AN: As always, thanks to my beta, shelter!
Irene smoothed her shirt nervously, wondering if it had been the right choice.
Then she chastised herself. Clare was eleven for goodness sake. It didn't matter what Irene was wearing.
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It took eight seconds for Teresa to answer with a wide, beaming smile.
"Hey." She leaned in to give Irene a short, chaste kiss before stepping back so that Irene could walk into the hallway. "You look nervous."
Irene glared at her. "I am nervous, you ass."
Teresa grinned. "She doesn't bite. At least, not anymore. We trained her out of that when she was seven."
Teresa steered Irene into the living room where Clare was sitting on the couch. She was a bit short for her age, with chestnut hair and bright eyes, and Irene had to choke back a gasp. Clare looked exactly like the girl from her dreams, the girl with fire in her heart. Irene could only contemplate this for a moment before Teresa was introducing them.
"Clare, this is Irene." The girl stood cautiously and held out her hand for Irene to take. Clare's grip was stronger than she had expected.
Irene could not understand why Clare would be in her dream. Had she seen the girl in the pictures that hung on Teresa's walls? That had to be it. A perfectly logical explanation that she knew was not true. She had dreamed of Clare before ever stepping foot in Teresa's home.
"It's nice to meet you, Clare," she said, managing a proper sentence, still shaken.
"Yeah, you too." The child seemed nervous and apprehensive, her eyes narrowing as she studied Irene.
Irene felt her own awkwardness grow, and she glanced back at Teresa.
"Okay, well dinner is just about ready, so let's move this to the dining room, shall we?" Teresa asked, clapping her hands together. She ushered Clare and Irene to the table, making them sit while she left to get the food. Irene and Clare both stared after her, horrified that she had left them alone together.
Pushing down her panic, Irene decided she had to be the adult.
"So, um, Clare," Irene began, bringing the girl's eyes back to her. "What grade are you in?" It was a stupid, impersonal question that she probably got all the time, but it was the best Irene could think of at the moment.
"Sixth." Clare did not elaborate.
"Oh, so is that middle school yet?"
"Yeah."
"Do you have a favorite subject?" Irene really wished that Teresa would come back and rescue her.
"Art."
"Oh, really?" Thank God. "I took a lot of art classes in school."
This seemed to pique Clare's attention. "Do you draw?"
"When I have time," Irene said, feeling more relaxed. This was Teresa's daughter. This girl would be her family if she and Teresa lasted. She had to try and foster this relationship. "It's hard to find the time now because of work."
"That sucks."
Irene mulled over that. "I suppose it does."
"What do you draw?"
"Mostly people." She left out the fact that for the last couple of months, it had been mostly Clare's mother.
"I like to draw horses," Clare said. "I'm not as good at people."
Irene smiled. It had been the same for her at that age. "I can give you some pointers, if you want," she offered.
Clare returned her smile. "Really? Thanks."
Teresa picked that moment to return, placing a salad bowl on the table. "Just got to get the chicken out of the oven," she informed them before dashing back into the kitchen. Irene watched her go, admiring her fluid grace.
"Mom said you worked in business," Clare said, pulling Irene back.
"I do. I help run a rather large firm."
Clare nodded, but Irene could tell she really did not know what that meant. "Do you make a lot of money?"
"Yes."
"More than Mom?"
"That's not really important."
Clare considered this for a moment, and in the lull in conversation, they heard Teresa curse in the kitchen. "That happens all the time," Clare informed Irene. "She gets ahead of herself. I'm not supposed to repeat any of those words, either."
Teresa came back, carrying a platter of chicken, placing one on each of their plates. It would never cease to amaze Irene that Teresa was a good cook. They had no need for it as warriors...
"There we go," Teresa said, sitting down. "All right, dig in." Irene smiled at her and speared some lettuce on her fork. "So, you two getting along?" Teresa looked very nervous for the answer.
Irene glanced at Clare, who nodded as she chewed.
"Mhm. Irene likes to draw, too."
"I know," Teresa said, relaxing visibly. "She's very good."
"She's going to help me, right?" Clare turned her questioning eyes on Irene.
"Of course," Irene agreed, guilty that she had ever been so jealous of this child.
"Good," Teresa beamed. "I'm glad that you guys have something in common." She looked as though she was going to say something further, but Teresa's phone rang. "I'll be right back." Clare and Irene watched her with curiosity.
"Who do you think that is?" Irene asked.
"I dunno. Probably her publicist."
As Teresa returned, they both realized Clare was wrong. "...and I know that's not what...Mom, please, just let me..." Teresa sighed with frustration, pacing in and out of the dining room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "I really can't talk right now, Mom...Because I have company...Yes...No, you can't talk to her...When I'm sure you're not going to embarrass me, so never...Yes...Yes...God, Mom, of course we're still coming for Thanksgiving...No, she's having it with her brother...Fine, I will...Uh huh...Yeah...okay, I love you, too. Bye, Mama." She hung up and rubbed her brow. "Grandma says hi, Clare. And she says hi to you, too, Irene."
"Oh, well, you should have let me talk to her."
Teresa was still keeping her family out of the picture as much as possible. Irene was unsure what that meant, but she chose to give Teresa the benefit of the doubt.
"I'd rather your first conversation with her be in person, not over the phone," Teresa said. "She's more...well, she's really not any less irritating that way, but she's easier to handle."
"So I have to wait until Christmas to talk to her?"
"It's better that way, trust me."
"Irene's coming to Christmas?" Clare looked between them, and Irene could not decipher her expression.
"Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you that earlier," Teresa said sheepishly. "Grandma invited her, but then all this stuff with the press...it kind of slipped my mind."
"If it makes you uncomfortable," Irene said to the girl, "I don't have to go. I can spend it with my brother. I don't want to intrude."
Clare regarded her carefully while Teresa watched with anticipation. "No, it's fine," the girl said finally. "I was just surprised, that's all."
"You'll know Irene better by then, I promise," Teresa said. "I want you two to bond."
Clare gave her mother an odd look, one that Irene did not understand. "Okay."
"Anyway," Teresa continued, "I kind of want my mom to be so curious about you that she has no choice but to love you. I mean, she already likes you, but I want to make sure she doesn't get a chance to make you uncomfortable until I'm there to protect you."
"I don't need your protection," Irene said lightly.
Clare snorted. "You kind of do." She shared a knowing look with Teresa. "Grandma can get kind of intense. And she never really liked Dad. She never said it, but even I could tell."
"Clare," Teresa warned, sounding very much like a mother. She raised an eyebrow and then turned to Irene. "Don't worry about that. Mom's not going to treat you like she does Chris."
"I really do want her to like me," Irene said softly. "None of my other girlfriend's parents liked me."
"Why not?" Clare asked. Teresa sent her a glare, but she was too focused on Irene to see.
"They all thought I was a bit...odd," Irene said carefully. She had been too quiet or too arrogant or too cold. Nothing had ever fit. She kept her eyes on Clare. She had never told this to Teresa and did not really want to see whatever expression was on the other woman's face. She shrugged. "But I suppose it all turned out fine because now I'm here." She looked at the other two and then back at her plate. "Sorry. Now I've gone and made it awkward."
Teresa reached across the table and took her hand. "Not at all, love."
"Speak for yourself," Clare muttered. "All this mushy stuff is gross."
"Oh hush," Teresa told her playfully. "You like it just fine on those TV shows."
"Yeah. Not when it's my mom," Clare countered. Irene thought she was actually going to like this girl. She had Teresa's wit. "That's fiction. In real life, it's just gross."
"Sorry to have offended you." Teresa did not look sorry at all. In fact, she stuck out her tongue in the most childish manner.
"Oh, grow up, Mom," Clare said, rolling her eyes.
"Is it always like this with you two?" Irene asked.
"Yes," they answered simultaneously, and then they flashed matching grins.
"Now I see the family resemblance," Irene said.
Both Clare and Teresa laughed. "We actually get that a lot," Teresa said. "Clare doesn't look much like me, but she has my mind."
"I still haven't gotten an apology for that," Clare snipped. She smirked at Teresa, who rolled her eyes in return. She opened her mouth to retaliate, but the phone rang again. This time it was Irene's.
Irene jumped up from the table when she saw the name. "Paul?"
"Hey, Ren. Elda's gone into labor. I'm at the hospital now," her brother said, sounding excited and frightened at the same time. "She's doing fine so far."
"Should I head over there?"
"I think we have a couple of hours, but come when you want."
"Do you want me to come?" Irene asked knowingly. "To keep you company and all that?"
"I mean, if you're not too busy."
"I'll be there in a half hour, okay?"
"You're awesome, Ren," Paul told her.
"I know. All right, I'll see you soon. Love you."
"You, too."
Irene hung up and turned back to Clare and Teresa. "Elda's having the baby."
Teresa smiled widely. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go on!" She said, shooing Irene away. "Go be with your family."
Irene leaned in and kissed Teresa right there in front of Clare, who made a few retching sounds.
"It was lovely to meet you, Clare. I hope next time we actually get more time. Teresa, I'll call you later," she promised before heading out the door.
Once on the street, she hailed a cab. At the hospital, she quickly found Elda's room, and had to dodge a few nurses who recognized her. Irene doubted she would ever become accustomed to being recognized like that. Teresa was such a big celebrity that it seemed the entire world knew of her new girlfriend.
Luckily, the nurses seemed to have some level of professionalism and pointed her in the right direction. Paul was pacing outside when Irene got there. Before she could even open her mouth, he launched into an explanation.
"The baby's in distress," he said, the anxiety and fear clear on his face and in his voice. "They're prepping her for a C-section right now."
"It's going to be okay, Paul," she said, pulling him into a hug. "They do this all the time. Everything's going to be fine. Elda's healthy, the baby's healthy, and there's nothing to worry about."
He nodded against her shoulder. "I know. I know. I think I just needed to hear someone else say it." He sighed and pulled back. "I'm just really freaking out." A nurse stepped out of the room, interrupting them.
"Mr. Winters, we're going to take her in now. You should come with me so we can put you in some scrubs."
"I'm going in?"
"Of course." The nurse smiled and Paul followed her, looking over his shoulder at Irene. Another nurse came up to her.
"Ms. Winters, you can wait in the waiting room. It's much more comfortable."
Irene nodded and followed her, finding a chair in the corner next to a stack of magazines. She began shuffling through them, reading asinine articles about best dressed lists and horoscopes of celebrities.
At the bottom of the pile, she came face to face with a picture of herself in a casual kiss with Teresa. She stared for a moment, eyes passing over the blurbs that surrounded the picture. All of them asked who the mystery woman with Teresa Blackwell was. The magazine promised an answer on the inside. Irene glanced around the waiting room. None of the occupants seemed to pay her any heed, so she brought the magazine to her lap and flipped to the instructed page. She had not actually read the article that had outed them, and she was curious, in a perverse way, of what it said.
The article was by another picture of her and Teresa, much closer together this time. She grimaced, knowing that they should have been so much more careful.
Bracing herself, she began to read.
Teresa Blackwell has always been known for her superb acting skills, impeccable fashion sense, and stunning good looks. But now all anyone can talk about is how she was caught outside the chic New York cafe, Zen Palate, locking lips with a woman. Our best investigators have been on the case.
The woman in question is thirty-four year old Irene Winters, daughter of William Winters, the real estate tycoon. Irene is currently running the Eastern branch of the goliath business firm, Pennington Global. She's been an out and proud lesbian since her teenage years, but her personal life is mostly a mystery.
Sources suggest that Winters met Blackwell at the annual Gala for Winters' Ovarian Cancer Foundation. Winters started the foundation after her mother died. It is one of the largest foundations of its kind. Blackwell's older sister also suffered from ovarian cancer before passing away at the age of twenty-two. Blackwell has since used her fame to bring attention to the hard-to-catch disease.
No one knows how long the two have been canoodling, but the relationship seems to be at least a couple of months along. A waitress at Zen Palate confirmed that Winters and Blackwell can often be seen eating there.
Despite the fact that she has a daughter from a previous marriage, not everyone is surprised to see Blackwell in a same sex relationship. Her marriage with National Geographic photographer Christoper Darren ended four years ago amid allegations that Blackwell had cheated. These suspicions were later confirmed by a statement from Blackwell. The actress never gave a name, but it has long been suspected that it was with one of the stylists on the set of her Oscar nominated movie, The Invincibles. This led to the dissolution of her already rocky relationship with Darren. The two are still on good terms for the sake of their daughter...
There was more left to read, but Irene sat frozen, her heart constricting at the new information.
Teresa had cheated on Chris. That was why they had divorced. Why he had wanted one in the first place. The hand holding the magazine shook, and she swallowed hard. Her whole body felt numb, and she thought she might be ill. A cheater. Teresa was a cheater. Irene shuddered. What was the saying? Once a cheater, always a cheater.
This was worse than before, worse than Teresa leaving her out of the blue...
The hand on her shoulder startled her, and she dropped the magazine.
"Ms. Winters?" She looked up to see one of the nurses. "Your sister-in-law is out of surgery."
Irene brought herself back to the present. "The baby?"
"They're both doing fine," the woman said. For a moment, Irene forgot her personal pain, and let a smile cross her lips. "A healthy baby girl."
"Can I see them?"
"We want to give Elda a little while to recover. I'll let you know."
Irene nodded. Once the nurse was gone, she leaned down to pick up the magazine, and her brief elation diminished as she remembered the new revelation. Sighing, she pulled out her phone and walked down the hall where she might have some privacy. When she was sure she was alone, Irene dialed Teresa's number, knowing that she was waiting for news about the baby.
The phone rang once...twice...three times...
"Hey, how's Elda? How's the baby?" Teresa's voice made Irene's stomach twist into knots, and for once it had nothing to do with her dreams.
"They had to do a C-Section, but they're both fine now," Irene said, knowing that her voice was shaking and that Teresa would hear it. "I haven't been in to see them, yet, but I needed to call you."
"Irene," Teresa said cautiously. "What's wrong?"
She took a deep breath. "While I was in the waiting room, I read the article about us."
"Okay…"
"You cheated on Chris." There was silence for a few moments.
"Yes. I did."
"You didn't think that was something you should tell me?" Irene struggled to keep her voice calm and steady.
"I thought you knew." Teresa sounded confused.
"How would I have known?" Irene asked harshly. "I can't read minds!"
"Everyone knows," Teresa said. "It was all over the magazines and the news when it happened. Nothing I do is private, I told you that at the beginning. I never thought that there was even a possibility that you wouldn't already know."
Irene slumped against the wall, bringing her hand up to rub her brows. "I don't...I don't read the magazines. I never have. I don't keep up with that kind of thing. You know that." She closed her eyes briefly. "I know I've skirted around this before, but I've been...I've been cheated on."
Teresa sighed on the other end of the line. "I'm so sorry, Irene. I didn't know. God. I see why this would be so upsetting. How about I call Clare's nanny, and I come over to your place and we talk about this?"
"I don't know when I'll be done here." She wanted to stay until she was sure Elda and the baby were all right. She was also unsure if she really wanted to have Teresa in her home when she felt so vulnerable.
"I don't care how late it is," Teresa said firmly. "I won't let you go to bed tonight without getting the full story. The magazines...they don't know what really happened. Okay? Okay, Irene?" Irene could not answer for a moment. "Please give me a chance to explain my side. Trust me enough for that."
She had trusted Teresa before and gotten burned.
Shrugging her shoulders to dispel the thought, Irene nodded. "Okay. I'll…I'll let you know when I'm home."
"You promise?"
"Yeah. I promise." She lost her nerve and hung up, leaning her head back against the wall before walking back into the waiting room. A nurse was there waiting to take her back to see Elda and Paul.
The baby was beautiful, but Irene could not fully appreciate the miracle of life. She was too distracted, too wound up, and she knew Paul could tell. Irene stayed with them for a while until she saw that Elda was ready to sleep, exhausted by the day's efforts. She excused herself and walked down to the street with Paul.
"Are you okay, Ren?" he asked in the elevator. "You seemed a little distracted."
"I'm fine," she assured him with a small smile that she knew had to look forced. "Just some personal stuff."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"If she hurts you..." Paul let the threat hang in the air. They both knew there was little he would be able to do, but Irene still appreciated the sentiment.
"It's not like that. It's just something we need to talk about." At least she hoped so.
Paul wrapped her in a loose hug. "Thanks for being here today. I hope everything works out with Teresa. You seem so happy with her."
She nodded and gave his hand a brief squeeze before stepping outside to hail a cab. The ride back to her building was long and tense, and when she was in her kitchen she stared at her phone for a good half hour before texting Teresa. It was nearly eleven at night.
-I'm home now-
-Okay. I'll be there soon.-
After a moment and some debate, she got up to pour herself a glass of wine, hoping that it would relax her nerves despite the risks. It was half empty by the time Teresa knocked on the door.
"Hey."
"Hey." Teresa's eyes glanced around the place quickly, taking in the spartan decoration before landing back on Irene. "Where do you want to talk?"
"The living room." She led the way, stopping in the kitchen for the rest of her wine before settling into one of the chairs placed around the seldom used television. Teresa glanced at the glass, but didn't say anything. She seated herself into the one across from Irene, not too close, and looked apprehensively at her girlfriend.
"I'm sorry, Irene."
"Yes, well, I'm sure you are." She had trouble keeping her voice steady. "But that doesn't change anything."
"Give me a chance to explain."
"Explain why you cheated on your husband? Please, do explain that. Did you accidentally fall and end up with your face between someone else's legs!"
Teresa flinched. "It's not...it's complicated. You don't understand."
"Make me understand."
"Rosemary was working on the movie I was doing at the time," Teresa began. "I was already upset because Priscilla Rose had started taking my roles. Plus, Chris and I were having a rough time. I know that's not an excuse," she said quickly as Irene opened her mouth to protest. "I know that. We had been having problems for a long time, and this girl was really getting under my skin. I wasn't...I wasn't in a good place. He was always gone, and I was always gone, and I never should have married him in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
"We got married because…God, because I thought I loved him and my parents didn't approve, and I was young and defiant and stupid. And then Clare was born, and I felt like I had to try and make it work for her sake But I...It never felt right. Never. It always felt like something was missing. But I tried so hard to ignore that, and I thought when Clare was born, we would get better. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. But it wasn't what I wanted."
Teresa took a moment to breathe deeply, keeping her eyes on Irene.
"When I met Rosemary, my marriage was already over in every sense except the legal one. I know I should have waited, but I was so messed up, and she was very willing to take advantage of that. It was only a few times, and I told Chris as soon as I got back home, though I left out the part where I cheated with another woman. I...I didn't want him to know. He took it better than I expected, but that was the end of it. He filed for divorce that week. It was amicable. There were no allegations, no mudslinging. I always assumed Rosemary was the one to tip off the press. She was...vindictive."
Irene sat stiffly in her chair. She was unsure what to think. Both women Teresa had mentioned tugged at something inside her. Priscilla's name, especially, drew up a deep, instinctive fear that Irene only associated with her dreams. It was enough to almost make her forget her anger.
But she had to address what Teresa had done.
"Irene? Please say something." Teresa bit her lip nervously.
"I think I need some time," Irene said quietly.
She actually understood how Teresa could have gotten to that point in her marriage. She certainly did not approve, and as someone who had been in Chris's position, she knew the sharp pain and loss of self infidelity caused, no matter what the state of their relationship had been. The part of her that had been hurt like that was suddenly scared of Teresa. Scared of how badly the other woman could hurt her now.
"Oh. Okay." Teresa nodded. Her entire body was coiled with tension, and she looked more frightened than Irene had ever seen her. More frightened than when they had been sent to kill Hysteria. "I understand." She stood to leave.
"Teresa..." She turned her head back to look at Irene over her shoulder. "I need time. I haven't made any decisions yet."
Teresa closed her eyes briefly. Irene could see she was shaking. "Okay. Just...I would never do that to you. I could never do that to you."
It took everything Irene had not to fold. "I'll call you."
Teresa nodded once more, then let herself out. Irene sighed and went to get ready for bed. It took her hours to get to sleep and when she did, her dreams were frightening and stressful. The demon was back, and Irene knew it was after her. There was a warrior past her limits, a flash of blond hair, and a shocking spray of blood. And death. Always death.
She woke up feeling even less rested than she had before.
Part of her was hurt that Teresa had not told her about the affair, but the rational part of her realized that it was because Teresa had honestly not thought that she needed to disclose that information. It was on her Wikipedia page. Irene had checked. It was common knowledge, and she could not blame Teresa for her own ignorance.
Still, it would have been nice if Teresa had at least brought it up. It was still something they should have discussed.
The larger part of her was more scared of the affair itself than Teresa's lack of disclosure. She reasoned that Teresa's marriage with Chris had never been strong, that her infidelity had been because she was unhappy and looking for comfort. It was not like what Irene's ex had done to her. It was very different. It had to be different. Because she really did not think that Teresa would do that to her.
From all the small hints, from the way Teresa's mother reacted to them, from the way Clare had regarded her at dinner, from the terrified look in Teresa's eyes as she explained herself, Irene knew that their relationship, as short as it had been, was much deeper than it had ever been with Chris. She was certain of it.
And that was what mattered.
Irene threw on some clothes and decided to walk around the city. She pulled a hat on over her ears, and wrapped a scarf around her neck, trying her best to hide her face. She walked for blocks and blocks, trying to clear her mind. Somehow, she found herself near Teresa's building. Taking it as a sign, she pulled out her phone.
"Hey." Teresa's voice was small and apprehensive.
"Hey. I've been thinking."
"Yeah. I...Have you..."
"I'm still a little mixed up," Irene admitted. "It's a lot to take in."
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think...I should have said something sooner." The sigh crackled over the receiver, and Irene almost missed the next words. "I've messed this up again."
"Well, we can't change the past. What happened, happened, and now all we can do is move on from that." Irene was surprised by how sure she felt. The thought of breaking up with Teresa drew up an agonizing loneliness she never wanted to experience again. "It's going to take a while for me to fully trust you again, but I want to give you the chance to let me try. I love you, and I like Clare, and I want to meet your parents, and I want you to meet Paul and Elda and the baby."
"I want that, too. After I got home last night, I was so scared that I had really screwed this up." Irene heard Teresa take a deep breath. "I thought I had lost you again. I love you, Irene, and I know it's going to be hard with all the media attention, and I am so sorry for that. I know it's what I signed up for, but I know it's not what you wanted for yourself."
"I can handle it, Teresa," she said, and she actually believed herself. "I can do it."
"Are you...Are you busy right now?"
"No. I was taking a walk."
"Where are you? I could come get you."
"No need. I'm actually just a few blocks from your building."
"Oh. Well...you should come up. That is...if you want to. Clare's at her father's for the weekend."
Irene let herself smile. "Okay."
As she stepped into the building, she could not help thinking that the woman who died in her dreams was the woman who slept beside her at night.