Chapter 8- This Light
Upon turning around, she received a light kiss. "Fiona Coyne Day?" the curly brunette questioned. "I thought those were all a thing of the past."
Imogen pulled Fiona towards the table and sat her down. "No, most certainly not, Mrs. Coyne. Fiona Coyne Day is the second most important holiday; they don't simply stop occurring." She walked into the kitchen, picked up two plates, and returned with them."
"Second most important? What's the first?"
"Imogen Moreno Day, of course," the young woman teased. Uncovering the plates, she revealed a seafood pasta she had cooked. It was one of the many recipes that her father had passed down to her, and one that she knew her wife was always in the mood for, carbs be damned.
Fiona rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I even had to ask," she laughed. "This looks amazing, Immy, you didn't have to do all this."
"I wanted to! I appreciate everything you do so much, and want to apologize for being so difficult sometimes. I know that you're doing the best you can, Fiones. If you need to keep working late, I get it. We'll get through it."
"Well actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I got the new assistant hired today, so I don't foresee many late nights in the near future. I want nothing more than to spend as much time with you as I can, especially before the baby gets here. Immy, you weren't overreacting when you said I spent too much time at work." The socialite sighed as thoughts of her assistant's failed relationship filled her head. "I can't lose you. I just can't. Please promise me that you'll always tell me if you need more from me. I don't want you to feel like you're overreacting or nagging or anything. Just please promise that-"
"Where is this coming from?" Imogen interrupted, as she stood up and moved to the chair closest to her wife. Her hands embraced Fiona's. "Hey…what is wrong?"
"Promise that you won't look for someone else, no matter how bad things may feel at the time. Just say you'll tell me so that I can figure out what I need to do to fix it."
The room was silent. Their plates remained untouched on the table as they sat, no longer having much of an appetite. Imogen sifted through the words running in her head, trying to figure out just how she could reassure her wife. It seemed throughout most of their relationship, the younger girl had become dependent on the other when it came to the security of their commitment. Almost always, it was Fiona that was confident that nothing could come between them, and it was unsettling to have the roles reversed.
"Imogen?"
"There's something you need to know."
Fiona's stomach dropped at the words. 'Oh god, I'm too late.' kept cycling around her thoughts. This conversation had taken an immediate plunge. How was Imogen capable of such a thing? She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Truth was, however, that she had neglected her wife for her job, and now she had to face the consequences. Nervously, her voice pushed through. "I forgive you."
Imogen's head jerked back, confused. "Wait, what? You forgive me for what?"
"Immy, I haven't been the best wife lately. I haven't given you anything close to the attention you deserve. I know it gets so lonely for you here when I'm not home…So I forgive you—for needing the companionship of someone else, I forgive you. I love you, and always, always, I'll forgive you."
The now insulted young woman dropped her wife's hands from her own and pushed back in her chair, creating an obvious distance between them. "What in the world are you talking about, Fiona? Are you serious?"
"Well you said you had to tell me something…and it was right after I was discussing that situation with you, so I assumed—"
"Exactly how little do you think of me?" Imogen interrupted. "Do you honestly think that I would ever be able to do that to you? Or that I would even have the slightest bit of desire to? God, Fiona, I was just going to tell you that you're the only person I have ever loved… Will ever love. And that you need to know that you can trust me to never do anything of that nature to you." Calming down, Imogen exhaled. "No matter how lonely it gets in this home when I don't have your arms to wrap around me, it would be a million times lonelier in someone else's."
Fiona couldn't help but sigh, feeling very relieved. "I'm so sorry, of course I don't think that of you. It's just this conversation I had with Eliza has me over-analyzing, and everything seems like its been so difficult for us lately," she said, running her fingers through her curls, "It seems like every conversation we have ends in some kind of argument. I've been home less than an hour and already I've ruined your dinner… I just don't want to screw this up. I don't want to screw us up."
Standing up from her seat, the quirky woman motioned for the curly brunette to follow her direction. "Look at me," she whispered. "Okay, now listen closely, because this is the last time we are ever going to have this conversation, understand?" Fiona nodded. "You are not screwing this up. I'm not going anywhere. We're going through a rough patch, sure—it happens. I'm sure it will happen again down the road, too, because forever is a long time to spend with someone without there being a few bumps in the road from time to time." She reached her small hands up and clasped her slender fingers around Fiona's neck. Leaning her head forward against her wife's, she continued with soft words, barely more audible than a breath. "I want this forever, Fiona. Don't you ever question that." As the last word escaped her lips, they were met with a chaste kiss from Fiona's, and silence surrounded the two young women.
Imogen intensified the kiss, furthering it towards something more, but was quickly slowed down by her wife. "Hey…" Fiona hesitated, "do you mind if we just go lay down and talk tonight?"
A puzzled look developed on the quirky girl's face. "Fiona Coyne, the woman with more hormones than my teenage brother, just wants to talk? Okay, I guess we really are going through a rough patch," she chuckled, though not sure if she should be offended by the rejection.
"No, it's nothing about that. I just really miss talking with you. And if feels like its been ages since we've been able to just…hang out, you know?"
Understanding all too well, Imogen grinned, thinking of just how nice it was to have her soul-mate home tonight. Cuddled up under the blankets with her beautiful fashionista, deep in conversation, sounded like the perfect ending to their Fiona Coyne Day. "I'd love that, Fiones." Picking up the two plates of untouched pasta, Imogen went to turn towards the kitchen. "Let me just put this up, then I'll be right in there."
"Actually," Fiona reached for Imogen's arm to stop her from walking any further, "bring those with us. We can eat them in bed."
Her wife's brown eyes lit up instantly, "A picnic on the pillows? Can we really?" she squealed, much too enthused to even attempt to hide it. She gave her wife a peck on the cheek, and then bounced into the bedroom with their plates before Fiona even had time to respond.
Entirely amused, Fiona rolled her eyes, blew out the candle, and followed her goofy companion through the glass paned French-doors. As she swung them closed behind her, she caught a reflection of Imogen hopping onto the bed with their dinner, not being nearly careful enough to not spill. Her heart panged at how happy she felt in that moment. With a travelling mind, her thoughts drifted to that of their impending arrival. While exciting, it also scared her that adding a child into the equation might wear down on an already fragile state of their relationship…and she couldn't lie to herself that she really enjoyed the rare alone time she was able to spend with Imogen, instantly becoming concerned about how much alone time they would have together once they had their baby boy. The uncertainty was overwhelming.
"Hey, are you coming? Or is the door more interesting than my seafood pasta? Not like I spent two hours cooking it or anything…" There was sass heavily evident in Imogen's tone.
Snapping out of her apprehension, she was thankful to have her train of thought interposed. Fiona kicked off her heels, climbed into bed next to the feisty young woman, and decided to take everything one day at a time, letting the future's ambiguity to be dealt with another day.