasn't going to lie to her, but the truth wouldn't help things in the moment. Depression combined with her despair over Diantha's engagement to Mel all had a hand in her decision to slam herself up against the glass-framed map, and she didn't want to risk Diantha feeling any guilt over it.
"I feel incredibly guilty asking this, especially with how vulnerable you were with me, but– can I tell you some other time? I'm so sorry, I just– I feel like this would be the worst time to tell you about it and–" she stopped, interrupted by a soft laugh from Diantha.
Instead of being angry or upset in any way like Cynthia worried she might be, she leaned into her, wrapping her in a tight hug. "My dear, we have all the time in the world to catch up on the thirteen years we were apart. I unfortunately have more I could tell you, seeing as it wasn't even the worst thing Mel did to me, but we don't have to say everything now."
Cynthia hugged her tighter. "For whatever it's worth, I'm just– so glad you're here."
She laughed lightly, pulling away to kiss her cheek. "My dear Cynthia, it means the world to me…"
Still intent on not going out for proper groceries until she had returned from Wisteria, the two opted for breakfast at one of the small cafes up a few blocks, close enough to be walked to. While there was still a noticeable chill in the air, rather than deterring them, it simply gave Diantha an excuse to link her arm through Cynthia's –not that she even questioned it.
On the walk over, they both reveled in the ability to even be able to do so. In their youth, there wasn't anywhere they could really go without the constant worry of recognition. No matter what, there was always the nagging in the back of their minds that they were being watched and scrutinized by paparazzi and reporters.
Diantha admitted to missing it now and again. Despite all the horrible underbelly Hollywood loved to hide, she did thoroughly enjoy watching a project come to completion. However, she wouldn't trade her current job or position for the world. For the time being, she was content, thrilled even, to be spending her morning with Cynthia.
On their way back, in the middle of discussing where an old mutual friend had ever ended up, Cynthia got a text from Steven.
"Can I conference you in on this call really quick? BIG NEWS"
She looked down to Diantha. "Steven needs me on a call, is that alright?" she asked.
"Of course, darling."
No sooner had she sent off her response was her phone ringing.
It was entertaining for Diantha to witness once again the side of Cynthia that came out when handling something of importance. One of the last times she got to bear witness to it she had been practicing a presentation on her for a class. The formality of her tone. The way she even held herself differently; it all exuded confidence.
Seconds after introducing herself, however, there was a shift. It was subtle. A tugging of her lips and a quirk of her brows. Excitement.
"Could you remind me of her measurements?" she asked, eyes darting around as she was making mental calculations of some sort.
Diantha couldn't help but feed off her energy, wishing she could overhear the full conversation.
"The wing leading up to the planetarium can hold her and everything else, easily…"
The conversation went on a little longer, Cynthia not having to add much more to it, but by the end of it when they reached Diantha's driveway, she was practically vibrating with excitement.
Phone tucked away back in her pocket, Cynthia swept Diantha up in a hug, both laughing as she spun them around. "Oh my god!"
"I'm dying to know what exhibit you just got your hands on," Diantha said. She assumed it was the archaeological dig exhibit she had mentioned a while back with the way she was acting.
She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly stopped herself. "How about instead of telling you, I show you? It's a three week install, so by the end of January, probably."
"Finally get a chance to see where you work," she said.
"I'm sure Steven would love to see you, too," she added.
As if Diantha even needed any convincing to spend even more time with her. "Well, if I get to see Steven, I guess I'll let you twist my arm," she teased.
While positive she was joking, Cynthia felt herself hesitate as Diantha pulled from her grip, leading them up the stairs back to her house.
Two steps up, Diantha turned back to her, now standing at perfect eye level with her. A memory sparked at the back of her mind, remembering how the simple position used to be a favorite way to kiss her. She was always the short one; it had been nice to be on an even playing field now and then.
"I mean, I can tell you– I don't want to force you," Cynthia said, keeping her spot at the base of the stairs.
It occurred to Diantha that she was nervous. Worried she was overstepping or forcing her hand in some way –when it couldn't have been further from the truth.
"My–" Like an old habit, the L word almost slipped out, wrapping her in a warm flush. Instead of a word that she knew was far too strong for the time being, she covered it up with a soft chuckle. "My dear Cynthia," she corrected. "You are not forcing me to do anything."
"I just– I really don't want to take advantage of you in any way," she said, still firm in her spot.
She smiled, reaching out to put a hand on her cheek. "I promise you, my dear, you're not. I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions," she teased. "Now, come inside already, I'm getting chilled."
With a breath of a laugh, she finally joined her atop the stairs, following her inside.
Without necessarily meaning to, they ended up spending the day together. Curled up on the couch together, they spent time watching movies and continuing their catching up with one another.
Cynthia ended up staying another night, not needing any convincing. She didn't have to be at work until mid-morning, and she had brought a pair of work clothes with her on the off chance she needed to run in for anything.
When Cynthia's alarm went off in the morning, the second she had rolled back over from hitting snooze, Diantha had moved to her side of the bed, snuggled up to her once again.
Cynthia would have been lying if she said she wasn't seriously contemplating calling out for the day. Waking up like this was…certainly something she could get used to. A thought she was quick to shoo away.
"My poor night owl," Diantha said, voice tinged with sleep, completely oblivious to how close her lips were to Cynthia's neck.
She wasn't unaware. If anything, she was hyper aware of it, now very awake.
"Forced into the land of you day-birds. How do you even do it?" she asked, leaning over to kiss her forehead.
She hummed. "I'm lucky that my district has the latest start time. I'm rarely up before seven," she said.
Something Cynthia remembered from the few weeks she had spent watching Avery and helping her sister. She kept saying how much her high school self was jealous of Avery's nine AM start time when hers had been seven AM.
Leaning up to kiss Cynthia's cheek, Diantha forced herself up. "I'll go make coffee. You get ready for work," she said, slipping out from under the warmth of the covers.
Watching her leave, Cynthia remained planted in her spot for a moment longer, begging herself to keep everything under wrap. All the begging in the world couldn't begin to do such a thing, and her entire time spent getting ready she felt like she was constantly fighting the thought of, "I have to kiss her back."
She certainly knew she didn't have to. It was that she wanted to, and she wanted that so badly it was manifesting itself as a physical ache.
Melodramatic.
She was being melodramatic.
Shoving a hair tie into her pocket with enough force to shove down all her melodramatic thoughts, she headed for the kitchen, where the smell of coffee was thick in the air.
A soft orange glow filtered into the kitchen from the rising sun, and leaned against the counter was Diantha, cup of coffee in hand and a soft smile on her face.
In her chest, Cynthia's heart skipped a beat, and skipped again as Diantha turned to look at her.
She wanted this morning. She wanted this morning to last forever if it could. To live in that moment of coffee-coated warmth.
"My, don't you look nice," she said, a warmth in her tone mirrored on Cynthia's body.
She forced a laugh. "Gotta look halfway decent. If there's one thing I've learned from this job, it's that children will tell you if you're looking rough," she joked, watching Diantha set her cup down on the counter.
She laughed in response. "Honestly, high schoolers aren't much better. At least with them, there's a chance they'll realize what they've said." She reached up into her cabinets, pulling down two cups. One a regular coffee cup, the other a travel mug. "Are you able to stay, or should I send you on your way?" she followed up.
Glancing over at the clock on the stove, Cynthia figured she could stand to stick around, but forced herself to make the other choice. Hanging around any longer, and she was positive she was going to cave more than she was about to.
"Seeing as I don't know what traffic is like from this direction, I should probably head out, but just know that I really do want to stay."
"I don't hold it against you," Diantha said, storing away the other cup. It was what she figured her answer would be, and she wasn't disappointed. She already had two days with her, and for that she was grateful.
Slipping past her to grab the travel mug, a simple silver cylinder, she pushed through her own hesitation, quickly placing a kiss on her temple. "Thank you," she said.
Firmly planted in her spot, Diantha pulled her coffee cup back into her hands, not trusting herself to keep them to herself otherwise.
Against her better judgement, as she poured her coffee, fixing it up with the vanilla creamer Diantha had put on the counter, Cynthia found herself laughing.
"What?" Diantha asked over the rim of her mug.
"Are we just going to pretend to not notice how much we've been kissing on each other, holding hands, and being as touchy as possible?" she asked, turning around to face her.
She laughed, the sound warming Cynthia in ways her hot cup of coffee couldn't. "Oh, come now, darling, I would consider this very on brand for the two of us. We did that dance for, what? Almost four years in high school?"
Cynthia laughed in turn, taking a long sip. "I don't know if that was an incredible amount of patience or stupidity."
She hummed, offering her a one-shouldered shrug. "I think it's safe to say those can easily go hand-in-hand."
Anxiety flared in her chest. "I know I said it yesterday, but I still just– I don't want to take advantage of you, Diantha."
Setting her mug aside, she turned to fully face Cynthia, offering out both her hands. "Give me your hands, darling."
She did the same, slipping her hands into hers.
"Cynthia Elizabeth Jenness, I promise that you are in no way taking advantage of me. The worry hasn't crossed my mind even once." She squeezed her hands for emphasis. "Besides, we don't have to rush into anything. I'm enjoying spending all this time with you, Cynthia, and…" She felt her heart preemptively skip a beat. "I'm willing to give this –us– a second chance if you are."
"I'd really like that," she said, the words flooding her chest with warmth.
Before she could say anything else, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Likely, it was one of her time to leave reminders. Once more, she found herself contemplating calling out at the last minute. Steven could be frustrated with her later.
Diantha breathed a laugh, letting go of her hands. "I suppose I should send you off to work," she said.
Cynthia nodded. "If you need anything, just call, okay? I'm probably going to be working on the new exhibit paperwork and planning for a while, so I can always slip away if needed."
Diantha thought she had a good grip on everything. She thought she was going to be able to refrain from anything overly affectionate for the time being. Despite herself, she stepped forward, up on her toes to kiss Cynthia's cheek. "Thank you for everything, Cynthia."
"You don't need to thank me," she said, forcing down any and all thoughts of kissing her. Despite how much it was clear they were both on the same page, she still wanted to make sure Diantha had time to continue healing. They had all the time in the world together. As she had said, they didn't have to rush into anything.
Snagging her travel mug off the counter, she tipped it towards her. "And I'll be sure to get this back to you as soon as I can."
She laughed. "That was the whole plan, darling. Just an excuse to get you to come see me again."
"Trust me, you don't need to make an excuse to get me to come see you," she said.
Despite leaving at a reasonable time, the traffic wasn't something Cynthia had anticipated. Never driving to work from the direction of Easton, it ended up forcing her to be late.
A quick call-ahead to let Steven know she would be late, and everything from there would be fine. She was rarely, if ever, late, and the building itself didn't even open to the public until an hour after her shift started.
Saying a quick good morning to the front desk attendant, who disappointingly wasn't Skyla, she headed straight for Steven's office, a near twenty minutes late.
Steven crossed his arms, looking at her with what was surely the most forced anger she had ever seen from him. "How dare you be late," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "This is what the…"
She bit her tongue to hold back a grin, leaning up against the doorframe.
"Maybe fifth time in however many years– what must the other employees think? I practically let you get away with murder around here," he said.
"You gonna finally fire me?" she asked, unable to hold back her grin.
He shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping him. "And lose my senior curator? Yeah right!" He looked down at his planner. "I don't have you booked on a tour until after your lunch break, and even then, I might throw someone else on it so you and I can work on figuring out how the hell we're going to move everything from the planetarium wing before next week."
She nodded. "Just let me know."
Excitement still coursed through her veins at the mere thought of getting that exhibit. It was usually booked out years in advance, and snatched before they could even so much as put an offer on it.
Steven leaned forward, his hands clasped together atop the desk. "So, not as your boss, but as your friend: why were you really late?" he asked.
Her heart skipped a beat. She took a long sip of her coffee before answering him. "I drove in from Easton this morning."
He hummed. "And you weren't staying with your sister, were you?" he asked with a knowing grin.
She gave the smallest shake of her head. "I was with Diantha," she answered, glazing down at the travel mug in her hands. She hadn't noticed it before, but at the bottom, on the other side, was a small black carnation. Her old motif; a play on the origin of Diantha's name. Just like that, she realized she was going to have a hard time giving it back, because she liked the silly reminder of her.
Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair. "How is she fairing?" he asked.
Cynthia shrugged. "She's managing. Her mother has always been a sore subject as I'm sure you remember." He nodded. "I guess it was wishful thinking on my part to hope that things would have gotten better between them for Diantha's sake."
"I know what you mean. I always held out hope that Geneviève would have some sort of miraculous…" he gestured with his hands, trying to find the right words. "Turn around, I suppose. A realization of the kind of woman she had turned into."
"You and me both," Cynthia said.
From there, they moved on to the topics of the day, focusing on where to start with getting things ready for the new exhibit. The day was set to go as smoothly as possible. Plenty of work to focus on, but in the back of her mind, she kept going back to how excited she was to eventually show it all to Diantha...
Wisteria was just as cold from when she left, but thankfully, the trip had been shaping up to be a far better one. While, sure, the bar was low in that regard, Diantha did her best to stay in the moment, enjoying spending time with her father.
Every night, without fail, after her father had retired for the evening, she would stay up to call Cynthia. "I miss you"s had been exchanged a number of times by then, and being in Wisteria certainly wasn't helping.
As she stepped back into the den, after taking an earlier than usual call from Cynthia, Gabriel remained in his chair, giving her a knowing smile.
"Now, what's that look for?" she asked, resuming her spot across from him.
"Are you ever going to tell me who you've been calling every night?" he asked.
She felt herself flush and hesitate, suddenly worried about potential disapproval from him. While he no longer had any sort of say over what she did with her life, the thought of him being disappointed by her reunion with Cynthia had weighed heavily on her.
"Do you...Do you remember Cynthia Jenness?" she carefully asked.
After a moment of thought, he nodded. "Yes."
"It seems she and I have found our way back to one another. It turns out we both have been in Cordova for the last few years, and so we recently reconnected," she explained.
He nodded again, leaning back in his chair. "Are you happy?" he asked.
So many times he had asked her that while with Mel. Countless times he had asked the very same question, and every time she had lied.
"Yes," she answered with a smile. Unlike her lies, she felt no need to over-explain herself.
He returned the smile, needing no convincing. "Then that is all I can ask for you, my dear."
He tapped his hand atop his fist, suddenly hesitating, looking over to the fireplace to distract himself. "I am...My dear, I am truly sorry I didn't stop your mother from tearing you two apart. You were always so much happier with her than you ever were with Mel, and I just- please know that I am so sorry, my dear."
"Father-" she tried, but was quickly cut off.
"No- Diantha, I knew exactly what your mother was doing and why. I remember the long conversations with Kathi Lee on how to best get you to leave her. I knew her reasoning, and even though I disagreed, I stopped fighting for you, too scared to lose her."
Sympathy pain beat in her chest, knowing he had still lost her in the end.
Diantha reached out to grab her cup of tea, concentrating on the scalding warmth in her hands. "Not to open old wounds, but...what was her reasoning?" she asked.
She had her own suspicions throughout the years, but now was probably the only time she would ever get true closure on the matter.
He shook his head, sighing upon his exhale. "Your mother was much like her own, and her grandmother before her, her great-grandmother, and so on. She clung to the old tradition of marrying someone with wealth and status of some sort. Both of those things, Cynthia lacked."
She frowned, gripping her cup tighter. "Cynthia's grandmother-"
He cut her off again. "I know, I know- trust me, dear. I tried defending her many times in the early years, reminding Geneviève how Cynthia's family was full of accomplished researchers." He paused to shake his head again. "Unfortunately, that wasn't the kind of status your mother was looking for. She shut me down one too many times, and I...stopped fighting for you. I am terribly sorry, my dear."
Part of her had expected to not believe him. To think it would end up only being a convenient lie to save himself, or worse, her mother's image.
Instead, she believed him. Wholeheartedly, in fact.
Her father was blinded by love for a woman who was happy to keep him blindfolded.
It was as much closure as she was likely to ever get on the subject, and somehow, it was enough.
"What's done is done, father. I had my fair share of blame as well. I had been too scared to tell Cynthia of the things mother and Kathi Lee would threaten me with. Had I said something?" She shrugged. "There's no way of knowing what could have been different. For now, all I can do is work to build the best future for myself, and Cynthia if I'm so lucky."
He nodded. "If you are, I hope I get to see her again. I always adored that brilliant mind of hers," he said.
Something she adored as well.
She grinned. "You only liked her because she would humor you and grandfather with your stories," she joked.
Though, she knew saying Cynthia humored them might have implied she wasn't actually interested in anything either of them had to say, which couldn't have been further from the truth. Cynthia had always been happy to listen to whatever story from their pasts the two men would share, and always seemed to know just what questions to ask them to further engage the two of them.
He laughed. "There was that, but more than anything, I loved the way she made you smile," he said.
That she certainly continued to do…
While much of her was looking forward to heading home so she could see Cynthia again, a part of her was content to be staying with her father for a while longer. If nothing else, it provided her with ample time to figure out just how she wanted to go about the more difficult conversations she knew were on the horizon.
She knew that if she wanted to be with Cynthia, she was going to want to lay bare everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly -which as far as she was concerned, there was mostly the ugly.
She needed Cynthia to be aware of what she would be signing back up for.
While the thought of doing so made her anxious, it didn't terrify her. To love again was to be vulnerable, and for Cynthia, she was willing to do just that...
AN:
so um. it's. uh. it sure has been a minute hasn't it? ^^;
apparently it was January 2019 when I last updated this fic.
at LEAST two things have changed.
i go by Kellyn now [he/him, they/them] so like. Yay me?
when this fic was last updated, there were thREE LESS TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUMS OUT. LOVER HADN'T EVEN BEEN RELEASED YET W HA T
COVID 19 wasn't even A THING when i last updated this fic. what the f cu k
i've had an actual office job for over a year now. 9-5 office job. it's not glamorous but it pays the bills. i moved clear across the country for this job so like. wack.
MAIN NOTE THO:
The next chapter is gonna be HEAVY. Like. HEAVY SHIT.
Content Waring for the next chapter: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, eating disorders, and heavily implied physical abuse
It'll all be in the past section of the chapter, so like. When that's posted you're free to simply read the present part of the fic and skip the rest of the chapter. I'll note this again at the beginning of the chapter when it's posted.
hope you all have been doing well in these weird ass times
stay safe
-Kellyn
