Trigger Warning: Mentions of pedophilia and non-consensual sex.
During the cold, busy weekend Sara noticed from her living room window upstairs the U-Haul trucks standing outside. It was the only window inside her home she could view the lonely street from considering she resided in a very secluded area. She was cleaning the large French window as the sound of the breast pump filled the whole room. Growing sensitive to the disturbing hum of the machine, she tried her best to increase the volume of her music as she cleaned.
When she found the trucks, she paused in her place. A crowd of trees and a high fence shielded her home from her potential neighbors'. The garage, however, was uncovered and easily distinguished by the eyes of any human who stood in her spot.
A small electric car parked in the garage as Sara watched. She paused the song to focus and, maybe, call her wife to watch the view. The backseat door opened and a teenager left immediately. At first, Sara thought it was a boy, but immediately recognized that the body was feminine enough when the teenage girl faced her. Her eyes, quickly and subconsciously, took a glance at her chest and that's how Sara made sure. She didn't want to assume anything because the teenager had her cap on backward and was in a plaid shirt and baggy jeans like the one she used to wear in the 90's (those were in style again apparently) but for then she could just think it's a girl until proven otherwise.
"Tee," Sara called. Both doors of the car opened and from the front seat left a woman with long brown hair that Sara couldn't see the face of and from the driver's seat left a blonde man. A family, she thought. The woman turned around and said something to the teenager. The hand gestures were wild and the expressions were angry with furrowed brows and eyes growing narrower the more she listened to the teenager speak. The guy joined in and soon the teenager had her head down as she followed the two people. Parents and a child, Sara assumed. "We have neighbors," she said as she turned around to look at her wife pumping and her kids seated on the floor engrossed in their toys together (a rarity). "Come, take a look."
"Neighbors?" Tegan said squeakily. "Really?" She stood up. The sound of the machine stopped. She walked up to the window, still buttoning her pajama shirt. "Oh, my God! Yes, we do." She seemed excited and, admittedly, Sara, too, was excited. Their street was empty and they could use some company around. It was even safer. "I hope they have kids around the girls' age."
"Nope." Sara shook her head. The cleaning rag was in her hand still. "Parents and a teenager only. Maybe they have more children, I don't know. The mum didn't look old, just angry."
"Oh, you saw them."
Nodded Sara. She flinched a bit and almost jumped at the sensation of a touch on her feet. She looked down to find one of her children right next to her socked feet.
Tegan looked down, too, and squealed when she realized the child had managed to crawl to them. "She crawled," she exclaimed.
"Come here." Sara knelt down to pick the baby up. "Which one are you?" The other baby had rolled down on her stomach, too, attempting to follow her sister's steps. "Oh, it's Rosie." Sara kissed her nose to hear a giggle.
"Scar, come on, you can do it, baby," Tegan said. "Come here." Scarlet began to cry and whine as she used her stomach to move around. "Oh, it's fine, it's fine."
That was the lazy kid who didn't do anything more than she could take. She still sat on her butt all the time and once tired, she let her body relax and fall down, always hitting her head. Her mothers began putting pillows wherever she sat because she usually gave up on holding herself up after half an hour of being seated. Rose had more tolerance but occasionally imitated her sister's movements. They'd both fall down on the pillows behind them and giggle in unison, staring at one another with thumbs in mouths and feet wrestling together until they closed their eyes and dozed off.
That was just the routine during November's cold winter. Tegan had found a perfect spot in the middle of the living room close enough to the fireplace but not too close. The house had been baby-proofed a month before so no worries. They especially needed to do that because of the staircase they had. Sara installed an ugly metal door with prison bars that Tegan hated. The door squeaked all the time and at night, when Sara couldn't get any sleep, the door squeaked many times because Sara couldn't just stay in her place upstairs.
They always argued about that door, or the heating system, or the food, or the laundry, or the channels they watched…or any little thing they could both catch the chance to argue about as if their internal issues were going to solve themselves if they fought about silly matters.
Nonetheless, their love was fruitful and exciting. Though sex wasn't abundant, when it happened, it awakened their senses. Though it was quick, it still made them feel good. That was married life after all…right? Tegan shrugged to herself in response to her thoughts.
"We should invite them over," Tegan chirped at night while breastfeeding Rose. "To get to know them."
Sara looked up from her yellow book pages and yawned with a nod. "You want that?" Tegan nodded. Sara's eyes shifted down to the baby suckling loudly and back to her wife's face. "I think we should bake them something and take it to them tomorrow then invite them."
"Oh, yes…oww, fuck," Tegan screamed. "Stop doing that," she scolded her daughter. "I swear to God I'll stop feeding you if you continue doing this." Sara thought it was time to stop feeding that child especially because she bit all the time with a wicked giggle.
"Anyway, I'll bake a chocolate cake tomorrow when I get back from work." Sara yawned again and put her book down. "Good night," she whispered with a third yawn and switched off the lights, giving her back to her wife.
In the early morning, Sara, sipping her steaming coffee, watched through the French window as the blonde man left the house with the backpacked teenager and got in the car. He was probably driving her to school. Her daughter had managed to crawl to her feet again. She looked down and watched as the baby played with her maroon Oxfords and almost put the shoelace in her mouth.
"No, no, no," Sara warned sternly. Rose's green eyes opened widely as they looked up at her, the shoelace still close to her lips. "Don't do that," Sara said. Rose began vocalizing a few sounds that made no sense, but Sara pretended to understand her and responded, "Yeah, we don't do that. It's not sanitary." Sara pointed at Scarlet in the back staring at the TV screen. "Go to your sister. Go watch the cartoon," she ordered as if her kid understood.
"Is she playing with feet again?" Tegan asked once she came in and saw the scenery. "I swear to God, this kid is developing a foot fetish."
"She almost put the shoelaces in her mouth."
Scarlet squealed at the view of her mother holding two bottles of warm milk. She moved her hands up and opened then closed her fists. "Take yours." She gave Scarlet her bottle and the baby clutched it immediately, beginning to drink. It took some time to teach her but she finally mastered it. "Umm, yeah, I know. She crawled to my slippers last night and attempted to lick them."
"Eww." Sara wrinkled her nose. "Why do your kids have issues?"
"Excuse me?" Tegan raised an eyebrow.
"I'm kidding." Sara chuckled. "You know that I am." Tegan picked Rose up from the floor and sighed. "Are you serious right now?" How could she not even understand a joke? God, why was she so sensitive and serious? Had she always been like that? Stacy and Emy roasted the shit out of one another in front of her and she couldn't take a simple joke?
"Why are you stalking the neighbors? What if they see you?" she changed the topic, letting her frustration out on her daughter as she held her captive in one place so she could sit down and take her bottle. Rose had been moving all day since the day before and none of them could get her to say in one place. As soon as Scarlet learned how to crawl, Tegan knew she would lose it.
"They can't see me. The lights aren't on in here." Sara shrugged. "I like the fact that we have neighbors now."
Tegan glared at Rose. "Look at your sister?" She, too, pointed at Scarlet. "Sit next to her and drink your milk and stop moving." Rose, of course, did just the opposite of that and decided to crawl back to her other mother standing by the window leaving her bottle abandoned. "Aren't you hungry?" Tegan shouted angrily.
"I think it's the maroon shoes. She likes this color." Sara put her coffee mug down on the coffee table, as Rose trailed around behind her like a little puppy, and then picked her daughter up. She sat on the couch next to her frustrated wife and picked up the bottle again to feed the baby.
"She's going to fuck me today," Tegan mouthed irritatingly. "What if her sister learns how to crawl? I know how evil this one is…" Gesturing towards engrossed in her morning meal Scarlet, Tegan continued, "She'll lead the way and make her set the house on fire."
"You're so adorable when you exaggerate like it's your job." The professor leaned in to plant a small kiss on her nose. "Relax, they're not even quick. Scarlet would probably get tired half way and sit on her butt again. You should be happy they're healthy and moving." Tegan nodded, resting her cheek on Sara's palm as the older woman fondled her skin gently. "You're a bit tensed up, maybe I can give you a massage tonight," Sara suggested.
"Yeah," whispered Tegan. She was getting swayed by the soft fingers that continued caressing her skin. God, she wished they were caressing something else.
…
During her breaks from classes, Sara stayed on the phone with her best friend attempting to resolve a conflict only she knew about between Stacy and Emy. Stacy had confided in her because she couldn't tell anyone else. She asked her not to tell Tegan and Sara promised she wouldn't.
The conflict had been developing for over a month and, though Sara had sensed it before, Stacy only told her during the end of November. Sara didn't consider it a huge issue but it did tickle Stacy's pride and confidence and Stacy wanted to vent to her best friend.
Emy was aloof, often unresponsive, and rejected any type of help and any sort of care. She mostly pretended she was fine while Stacy could clearly hear her struggling with her ongoing migraines and fits of anxiety alone in the bathroom. When she cried, she hid it. When she felt pain, she pretended like it was nothing. When she was angry, she isolated herself. Stacy tried to fight with her but, instead of fighting, Emy just nodded and went along with whatever Stacy said without giving an answer. That night, Stacy couldn't help but pin her down on the mattress and have sex with her without asking her to. Emy didn't seem to mind it, but the guilt in Stacy's system afterward led her to have an outburst of tears in front of Sara while they were shopping.
Since then, Sara called her best friend daily at the same time, making sure both had breaks, in order to discuss her issues with her. She wondered how Stacy would react if Sara shared her own issues with her wife. Her issues weren't as vibrant as Stacy's. Hers were lying underneath a rotten surface and she was doing her best to paint them invisible, hoping eventually they'll go away. It was much easier that way.
"I tried to talk to her about it last night," Stacy voiced dejectedly. "She didn't even acknowledge it. She said she just thought we were having normal sex."
"That's a good thing," Sara said. "You should be happy she doesn't feel violated."
"No," Stacy yelled. "I don't because I know what I did is fucked up. I squeezed her wrists above her head and pushed my fingers in her without a warning. That's not even normal sex."
"Maybe she likes it rough?" No, it wasn't normal sex, Sara agreed. Tegan would have cried and pushed her. She would have kicked whoever did that, too. "Some do like it like that."
"No," Stacy whispered. "She's so soft and shy in bed."
"It has nothing to do with soft or shy. Some aspects can be hidden." Sara heard a low sob. "No, honey, don't cry."
"What if she's slipping away? What if she wants to leave me? Am I too boring to her? Is it because I am a mother?" The issue was getting thicker and Stacy's anxiety had been aroused. Sara felt bad.
"I think you should talk to her about it."
"I told you I did." Sniffled Stacy then continued, "She thinks I'm trying to mother her and she hates it. She thinks I'm practicing my profession on her..."
"How was her relationship with her mother when she was a teenager?" Sara interrupted.
"Ummm…I'm not very sure. She doesn't talk about it."
"Well, ask her."
"What does it have to do with it?"
Sara sighed. "It does, trust me. Most of these traits are outcomes of trauma or certain behaviors. I noticed the reason Tegan likes to be mothered is that she's her mum's little girl and at the same time she has many conflicts with her mum." Stacy hummed. "I am not projecting, but you could ask her why she thinks this way about you."
"All I know is that her mum is umm…very…she's very messed up and not responsible. She was mostly raised by her grandparents because her mother was a teen when she got her and then went to college and left her."
"Ouch." Tegan hadn't revealed that ever. "She actually just left her?"
"Mhm. She and her dad broke up for awhile and then got back together and eventually got married when she was seven and founded their own home."
"You see, we have something in literature we like to call psychoanalysis, which is basically mummy or daddy issues if you ask me, but I think each one of us has them." Stacy chuckled. "Except you because your parents are actual saints."
"Yeah, they're really great," Stacy agreed. It took her awhile to recognize that her parents were angels sent from the heavens compared to everyone else's. When she was a teenager, she thought everyone had the same parents. Only later did she discover that her mother was a tolerant, open-minded woman and Sara's mother lacked personality, confidence, and tolerance. Her father was funny, strong-willed, and wise while Sara's father was an angry bigot and a hater.
After hanging up, Sara had a little time to prepare her lessons for the upcoming classes, except she was interrupted again by a knock on her door. She looked up to find the same beautiful woman she saw three days a week standing at the door.
"Your secretary's not here," the woman whispered timidly. Her eyes looked everywhere but at Sara's. While Sara's burned through her, the student avoided her entire figure. "I apologize for interrupting you…"
"It's okay, Samantha, you can come in." Sara sighed softly and put her books aside. She didn't want to be the mean monster in her department. Plus, the young woman seemed afraid of her. Too afraid in fact. "You may sit down."
Sara observed silently as the petite girl sat opposite from her on one black leather chair. Her boyfriend jeans were ripped, showing hints of her pale skin. Her white sweater was huge, but when she sat her breasts were accentuated as the sweater took some shelter beneath her bra. Sara averted her gaze immediately, a sense of heat growing on her skin.
"I know you're a professor and I know you're not our friend. I do know you're not a therapist or a social worker and I am aware of the fact you are married with children and you have your own life, but..." Samantha faltered with a little gasp of tears. Her eyes finally met Sara's squinted ones. "I need help."
"Are you alright?" Sara got up and walked to the door to close it immediately. She turned around and walked to the mini fridge she had put in her room to get a bottle of water for the student. "Calm down and tell me what's wrong." Nodded the girl with more gasps. "Calm down," Sara asked sternly, the way she had done to her daughter in the morning.
"I…." Sniffled the younger woman. Sara was growing restless but also worried. "I've been seeing a woman behind my parents' back…" Sara sat on her desk and furrowed her brows as she listened. "They're homophobes. Serious homophobes who would disown me."
Sara often wondered how some people were still homophobic in that modern time they lived in. "Do you live with them?" Sara asked to understand the whole story. Samantha nodded. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen," whispered the small voice.
"You can't move out?" Sara wondered loudly and Samantha shook her head. Sara thought for a minute.
"They're old and all my siblings are way older and live in different states. I also don't have a job."
"How old is your girlfriend?" Silence. Sara gave her a look. Longer silence. "Samantha?"
"You'll judge me."
"Try me." Who was she to judge? She's fucked up herself. Her wife was fourteen years younger than her.
"She's one of my mum's friends..." Sara's eyes widened and her heart thumped. "But not as old as mum."
"Can I ask a few personal questions?" Sara had to sit down and not on the desk because she felt dizzy. When Samantha nodded unsurely, Sara asked, "How old is she?"
Samantha shrugged her shoulder. She couldn't say. Sara understood it was too old. Sara shook her head.
"When did you start seeing her?"
"Two years ago."
"She's a pedophile," Sara accused loudly. Her chest ached and she felt restless. "Why? Who initiated it?"
"I'm not here to be judged. I'm here to look for help."
"You've been violated, what's wrong with you?" Sara yelled. She almost cried. If Tegan had been two years younger when she first made a move on her, it would be classified as an act of pedophilia.
"I did consent. I wanted it. I loved her. I...seduced her." Sara blushed because it felt hard for her to imagine one of her students seducing an older woman…one of her students other than Tegan, anyway. "She's in her thirties…not too old."
"She is," Sara said.
"I came to you because I thought you'd understand," Samantha attacked. "I thought you're the only one who would understand." That's what it was all along. Sara had always thought Samantha was into her, but it was just comfort.
"Why me?"
"Everyone knows you married a student who was here a couple of years ago." Sara nodded silently. Of course they knew. Rumors did spread widely and people loved to gossip. Plus, she had Tegan's picture with the babies in her office and whenever a student came they gasped and whispered and giggled sheepishly and complimented how beautiful her family looked.
"Your mother of course doesn't know about this relationship or the fact one of her friends has betrayed her like that." The brunette shook her head. "That woman lives on her own?" Sara wanted to make sure and she did with a nod. "And you can't live with her?" She received a deadpan expression which she couldn't interpret. "How did your mother meet her?" Sara asked instead.
"We have a pharmacy…as in we own it and she's a pharmacist there…well, was. Mum loved her and counted on her. During summer breaks I do some work and help around in there and she's the one who usually told me what to do. I didn't know I was into girls but I knew she was and she had this girlfriend whom I hated and my parents did so, too. Though for different reasons…" Samantha faltered when the professor stopped nodding. "I hated her because she seemed clingy and I was jealous. My parents did so because of the gayness."
"How come they allowed her to work if they're that homophobic?"
"Mum said she's great, and she is, actually. She used to take care of the place when my parents weren't around."
Sara didn't think her student's parents were extremely homophobic. She knew that if it were her father, he would not let that woman work with him. But then again, homophobia was just homophobia—extreme or not.
"That summer after I graduated high school, I realized she had broken up with her girlfriend and I was so into her I couldn't help but…" Samantha blushed and stopped talking. Sara nodded with a chuckle. Subconsciously, she looked down at her wedding ring. She missed those times she and Tegan were mutually seducing each other. "I made the first move and when I asked her out, she told me I was too young for her and that if my parents knew they would hate her and she'd lose her job." Sara felt less stressed out after the story had unfolded. Still, she couldn't really tell what her part was in all that. "It took me the whole summer to convince her to go out with me. A month before my eighteenth birthday, we went on our first secret date and she felt so ashamed but I realized she was into me after."
"You can't move in with her at all?"
"That's my problem…she wants me to come out and move in with her now that she's found a better job but I don't want to live with my parents' hate."
Living with one's parents hating them was not new to Sara, but it was a traumatic experience she hadn't recovered from. She understood exactly where her student was coming from. Every concern found its place and its spot and every worry was justified. It wasn't about settling in a different home, being safe, being financially able to support yourself; it was bigger than that. Living your whole life feeling guilty and sick because your parents don't accept you is not a life to live. Sara had been there. She only found peace when her mother visited her a few months before. However, peace with her father had never been obtained and she realized she was going to live her whole life struggling with her nightmares, internalized homophobia, and inner guilt.
She didn't know what to tell her student. Samantha wanted an advice on how to approach her parents but Sara was the wrong person to ask. Sara had to calmly explain to her the situation she had faced in her youth. She had to narrate her story in a soft octave, making sure to let the student understand the consequences behind her decisions.
"I am not telling you not to come out or move, but I am asking you to think carefully because both decisions will have consequences. I cannot make such a decision for you and you know why. It is your life after all. I shared my experience with you and from there you can make your own judgment." The younger woman had been crying. Her eyes looked beautiful when she cried. Her mascara ran against her cheeks and her nose turned red. Sara wanted to wipe her tears. She offered her tissues and gave her time to calm down in her office. Such situations were always hard and she always felt terrible because she couldn't do anything to help. Coming out was important to Sara, but family, too, was. Nevertheless, she'd never regret her decisions. If she hadn't gotten out of that house and come out, her life wouldn't have been shaped the way it was.
…
Stacy entered her home with a bag in each hand and a heavy heart sitting inside her chest. She walked in slowly and carefully listened to subdued sounds coming from Ella's bedroom. She threw her keys on the coffee table and put the bags on the floor with a huff. Her long parka was shaken off her arms and her hair was untied, leaving the purple hair tie to rest on the coffee table next to the keys.
She walked towards Ella's room where the sound was coming from. It was her partner's voice accompanied by her daughter's giggles. The door was partially opened and through the crevice she could see her girl and her lover on the carpeted floor. With a soft knock, she went inside where both girls looked up at her.
"Hi." She smiled. Emy smiled back and Ella stood up to give her a hug. Through the hug, her eyes scanned her lover's form clad in grey sweatpants and a grey tank-top. Her freckles looked dark against her pale arms, her glasses sat on her nose, and her hair fell on her face and covered her half-exposed back. Her top was too tight and the opening was so low that the older woman could see a clear cleavage that her lover wouldn't usually show. "What are you doing?"
"Emy is teaching me how to write my name," Ella said. She looked back at her new-found inspiration and Emy blushed in return.
"That's amazing," Stacy said. She sat down on the floor in her scrubs and took a long and hard look at her partner. "How are you?"
"I'm good." Her smile seemed genuine but Stacy could only see the melancholy inside it. She could only blame herself for it. "I got an A on my test." Stacy leaned in to kiss her and it did take Emy by surprise but she kissed back. Did she impose herself on her lover again? Was she supposed to ask before she acted?
"I'm proud of you," Stacy said. Her daughter was looking at them; therefore, she patted her lap to allow the five-year-old to sit down. Ella took the offer and buried her face in her mother's chest. "I've had a long day."
"Tell me about it," Emy asked. "What happened?" Emy must have seen it and felt it—the distress in her eyes, the sadness in her voice, the tears hiding inside.
"A patient died," she whispered with tears finally falling down. She didn't usually cry when patients died. It was never her fault; she knew that. She was just a head nurse. Doctors were just doctors. That day; however, with its bleakness, snow, and sunless sky made her cry. That day, with its anguish, restlessness, and guilt made her weep. "I feel suffocated."
"I'm so sorry," Emy whispered. She tried to hug her but didn't want to squeeze Ella inside. "I don't know what to…Ella's asleep," she whispered. Stacy looked down at her daughter calmly asleep in her arms.
"Oh, baby." She kissed her forehead and picked her up. "She must be exhausted." She placed her in her bed and covered her with a duvet. "Let's go out," she mumbled to smiling Emy.
They walked out to their bedroom where Emy plopped down on her bed and Stacy began to undress. That whole time she was changing into more comfortable clothes she was thinking about Emy and what she was thinking. Scanning her didn't help. Sara had told her to ask and talk but she was too scared. It seemed like it was the perfect time for asking and chatting; Ella wasn't around, Emy wasn't studying, she wasn't working.
She walked to the bathroom to wash up and hoped to find Emy in the same state when she went back.
Indeed, Emy was still there, staring at the ceiling above. She joined her in bed, finally gaining her attention. "How come you're not studying?" Emy shrugged. "Tired?"
"Very much."
"Can we talk?" She had to do it before it was too late. Emy nodded. "I want to talk about…" she faltered. She didn't know how to address it. "The…" She took a deep breath, didn't realize she had begun to cry. "What I did to you…the other day." She hiccupped and cried. "I feel disgusted and guilty."
"What did you do to me?" Emy sat up, alert and shaken. "Wait…you mean…the sex?" Stacy nodded and Emy seemed confused and puzzled. "Stacy, come on. I told you it was okay."
"It was not." She shook her head. "I just got angry and fucked you without even asking about it."
"Maybe I enjoy that." The red hue was there covering her face but it had been there for a few minutes and Stacy wasn't sure if Emy was embarrassed to admit that or the idea of talking about it was causing some discomfort.
"Do you?" Emy didn't give any reaction. "I felt like I was…assaulting you," she whispered the last phrase. Emy sighed. "And I feel like you're bored of me or with me. I feel like I'm too old and I have a kid and you're too young and I'm causing you some stress. I feel like you want to leave me."
"Whoa, whoa…" Emy chuckled but it wasn't because what Stacy had said was humorous. It was just surprising. Her eyes widened and her cheeks somehow reddened. "Where did you get all these ideas from?"
"My head," answered the older woman quickly. "Overthinking it."
"The only thing I just don't like is you treating me like you treat Ella sometimes," Emy admitted. "Like that's the only issue. I've been having some mood swings lately and, I admit, I'm no fun when I'm tired but work and school are fucking me in the ass and it's not the nicest fuck and then you come here thinking I like to be treated as a five-year-old when I've told you several times I am not Tegan." Emy took a deep breath then continued, "I don't wanna break up with you. I like rough sex. I like different things. I enjoyed that. It made me feel better, in fact."
"Em, asking you if you want something to eat or if you want a shoulder massage or a foot rub or taking care of you when you're sick isn't treating you like a child; it's treating you as my lover. These are common things lovers do." Emy's blank face expressed her lack of understanding. "Babe, I love you. I want to treat you like I love you. I know you're not my kid. Trust me I don't like the dynamic of Sara's and Tegan's relationship. It disturbs me, in fact. But it's also nice that they're not afraid to show how much they love each other through these actions."
"Maybe I don't understand love," concluded Emy, more to herself than to her partner. Her voice rained honesty and her eyes rained tears. "I haven't been loved, Stacy. I have only loved and liked and chased. Nobody had ever loved me so I don't understand this. I've never had a normal relationship with my parents. My mum's young…very young, and most of the time I was the parent. Till now I am. I have to call her every day to make sure the baby's still alive because I know she sucks at mothering."
"Okay, well, I love you," Stacy said calmly. "I hope you love me, too." Emy raised one eyebrow and Stacy laughed. "One can never be sure these days."
"You know that I love you," Emy confirmed. "I'm sorry if I misunderstood you." She jumped in Stacy's embrace to give her a hug she had longed for.
"No, I'm sorry that I was such a pain in the ass." Stacy held her tightly. "If I go overboard with my caring and it makes you feel uncomfortable, just warn me. I do get worried and turn into a nurse to people I care about."
"I mean you are one." Laughed Emy. "I'll try my best to accept this side of love and relationships. I'll do my best." Her neck was kissed and her tears halted.
In another home, when Sara unlocked the door and entered, leaving her bag by the door, she heard no noise and saw no face. She washed her hands in the kitchen sink and sipped some water to wash away her thirst. She called for her lover but no answer was given. She climbed up the stairs and walked up to the nursery. It was neat and empty. She walked up to her bedroom where the door was closed.
She opened the door slowly and her eyes widened gradually at the sight that met her.
"Hi," Tegan greeted in high-pitched anger. "Guess who learned how to crawl today and decided to clean our room with her body?"
Sara's mouth was agape with wonder and filled with passion as both her daughters stood on hands knees, face high, looking up at her with their big green eyes. "Oh my, God, look at you." Sara knelt down after kicking the door shut so her kids wouldn't escape. She picked up small Scarlet and showered her with kisses as her saliva filled Sara's face with its content. "You're so adorable, my cute little pumpkin." She put her squealing baby down and picked the other, giving her the same treatment. "You taught your sister, you little marshmallow?" She kissed her nose. "Huh? You always teach her, don't you?" She was filled with so much love that overpowered her—love for her kids, her wife, and her life. She looked up at Tegan. An urge to kiss every part of her skin engulfed her. She let go of the baby and walked over to the mother, grabbing her face with forceful passion stemming from the depth of her soul to kiss that face she had longed to see in the morning.
"Damn, what's wrong with you?" Tegan was laughing a little as she wiped Sara's kiss off her lips. "Horny much?"
"For you I am," Sara admitted with a red tint on her cheeks. A furrowed brow met her. "Are the girls going to sleep? I want to touch you."
"No way." Tegan stood up on the mattress and looked down at her wife's seated form. "We have to visit the neighbors, remember?" Sara sighed and nodded. "Maybe tonight."
Sara's clit drummed in her pants. She yielded to her wife's suggestion and gave up on the idea. She had seen herself grabbing her wife by the arms, pulling her pants and underwear down and fucking her with a fake dick. The image had travelled with her the entire ride home and she didn't know what had caused it a sudden urgency. The need was thriving in her body that even her nipples ached as she stared at her wife's body moving about in the room.
"You must've had a good day," Tegan observed. It wasn't usual of Sara to arrive in such high spirits. Often times she'd be too exhausted to say a single hello. She would ask for the kids to be placed beside her as she rested on the mattress. As they sat, they pinched her face and pulled her hair until she grew restless and asked Tegan to take them away. Scarlet, a week before, started sucking her cheeks as she dozed off on the mattress. Sara woke up in shocked horror. "She's trying to kiss you. Don't be mean," Tegan had told her. Actually, Scarlet was just hungry and the only way she could let her mothers know she was hungry was by sucking random objects or her mothers' skin.
"It was good," Sara said. "I have to tell you about this thing that happened today but maybe tonight." Sara was beginning to take her clothes off as she yawned. "Did they give you a hard time?"
"Why do you think they're locked in here?" Tegan said frustratingly as she sat on the floor next to her babies. Both were whiny as they moved around her slowly. Scarlet was back on her tummy, moving like a little snail. Rose was still on hands and knees, being chased by her sister. "Scar began to crawl all of a sudden while I was feeding them in front of the cartoons and then her sister followed and I had to chase around to make them sit so I could feed them. I put them in the chairs and they started this huge tantrum. One screamed and the other returned it. They basically empowered one another against me. So as I was getting Scarlet out of her chair, she began to hit my head with her hands."
"They want to be free," Sara said, laughing a little. "This is going to be hard."
"Yeah, I loved them way more when they didn't move." While Scarlet was attempting to climb up her mother's lap, Rose began to suck on her sister's foot from behind. Scarlet screeched. "Oh my God," exclaimed Tegan. "Stop," she told Rose. She picked Scarlet up and Rose demanded to be picked up too with a sudden cry.
She didn't understand why Sara wasn't helping her or what was so funny about that situation that Sara was laughing. She was annoyed, vexed, frustrated. Having babies was fun and games to Sara; a mere dream. Raising them, however, was not part of her dream. If Sara did that work day and night she would have hated herself.
…
The cake was in the oven and the kids went to sleep. Sara's need heightened the longer she stared at her wife as they had dinner. Even the way she moved her lips turned Sara on. She imagined those lips wrapped around her clitoris, around her tight nipples, kissing her heated body, whispering sensual words in her ears. She had to stop eating; she had to squeeze her legs together. She had to do something about it.
"Is there something on my face?" Tegan asked after swallowing her bite. Sara shook her head. "Stop staring," she whined.
"I want you," Sara voiced loudly. "Please. I really want you."
"Fine." Tegan sighed. "Just finish your food first." Tegan stood up to take the cake out of the oven. "When are we going to visit them then?" Sara knew her wife was eager to make friends. She wanted company. She wanted someone close to her.
"After we're done. The kids are asleep anyway." She hoped they didn't wake up before she fucked and got fucked.
In the bedroom she fulfilled her fantasy. She told her wife to lie down on the mattress as she stood at the end of the bed. Tegan's legs were on the floor while her torso was on the soft sheets. She took deep breaths as Sara disappeared in the closet. When Sara returned, Tegan's top was off but her sweatpants weren't. Tegan lifted her head up to take a look at her naked wife. Eyes widened, she put her head back down again.
"Why this one?" It was huge and Tegan's least favorite.
"I want to see how your pussy looks while I fuck you with it." Tegan gasped. "What?" Her sweatpants and underwear were taken off at once. She kicked them out and spread her legs. "Fucking gorgeous," Sara said.
"Get me wet first," Tegan asked. "Use lube." Sara walked up to her nightstand and sighed at her wife jokingly. They grinned at one another when Sara was rubbing the cold wetness on the phallus. When she rubbed some on the slit below, Tegan squirmed and giggled. Sara stroked the lips and played with the clit for awhile. She fingered her a little bit and grabbed her closer by the hips.
"I'm going to push," Sara informed, leaning down against her body. They kissed and Tegan moaned. Sara's hand was directing the dick against her drenched lips. Their breasts touched and Tegan hissed. "Shhh." Sara kissed the whimpering lips.
The quick thrusts and sudden pushes made Tegan scream and bite at Sara's shoulder. Sara's arms were scratched and pinched and Tegan's lungs cried in pain and pleasure. Sara hadn't done that in awhile. It was too rough and too strong that Tegan felt herself losing consciousness at one point. Her entire body was shaking. Her breasts were swaying. Her milk was oozing out. The bed was creaking. Sara was panting and biting and fucking and rubbing her clit. She slapped her pussy once and twice until Tegan shook her hand off. Her stomach cramped and her walls tightened. The climax was strong but too painful not to let a loud cry with. She knew after that walking would be a hard exercise.
Sara spread her legs after getting herself rid of the strap-on. She pleaded to be fucked by her wife's lips. "Suck harshly," she asked. "Make me feel it." Tegan didn't know what suck harshly meant. She was either going to suck her clit the way she could or not. She didn't want to hurt her. It seemed that Sara wanted the pain she herself could feel in her core. She licked and sucked then fucked with three fingers until the orgasm was approached.
"Oh, God," Sara screamed. "Peeing hurts." She was seated on the toilet with eyes tightly shut while Tegan was in the shower. "Fuck."
"I'm sorry," Tegan said. "Umm…" She pondered whether to tell her wife or not. "I'm bleeding a little bit." Sara's eyes opened suddenly. Tegan was looking at her from behind the glass door; her face was extended to take in the reaction. "It's nothing bad…you just…you were a bit too rough I guess."
"Damn," Sara mouthed. "Are you okay?" Tegan nodded. "Sure?" She smiled. "Have you ever bled after sex?" Tegan shook her head. "Not even after our first time? Like…using a dildo?" Tegan shook her head again. "Did you just lose your hymen?"
"I don't think such thing exists," Tegan said, her head was shielded by the glass door again. "Have you lost yours?"
"I have," Sara admitted. "When that guy fucked me in a school trip when I was seventeen. I bled afterward. Always thought it was that."
"Oh." They heard cries coming from the monitor. "Ugh."
"I can't pee…at all."
"You made me do it," Tegan said as she closed the tap. "They fucking woke up."
She limped to the nursery where Scarlet was pacifying her cries with both of her feet in her mouth. Rose was awake, too, but she was rolled around on her tummy, drooling in whiny whimpers. It was time for her to breastfeed but she had to pick one and the other had to wait. She, as customary, picked Scarlet because of her jealous nature. When she sat down on the chair, she winced. Fucking Sara.
When Scarlet was done with her meal, Sara handled her. She changed her diaper and clothes. Rose followed while Tegan tamed Scarlet's hair. Their hair was soft, but thick in nature and it was getting longer with bangs covering their eyes. Sara had given them a haircut which left them looking funny but it was the only way both mothers could hold them and chop the growing hair before it covered their eyes.
After they were warmly and cutely dressed, they were put in their mothers' bedroom so the mothers could dress themselves.
"Do you think they'll judge us?" Tegan asked. She was struggling to get her jeans up. The pain was growing stronger the more she moved.
"Fuck them if they do. We are who we are and we don't care." Tegan closed her eyes and groaned a little. "Are you that much in pain?" She nodded. "Shit, what if I did something to you? Scratched you or something?" Concern blanketed Sara's features as she buttoned her dark blue shirt.
"No." Tegan shook her head. "Umm, this used to happen with me when Jeremy did it. Like all the time. I sometimes cried. I just can't take it too rough." Sara nodded silently. "Plus, it's been awhile."
The last time they shared a dick was during that failed attempt of Sex Sunday. It had been a month. Sara sighed to herself.
Scarlet was placed in Sara's yellow sling and Rose in Tegan's hot pink one while the cake was held by Sara and the babies' bag by Tegan. They had rung the bell and were waiting for the front door to be opened.
"Maybe they're not home," Tegan said. The car was there, though.
"Maybe they don't want company," Sara said. As soon as she finished the sentence the door was opened quickly and a bit roughly. The teenager from Sara's spying mission appeared at the door in a black hoodie and pink shorts. Her hair was braided messily and her fringe fell on her face. "Hey, umm…we are your neighbors..." Sara faltered as she tried to introduce herself to the teenager.
"I am Tegan and this is my wife Sara and we wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood," Tegan took the lead. Usually Tegan would be the one who stuttered around strangers, but Sara always found it hard introducing her queer family to them. Tegan had learned that Sara's internalized homophobia often stopped her from doing so.
The teenager grinned widely and held the door open as a man appeared behind her. It was the same man that Sara had spied on.
"Daddy, they're our neighbors," the girl said giddily. Sara didn't know how she had mistaken her for a guy. She was so feminine up-close. Her voice was soft and her hair was longer than Sara had thought. "They're together! They're married," shouted the girl.
Both women blushed as the man stared at them with a smile. His face was red and so was his neck. His eyes fluttered as his daughter spoke, pointing out that they had babies, too.
"Stevie," the father called, "give us a break." He was embarrassed and Sara could see that. "Come on in," he invited. "I apologize for her behavior. She came out a year ago and she gets excited whenever we encounter a queer couple."
"Oh, that's cool," Tegan voiced. "So you're on our side, huh?" Tegan winked at the teenager and Sara raised her eyebrow as she walked inside the house that looked rather similar to their own. Perhaps all the houses in the neighborhood looked the same.
"Sit down, please," the man asked and both women sat down with their girls beginning to whine. "My wife Madeline will be here in a minute. Stevie, call your mum. Tell her the neighbors are here." The daughter nodded and ran out quickly. "We heard that we have neighbors and we were planning to visit tomorrow as soon as we're settled in, but here you are." He stood next to the bar smiling.
"We wanted to get to know you and maybe invite you to dinner tomorrow night," Sara, finally, mastered the courage to say a proper sentence.
"That's kind of you," he said. "Scotch?" he offered.
"Yes, please," Sara said, relaxing a little bit.
"No for me," Tegan denied calmly, wondering if he could tell she was the one with the babies and the one who breastfed.
"So twins, huh?" he asked the question immediately after Tegan's decline. He'd probably thought it.
"Yes," both answered at the same time.
"Almost eight months old," Tegan added, looking down at her daughter's teary eyes. "I'm sorry that they're whiny. It's a new environment for them."
"Not a big deal," he said, sitting down opposite from them. "I remember Stevie giving us the hardest time around strangers. We adopted her when she was a month old and it was hard at first."
"Oh, no, these are ours…biologically," Sara hurried to fix the possible misunderstanding. "Well, hers…" She smiled at her wife. "We had a donor."
"I didn't mean to…" he faltered. "I wasn't assuming they're adopted…"
"Oh, I'm sorry," Sara apologized awkwardly. She was still bad at this. It was still so awkward for her and Tegan to introduce their family.
The moment of awkwardness was soon gone as the mother entered with a jovial smile and warm greetings. The teenager followed like a little puppy running around after their owner. Their neighbors were kind and also funny. The father made too many dad jokes which made his teenage daughter groan in agony. The mother talked about her job as a lawyer and her husband's business in advertisements. Sara tried not to reveal many details about herself so the age gap she shared with her wife wouldn't receive judgments. However, when asked, Tegan took the lead answering that she and Sara had met in a bar years before they got married and Sara was only thirty-two—nine years older than her.
Sara followed the narrative, smiling to herself. The neighbors didn't seem like they cared, but the teenager continued staring at Tegan the entire time she talked. When Rose began pushing her face against her chest, Sara noticed the girl's eyes on her wife's breasts. Some type of fury escalated to her head. She interrupted the sharp stares by asking about the teenager's age.
"Fourteen," answered Stevie with a blushing face as if startled and caught in the act.
"And you came out last year?" asked Tegan in awe.
"Yeah, she came up to me from school and told me she probably likes girls. I've always known," said the mother like it was no big deal. Sara envied Stevie's teenage enthusiasm and confidence and parents. She wished she'd had that when she was young.
"That's so cool that you just knew early on. It took me years of denial," Tegan continued. She was beaming at the guests, trying to push her daughter's hand away from her chest. By then everyone had stared including the parents. "I came out at nineteen." She looked at Sara, whose eyes were focused on her. "When I met her," she said bashfully.
"That's very beautiful," the father said. "That's the love I want you to get, not the on and off dates you have with every girl you have a crush on."
"Dad," Stevie yelled angrily. Parents were there to embarrass and say nonsense. It was a known fact and Sara knew she'd end up like that dad.
Though she didn't talk much, Sara felt thankful they didn't end up living next to hateful bigots. She admitted to her wife she had been scared of that before they went to bed.
"I'm excited for them to come tomorrow. Madeline is very nice," Sara said.
"I like how the kids liked Stevie. I can use her as a baby-sitter." Sara giggled. "We finally have neighbors."
"Be careful, though," warned Sara. "Stevie has a minor crush on you and you're enjoying it."
"What?" shouted Tegan. "Do you think everyone's into younger people like you?" Sara chuckled. "Plus, eww, she's a child and I'm married."
"The kid has a crush on you. I could see it. I saw the way she was staring at your whole body." Sara shrugged. "Just don't wink at her and seem flirty. You're my wife and I know you too well. You're just like me and you enjoy having younger people being into you, but please be careful because she's a teenager so don't make her think you're okay with it."
"Wow, Sara." Tegan yawned. "You really concluded all that from an hour's visit?" Sara hummed. "You have issues."
"Thanks," mouthed her wife. "I hope you won't be limping embarrassingly tomorrow," she said.
Their neighbors had noticed. Madeline asked if Tegan had hurt her legs. She grew crimson red and stuttered. Sara responded that Tegan's ankle hurt.
"It's your fault," whispered Tegan knowing too well it wasn't.
The truth was that it was her own fault. She hadn't given herself any rest. That toy she had purchased was attached to her clit daily at first until it was accompanied by her fingers inside her. It was becoming an obsession. At 12, when the kids napped, Tegan took out the toy and played with herself. She waited for it daily. She stopped asking Sara for sex and when Sara offered she had to remind herself she wasn't supposed to decline it. After each orgasm, she cried on her own for an hour. She didn't know why she cried. It was just relaxing. It washed away the guilt. Guilt of what? She had no idea. She just felt guilty and upset.
…
Stacy called to ask if Sara could babysit Ella the next morning. Sara declined because she had guests coming over. She told Stacy about their new neighbors.
"Emy's not alright," Stacy said. "She has a terrible fever. Spent all night moaning and sweating."
"What's wrong?" asked Sara worriedly.
"I don't know," dejectedly, answered Stacy. She was growing restless. "I don't understand what's going on. Too much stress I guess."
"I'm really sorry I can't babysit Ella," Sara apologized, feeling guilty.
"No, it's fine." Sighed her best friend. "I'll keep her with the neighbors. I just really gotta take Emy out of this…misery she's in. I thought about taking her out; get her to change the scenery."
"That's good." Sara hummed. "Is she at work?"
"Yeah. You think she'd listen to me and stay home?" Sara laughed a little. She imagined her friend asking her lover to spend the day at home and rest covered in blankets and showered with meds. She knew Stacy too well. She knew how agonizingly affectionate she could get.
"Just don't be too nursey with her…"
"Ugh. Stop this. She's tired." Stacy mumbled something under her breath that Sara couldn't hear. "Everyone thinks I'm just there to suffocate them."
"Stace, chill." She couldn't comprehend the sudden anger and irritation.
"I just feel like this is my fault." Sara sighed. Not again with the same mantra. "I pushed her to get this teaching degree and now I'm making her lose vigor and look sickly pale and she's barely able to concentrate on anything."
The guilt was eating her. The pain of regret was slicing up her thoughts. She overthought it though Emy told her not to do that.
"Please stop doing this to yourself," Sara said. "You think Emy's young? You think she's a kid who needs guidance? If she couldn't do it, she would stop."
But advising her seemed helpless and Sara was getting restless by the second. She had to fake having a class to get off the phone with her. Instead she called her wife who didn't pick up the phone because she was masturbating.
The phone was put on silent mode out of the room while Tegan had her laptop opened in front of her widely spread legs as loud screams and moans traveled through the speakers, stimulating her to push harder and quicker with the same dildo she had been fucked with the day before. The pain was ignored and pleasure was met.
She cried after. She sobbed. Her voice was loud and her tears were abundant. Her heart ached after she finished. Getting up felt hard and walking to the bathroom to shower felt harder. She stumbled and almost collapsed in the bathroom. The pain between her legs sharpened the longer she stood underneath the warm water. She was going to make a fool of herself around people. Sara was going to be suspicious.
She breastfed both girls after she got dressed and ready. While Scarlet was being fed, Rose sat on the carpeted floor, facing her mother's seated figure on the couch. Rose stared at her mother and smiled whenever Tegan smiled at her or talked to her. When it was Rose's turn to be breastfed, Scarlet giggled loudly as she watched some cartoons on the television. The louder her kids laughed, the livelier she felt, forgetting about those tears she'd shed earlier.
Sara arrived with sighs of exhaustion, resting her head on her wife's shoulder while she was still breastfeeding their younger daughter. "Why does she suck so quickly as if you're gonna run away or something?" Sara wondered loudly, eyes focused on her wife's chest.
"That's her normal pace. It's been like that since ever." Tegan shrugged her shoulder to get her wife's head away. Sara sat up, understanding the gesture immediately. "She bites too much though. She bites then looks up at me because she knows it hurts me. She's evil." Sara chuckled. "Also, stop staring at my tits." Sara rolled her eyes with a playful smile. "How was your day?"
"Exhausting. I had to give three meetings and listen to Stacy whine on the phone."
"Again?" Sara sighed with a nod. "What's up with her?"
"You should ask what's up with your friend because she feels like something's going on."
Tegan tsked. "She's just grumpy. She gets like that. It's normal." Sara furrowed her brows. "Why do you think her relationships never last and girls always dump her?"
"What is it?" Sara didn't understand her wife. She didn't know Emy well. All she knew about her was that she had been her rival but not any longer. She had loved Tegan but not any longer. She was often quieter than everybody. Perhaps that was the problem.
"She pushes people away. It's just her. She doesn't share. She's just mysterious and doesn't admit it when she's annoyed or bothered. She doesn't…I don't know how to explain it. She just doesn't share affection." Sara continued nodding as she watched her daughter crawling up to her. She knelt down to pick up Scarlet who giggled making the pacifier fall from her lips. A trail of saliva followed and fell down on Sara's cheek. "Eww."
Sara didn't care. She kissed her baby's cheek and played with her, cooing and giggling and loving.
They both cooked when the babies napped. Sara mentored and Tegan helped. She had been learning different recipes and some were coming out perfectly done that Sara would moan at the taste. Sara teased that she was always going to be the teacher and Tegan was always going to be the student.
Sara also noticed the slight limp and the concealed wince. She was a very observant person when it came to her wife. She focused on the walk but didn't say much until a moment before their guests arrived.
"Are you still in pain down there?"
"No," Tegan answered right away, staring at her phone's screen. "A little bit."
"You're limping." Tegan looked up. She had spent the whole day trying to perfect her walk despite the sting she felt. "I noticed it."
"I told you just a bit."
"I can't believe I hurt you that much." Sara was worried.
"You didn't." Chuckled Tegan. "I am perfectly fine. " Sara let it go because their neighbors had rung the bell.
The teenager accompanied the couple as Sara expected. She watched her closely as she played with the babies and made them giggle. She also observed her glances towards her wife and the way her cheeks reddened whenever Tegan addressed her.
"I love your babies," she expressed at the dinner table. "Can I come and play with them?" Stevie was honest and vocal about her needs, Sara noticed.
"Stevie," her embarrassed mother said with a shy smile.
"That would be awesome, actually," Tegan said. Sara looked at her. "She'd help me around with them. Sometimes Sara takes too long until she comes back home and I'm alone in here with the two of them. It gets hard and boring."
Hard and boring. The words reverberated in Sara's ears throughout the evening. She imagined her wife and the teenager alone in the house with her kids. She imagined them laughing. She imagined Tegan having a new friend for her, sharing inside jokes, sharing laughter and smiles. She imagined and she grew restless, having to remind herself her imagination was pathetic and disgusting. She had to remind herself that Stevie was very young and what she had in mind was classified as pedophilia and her wife wasn't a pedophile. What if Stevie made a move on her, though? No, no. She's a kid. Kids shouldn't be into adults. But she was when she was younger. She had often admired older women. She'd had a crush on her history teacher. She'd imagined her naked in bed, fucking her, licking her, kissing her.
"I'm bad at English," Stevie told Sara after dinner when the adults were discussing careers. Sara was talking about her fondness of literature when the teenager interrupted. "I never get good marks. I don't know how to link things."
"That's because you don't study," reminded her father.
"It's because I don't understand those stupid old texts."
Sara didn't know what to say. She'd always loved to read so she didn't understand it. "Maybe if you understood them they'd be easier for you." Stevie shrugged. Her eyes were slightly teary. Sara wondered why.
"She doesn't like her English teacher," whispered the mother. "She treats her badly because of her sexuality."
Sara looked at her again. She knew Stevie wanted to cry. She could see it. Sara had teachers who hated her, too. They hated her because they thought she was annoying, loud, and rude. She knew they suspected she was into women and that was also a reason they didn't like her.
"But this is Canada," said Tegan. "I mean…aren't we over this yet?"
"Oh, honey, you should see the schools here. Some people are just very mean," said Madeline. "Students still bully and some are still homophobic."
Sara worried about her kids and she knew Tegan worried, too. In few more years they would be in school and everybody would know they're the ones with the married mums. Sara hoped by then things would be better. She'd honestly thought people were much more tolerant than they had been. She clearly didn't know much.
"It's because she's fourteen," her father added. "People think a fourteen year old can't tell what her sexuality's like. It's like you have to be old to be gay."
"I've known I liked girls since I was eleven," Sara revealed. "I've always known it."
"Me, too," Stevie shot excitedly. "I told mummy when I was twelve." The kid still called her mother 'mummy' and Sara had been thinking about her those crude thoughts that she immediately regretted. Maybe she had misjudged her. Her mother kissed the side of her head and Sara looked at her daughters seated in their chairs with a smile. She couldn't wait to have those moments with her kids.
…
The date was disastrous. Stacy and Emy went back home with a huge fight. It was just an argument at first but loud retorts were exchanged the entire time they sat opposite one another that Stacy, eventually, had to tell her partner they should leave, ending the night with tears in the car. Emy didn't understand her tears, but she, too, began to cry after awhile.
Ella watched as the loud voices got louder. It's as if they forgot she was there in the room. Stacy's distress showed on her features. Her face grew red, and her hands were shaking as she touched the objects she needed. Emy's breaths were heavy and her tears were plentiful as she took her pillow and a blanket and left to the living room.
None of them knew why they fought. How did the simple argument escalate? Why couldn't she interact normally? Why couldn't she just do what they wanted of her? Something was probably wrong with her. She hated when they interfered, when they suggested, advised, recommended, cared. She hated care. She wanted to care about herself only. Nobody was supposed to care about her or take care of her.
But she loved that woman. She truly did. She hadn't ever loved someone as much as she loved her. Why did closeness disturb her? She was making her feel terrible. She was making her feel unworthy, as if she wasn't enough and she didn't know how to stop it.
That was their first fight and it was the worst ever. She woke up with a stiff back in the morning. She could barely walk to the bathroom and the scene that met her eyes was horrifying. It's as if she was chosen for the lead of a horror movie. She showered, brushed her teeth, and went back to the bedroom to get dressed and go to work. Stacy was in bed. She wasn't supposed to be in bed. She was supposed to be getting ready for work.
She woke her up gently, but Stacy refused to get up. Her voice was broken and her face was damp. Had she slept the night before? Emy attempted talking, but Stacy shook her away.
"I don't wanna go to work," she said. "I can't."
She was doing that with her coldness, with her frigidness, with her fucking indifference.
"If you're not going to work, I'm not going to work either."
"No." Stacy groaned. "Don't do this please."
"I'm sorry I'm like that." Stacy turned around to face her. She almost jumped. That was a more terrifying view than the one she'd seen in the mirror earlier. Her lover was older than her and it showed immensely just then. "I swear I love you," she said, "but I can't tolerate it when you advise me thinking you know me better than I know me."
"I was just worried. I am, I mean." Stacy huffed. "Because I love you, I worry."
"I don't like it." Emy shrugged. "I just don't like anyone interfering."
"You think I'm anyone?" Stacy nodded. "Is that how you see me?"
"See?" Emy began to cry again, ruining the mascara she had put in attempts to fix her restless face. "I just hate this…over…attachment. This connection. This whole…my God, you don't get it. I am myself. Like this is my life. You don't get to tell me what I'm feeling."
Was the fight ever going to be over? She couldn't understand Stacy and Stacy couldn't understand her.
It went on for days. Sara attempted interfering but Tegan told her not to.
"She'll never change," Tegan said. "One time I told her she should take fifteen hours credit at university instead of eighteen and she was so rude about it, thinking I was offending her abilities. Guess what? She almost failed. She just thinks we underestimate her when we tell her to…you know, be gentle with herself."
"But wasn't it Stacy who encouraged her to go to teaching school?" Sara asked.
"Yes, but that's different. That's telling her to take more not take less. Now Stacy's telling her she should consider quitting is what's bothering her…the fact that Stacy doesn't believe in her."
"Oh man…" Sara paused a little. Rose was standing on her lap with her own support, but Rose's hands were pulling and tugging at her hair. "Such personalities are so…"
"Hard to live around. I know." Tegan attempted taking Rose away. "She ruined your hair."
"It's fine. Keep her." Sara didn't mind her kids messing up her hair, or clothes, or face. Scarlet often pinched her cheeks whenever she found the opportunity. "Did Stevie come over today?"
Stevie had asked to visit and Sara waited every day for that visit while she was at work. Madeline visited Tegan once to return the cake plate. It was fully of brownies which both women devoured while watching Black Mirror at night. Sara asked for sex after it. Tegan told her she was too full to have sex. Sara fingered herself next to her wife, who giggled unashamedly when her wife squealed after her orgasm.
"Shut up," Sara mouthed playfully. "As if you don't do it."
"I never make sounds fucking myself." Tegan shrugged. She still didn't tell Sara she did it almost every day. Sara was vocal about her own masturbatory habits but she just couldn't admit it to her.
"Huh?" Sara asked again, waiting for the answer which took too long.
"Umm, no." Tegan's mind raced back to reality. "But your mum called me."
"What?" Sara exclaimed. "Why?"
"She was just checking on me and the kids. She's such a cutie." Sara sighed. "She also wants us to visit her during the holidays," Tegan mumbled. "I think she wants me to convince you."
"Aha." Sara smirked. "I knew there was a reason."
"I don't mind it. I'd love to see Vancouver." Tegan wanted a change of scenery. She wanted some quiet time away. She wanted something new. "But we can't tell my parents. They'll be jealous."
"Ugh. We always visit yours. It's about time we visit mine." Sara paused. "Or half of them."
"So you're in?" Tegan asked excitedly.
"I'll talk to Mother."
Stevie visited the next day. Sara was at work and Tegan was about to breastfeed after her masturbation activity was over. She welcomed the teenager in and offered her a seat.
"You just came back from school?" The teenager nodded shyly. "Want something to drink?" They were upstairs where her guest had never been. She was already occupied with the babies, holding a blue toy and moving it around in front of Scarlet's face. Scarlet wasn't only fascinated; she was having the time of her life as her giggles were the loudest in the room.
"I'm good," said Stevie, attempting to make both twins giggle. "I wish I had a sibling. I wouldn't be so bored." Tegan smiled at her and walked back to the couch. "My parents can't make babies. Do you know that I am adopted?"
"Yeah. Your dad mentioned it." Stevie looked back and smiled at her. "Do you have cousins?"
Stevie nodded. "Plenty."
"That's good."
"My biological parents died in a car accident. I lived because I was with the nanny. My grandparents put me up for adoption and I found out when I was seven. I met my real aunts and uncles and grandparents when I was nine. I also have cousins from my adoptive parents. They're all very old, though. They have kids."
Tegan didn't know which kid to pick up first and how she was going to breastfeed in front of a stranger. She felt awkward and shy. She wanted a distraction. Her babies were hungry and she knew it. They were distracted for that moment, but soon they were going to cry. Especially Scarlet…she would throw a tantrum if she wasn't fed.
"So, umm…" she faltered when Stevie looked up at her. "I have to take one of them from you to feed her. You can play with the second one until I finish with the first and then switch." She winked and cursed herself when she remembered Sara's observation of the wink.
"Sure," said Stevie.
When she picked up Scarlet to feed her, she noticed the teenager wasn't looking into her direction anymore. She looked down and played with Rose, who was on her stomach, ready to tour the living room.
"Is it nice?" asked Stevie, eyes still directed towards the floor and her back faced Tegan as she watched Rose crawl around her. "I mean having a family? A lesbian family? Do you think I can ever do it?" Tegan laughed a little.
"Yes, it's nice." Was it, though? She should have asked that question to herself. Was she having the time of her life? She loved Sara and her kids, but did she love marriage? She honestly couldn't tell. "And of course you can do it."
"Mum said you are too young to be married," whispered Stevie. "She thinks it's fascinating that…you're doing this. Having babies and, like, raising them."
"I am young," confirmed Tegan. "Not everybody can do it but I wanted." The circumstances forced her. The fear of Sara slipping away again forced her. She didn't want to live with another lost opportunity.
"I've had a girlfriend before," said Stevie. "She was cute."
"Yeah?" Listened Tegan.
"But then she told me she's into boys when Mike from art class asked her out." Stevie sighed.
"Oh, hun." Tegan felt bad. She had done the opposite to men. "You'll live with people breaking your heart for awhile until you find the one. You're still young."
Stevie stayed for a little while longer until her mother called her, asking her to go back home in order to start on her homework. She was a straight-A student and she loved every subject except English. Tegan filled Sara in on everything when she got home.
Sara told her she called Evelyn to discuss visiting during the Holidays. "I was thinking we leave the eighteenth of December and return before the New Year so we can spend it with Stacy. She'll be alone here. Emy's visiting her parents."
"Oh, shit. I forgot about that." Sara sighed. "Why doesn't she visit her mother?"
"She doesn't want to go back to Vancouver at all. Doesn't wanna be there." Tegan nodded understandably.
"Did she call you today?" Sara nodded. "And? Well, they had sex last night. Makeup sex." Sara giggled when her wife wrinkled her face. "At least they made up."
"True."
Sara asked for sex that night, but Tegan told her she was tired.
"Don't you ever get horny?" Sara shot irritatingly. "I mean, come on. What's wrong?"
"I…" Tegan sighed. "I sometimes get horny in the morning so I take care of it."
"Ahhhh." Sara smirked. "So that's what it is." She switched on the light just to look at her wife. "You really prefer masturbating over me touching you?"
"Umm, no, I get horny during the day. I'm bored, nothing to do, I start touching my cunt, and well…" Did she really say that word so casually in front of her wife? Sara didn't care. Why was she so ashamed of it?
"You need to be punished." Sara smirked but Tegan simply turned around to her side. "I'll cook your punishment, I swear."
"Just sleep. I'll fuck you tomorrow." She had to convince herself to have sex with her wife instead of herself. She had to force herself to do it.
Sara reminded her wife they were going to have sex many times in the morning. "Tonight, Tegan. Promise me."
"Okay," Tegan said. "We'll fuck, little Ralphie."
"Don't call me that." Tegan giggled teasingly over breakfast. "I have needs, okay?"
"I'll do whatever you want today."
"You're topping me today," Sara stated, "with a dildo." She bit on a bagel. "Or I'll remove that Netflix subscription."
"That's your punishment?" Tegan scoffed. "That's sad."
"That's part of it, love," She leaned in to kiss her wife's lips, only to be slapped by her daughter who was seated on her mother's lap. "Ouch, meanie."
It was Scarlet who slapped her. She was pushing her away with a whiny cry. "Look who's jealous."
"Adam's genes," Sara mouthed. "He used to do that if somebody got closer to his mother."
"You did that, too," Tegan remarked. "Technically, your clingy family's genes."
"Shut up." Sara laughed, attempting to steal a kiss again. She was pushed away with a shriek that time. "Wow. Okay. Fine. Have her."
"I'm sorry, baby. Your mummy's a jealous…" Her phone began ringing. She looked at the ID but it was an anonymous number. "Who's calling in the early morning?"
"Well, pick up." Sara took Scarlet who had begun to cry. "Why don't you like me?" She lifted her up and showered her with kisses as Tegan talked on the phone.
Her octave changed and her breaths started to get short and heavy.
"Yeah?...Yes…" She breathed in and out heavily and quickly, looking at Sara in distress.
"I am…her friend…is she…I…Her parents are not here…She has a partner. Did you…did you call her partner?"
Tears began to run down her eyes. Sara's eyes widened, immediately recognizing the existence of a catastrophe. She listened, knowing too well the person talked about was Emy. "No…I was her roommate and…yeah…No, I'm not her partner. Stacy Reader. Yes, yes…" Tegan's phone fell from her hand. She cupped her mouth and cried. It was loud. Agonizing.
"What happened?"
"Emy had a car accident and…she's in a coma?" Tegan asked in confusion. "She's in a coma," she said again, crying breathlessly. "And Stacy doesn't know…because they called me…because I don't even know why. I guess my number is the one she used for contact information in case of an emergency…awhile ago…Oh, my God…"
"Calm down," Sara said as her hand shook while handing a bottle of water to her wife. "Calm down."
Tegan chugged all of it. "I have to go to the hospital to see her."
"Does she even drive?" Sara asked. "We have to tell Stacy…"
"Oh my God…we have to tell Stacy and her parents and I have to deliver the bad news. She's in a coma? A coma…she might not wake up. My friend is in a coma. Oh my God…Sara, what should I do?"
Sara was lost, too. That was not the best news to receive in the morning. The babies and Tegan were crying while her whole body tingled with distress. A state of shock and disbelief wavered around them. Tegan couldn't absorb the news. Her eyes were wide and her mouth mumbled incoherent nonsense. They had to tell Stacy. She was going to lose it.