Mornings were Sara's favorite.
That time of stillness and languor she and her wife spent in bed. The mind swaying between wakefulness and the last bits of a comfortable sleep. The chillness of air she attempted to discard with heavy covers and duvets. The soft rays of the sun seeping through half-closed blinds. Sometimes, it was the mindless journey between a dream she would later on ponder about and between soft breathy sounds coming from beside her. Or it would be the silky touch of skin tickling her exposed legs. She would shift in hopes to feel and take more. Sometimes her eyes opened and closed as sleep and thoughts mingled inside her brain until her alarm begged to be snoozed or stopped.
However, most times it was not the alarm, but one or both of her offspring squeezing themselves between her and her lover, mumbling friendly nonsense to one another or whining to be held by their mothers.
That morning it was the sweet touch on her neck that shook her awake. An arm wrapped around her exposed skin. She shuddered and flinched. That arm was strong, but too soft and small to be her wife's. The skin was that of a baby's; still untouched by life's spots, unstained by experiences, and too smooth to be an adult's. Sara's eyes squinted to take a look at which one of her children held her closely and why she wasn't uttering any sound.
The scene of the small girl made her smile in her almost sleepy state. A thumb between tiny lips and eyes fully closed, Rose held her mother's neck and put herself back to sleep. Sara wrapped her arms around the child and they cuddled together, not caring about how much time left and why Scarlet wasn't around. All Sara could tell was that it was still too early for her to wake up. No light escaped the blinds except that coming from the shy rise of the sun. Rose sought silent protection and Sara provided without any words.
When the alarm finally rang, Scarlet was already on top of her other mother, moving, kneading, and blabbering to herself.
Sara's half opened eyes gazed at the toddler attempting to gain attention from her mother. An arm reached the older twin and pulled her down from behind. "Don't wake your mother up," whispered the other one.
Scarlet's loud whine, though, alerted the sleeping woman but she didn't bother open her eyes. Instead, she listened in as her wife distracted both girls through shushed chatter. It was the night before that made Sara become more considerate; the hours they both spent attempting getting the older woman to orgasm until both of them gave up and surrendered to sleep. Apologies had left Sara's lips before Tegan's brain completely shut down.
She knew both of them would forget about it the moment they woke up. As long as she was getting her orgasms, it didn't really matter that Sara couldn't. It was her own issue and she would deal with it if she wanted.
Indeed, the night before had clouded itself as a half-misted shadow in the back of their brains as they indulged in a savory breakfast Sara cooked. Tegan's moans were loud discovering Sara's new recipes. Her wife was going to therapy and, to Sara, therapy meant a rise in her artistic side. A poem was written daily, art was sketched on empty blank papers and scattered around the house, new recipes were learned, and obnoxious laughter and merriment that Tegan envied and abhorred at the same time. The downside was, surely, lack of sexual appetite. Still the older woman never said no to her lover, never wasted a scheduled sexual intercourse time despite her lack of need. It was the medication, definitely. That's why Tegan was so against it; she hated those medications that numbed her need and killed her sexuality and desire.
It was either no desire or no mental agony. Sara chose the latter.
Her morning routine began anew the way it did daily. With butterfly kisses toward her daughters and a peck on Tegan's lips, she left the house leaving that part of the day to hold tight onto the mystery which Tegan never unfolded.
How was your day?
It was good. Scarlet threw a tantrum and Rose said a new word.
Those were the common answers which she had become accustomed to and bored of.
"Respond already," she mumbled to herself as she dialed up her best friend's number for the third time since the night before. A number of messages were left unanswered after the two tries last night. Tegan had texted Emy, too. Nobody responded. It was unlike their best friends to hide away, but Sara couldn't spare the time to worry about that.
And so it ends,
We who were lovers may be friends.
I have some weeks in which to steel
My heart and teach myself to feel
Only a sober tenderness
Where once was passion's loveliness.
Sara contemplated the words she taught in class and discussed with her students. How love ended always remained an unsolved puzzle that her brain couldn't quite put together. Her love ended when she fell in love with someone new. Katina was evaporated once Jack crawled inside her head. Jack floated away when Tegan's emergence permeated her life. What about Tegan's love? How could it possibly end? It couldn't. It can't. It mustn't.
She breathed in Tegan. She inhaled Tegan.
And so it ends…Other things ended. Sure…the passion sometimes came short. Tegan needed her less. The laughter.
But things also began…the novel intangible sensation she couldn't quite comprehend. It also permeated around Tegan's specter. The urgency of it, the discomfort it caused, God, she wished she could say it or even understand it.
She could only feel it.
And Tegan felt it, too.
In her hours of loneliness and longing, the sensation befriended her around the house. It secretly smoked with her when the children were sleeping. It conversed with Tegan and they both laughed and cried and masturbated and waited for Sara's arrival.
Sometimes, Tegan, though, pushed it away. When she wrote, it sat far away on the cornered couch in their bedroom. She stared at its unwanted presence and sighed.
When Scarlet danced with her butt and Rose sang loudly, the feeling took itself out of the window leaving Tegan to laugh alone…with her children all alone.
Only a sober tenderness.
That was the feeling.
It's what was left and they both held onto it tightly, cherished it, loved it, made out with it, moaned at night to it.
And it kept them from reenacting the poem Sara was teaching at college.
After all…it was just a feeling and feelings were brothers to thoughts.
Unreal unless you make them be.
…
She eyed the phone from the corner of her eyes as it continued displaying her best friend's name on the screen. She closed her eyes, feeling her wet eyelashes on her damp skin. She took a deep breath and opened them again.
Sara still rang and Stacy still ignored.
"When are you going to tell her?" Emy whispered from beside her. She sat with knees bent and hair greasy in a messy bun. Her chest carried disappointment mixed with harbored relief she could not verbalize. Perhaps because she didn't see what the point was in doing that. She couldn't understand it but it was Stacy's body, and she deeply desired it.
Chances of hemorrhage during the egg retrieval process were one in 3000…and her partner was that one. It's because you mess with your own body that you screwed up your ovaries, the doctor scolded. It was unprofessional and mean. Stacy was shocked and Emy cried.
"I don't know," Stacy cried. "I don't want to."
"They're worried. They've been calling for two days."
Stacy knew all that. She wished Emy wouldn't tell her what she already knew. Her physical fatigue disqualified her from voicing her discontent with Emy's sudden outburst whenever their friends called. Her inner turmoil halted her defensive blows whenever her lover attempted talking to her in the past three days.
"It's just that…it's Ella's birthday tomorrow and they're going to be weirded out about it. Tegan texted me about our plans for it so many times."
When Emy huffed, Stacy met her with a similar expel of air. "You know, I'm on shit loads of medication and unstoppable bleeding and all you care about is what they're gonna say…"
"No," shouted Emy. "I care about filling them in because they're worried and you don't even wanna text Sara to just tell her you're tired or out of town…it's like…" She couldn't find the words among the running tears from the older woman.
"Like?" Two blues blanketed by reddened sockets looked through Emy's similar ones.
"Like you want them to know something is wrong but you don't want to tell them…It…it makes no sense." She looked down at her black sweatpants, fiddling with a stray thread she found on her lap. It must have fallen from Ella's ruffled teddy before saying goodbye to her that morning and sending her with her father for the next three days. "It's weird that…that he knows and they don't," she whispered what's on her mind.
"He has to know because he's keeping our daughter with him when I can't walk." The frown appeared on Emy's face. Stacy waited for more comebacks but it seemed that her pale-faced lover had given up. She closed her eyes, feeling the steady thrum of her temples that matched that of her heart. A hand was placed on top of her lower abdomen and soothing rubs were aided, making her suck in the physical and mental pain through squeezing out unwanted tears and soft moans.
"I'll freeze my own eggs for you," Emy whispered from beside her. Her voice was close and calm. "If you also want me to be pregnant for you…I…I will." A loud cry was released upon hearing that. "I'm sorry your doctor was so mean to you." She opened her eyes to find Emy's right on top of hers. "I'm sorry this has happened."
Had she really fucked up her own body because she refused to go to doctors and gave her own person exams or was that the doctor blaming her own mistake and failure on her? She should have gone to Sara's doctor. She should have told Sara she wanted to freeze her eggs.
…
Cheddar cheese. Ham. Frozen wings. Beer. Cucumbers. Lettuce. The whole wheat bread that Tegan liked. Snacks. Diapers. Nipple pads. Body wash for the twins. Tegan's favorite hair mask.
That was the grocery list Tegan had sent and Sara read while waiting for her therapist to let her in.
While seated in front of the middle-aged woman, her mind repeated the list as if it was some recited song that her brain kept playing.
"Do you think those exercises helped?" asked her therapist, eyes small and focused on the slouching woman, a demeanor Sara didn't show the first time she sat in front of her a few weeks before.
"I…" Her mouth felt dry. She opened and closed it, wishing for a bottle of water. "Maybe only me…but not her."
"How can they help her when she's not part of it and doesn't want to be?" Sara had informed her therapist that her partner was reluctant about therapy while she, herself, made the decision of going to therapy based on the reaction she had displayed back home. She was not going to surrender to her monsters and past trauma. Her issues with Tegan were enough; she didn't want more issues with herself.
But it was all too complicated. From that first visit she had learned that her issues were all intermingled. What she and Tegan were going through as a couple was partly her fault, too.
"I don't know," whispered Sara defeatedly. It wasn't news for her that her undealt with trauma of not being able to have child had affected her wife's entire life by subconsciously goading her towards that decision.
"Remember, Sara, this is your own healing journey," the therapist whispered, but it sounded clearly-stated and loud enough in Sara's ears. Perhaps it was the quiet room. Perhaps it was the deep octave of the woman seated opposite to her. "You might…you might find yourself in a different place later on. Mentally and emotionally. When you heal, you distance yourself from the toxic environment that pulls you down."
"I can already feel it," Sara whispered, too. Her voice, however, was timid, masked by her own apprehension, barely audible. "A growing…rift."
"But when you came here, you told me you feel a huge distance between you two." Sara nodded. "You think it's growing?"
"I do," Sara answered assuredly though her brain felt hesitant and guilty. "She's always in her own world…I…I told you, doing her own things, so down all the time. Then there's me…I try to be positive, hyper even sometimes, change the whole setting and mood we're in but she doesn't budge."
"Why don't you listen to her and what she wants?"
"She doesn't tell me," Sara said aloud. "I wish she did." She could feel a tear escaping her eyes. "I can't go a day without feeling like I have caused her to become like that."
"But you've told me she's been a bit cold and distant from the day you met her? That's what attracted you to her?"
It's true. Sara had said that the first she visited. She nodded then sighed.
"Do you want her to talk and be all hyper and positive like you so you could feel less guilty about pushing her to have your children?" Sara didn't answer. She stared at the seated woman with tensed, glistening eyes, tears swimming on the brim of their lids. "Do you want that for your own sake or for her own mental wellbeing?"
"Bo…"
"You don't have to answer me now," the doctor interrupted. "I want you to think about it at home. Why do you want Tegan to escape this mindset she's in? For you or for her? Or is there another answer you can find? Think of it well."
She had two weeks until the next visit to think of an answer. The drive home was full of ways to block the thoughts of such matters that shattered her heart. Happiness was what Sara had always sought: a family she loved; wife and children, a stable job, a good income, and great friends.
Speaking of, she sent a voice message to her best friend.
I'm worried about you. Please respond…Are you and Ella okay?
She thought about stopping by her best friend's apartment, but she had already been late. The space and time were given to her when she confronted Tegan about going to therapy. In fact, and surprisingly enough, Tegan had encouraged it. However, lengthy hours out of the house were always something Sara attempted avoiding in order not to cause her wife to spend more time on her own.
When she walked into her place, it was empty as usual. Rare were the times when the kids and Tegan made a noise. In most cases, the three were all in their bedroom or in the living room. She would hear the television from downstairs sometimes or her kids speaking on her way up the stairs. If not, she would assume they would be napping.
That's what Sara assumed when she climbed up the stairs to an empty living room until her eyes spotted the small feet of one of her children behind the table their smart TV was on. Her gasp alerted the child who jumped in fear upon seeing her mother close to her.
Many cables tangled up in her hands, Scarlet's eyes were wide open with malice mixed with fear and giddiness.
"Bad girl, Rosie," Sara whispered, forcing the little girl to let go of the dangerous wires.
"No, no," objected the girl. "Soosie." Her mother picked her up, staring into her wide green eyes and hidden smirk.
"You're Soosie?" Sara whispered, a hint of embarrassed disappointment blanketed her voice. "Why are you in Rose's clothes and where is Tegan?"
"Pooping." Scarlet pointed toward the corridor that led to their bedroom. Sara just shook her head, ready to rebuke Tegan for letting their child alone, toying with the dangerous wires like that.
The scene that met her eyes, though, stopped her at the doorstep of the bathroom to stare at the beautiful woman she loved so much. Both her eyes and Rose's were wide in utter enchantment while Tegan struggled to ger her newly dyed hair washed against the sink.
Eyes closed and breaths heavy, Tegan laced up her fingers through her shoulder length hair as the water cascaded on her face, chest, and neck. Dark water covered up the basin while some drops made spots on the floor and on Rose's tiny feet as she stared adoringly.
The black tank top she was wearing had ridden low enough to create an enormous amount of cleavage covered by the dark drops of water. The hot pink panties contrasted with everything Tegan had believed in about herself but allured Sara so much she forgot about her rebuke.
She put Scarlet down next to her sister and walked up to her wife to help her.
"Oh, Sara," Tegan said after a deep breath she took out of surprise upon the hand that was placed on her shoulders. "You scared me."
"Sorry," whispered the wife after pecking her forehead. "Let me help you."
"Your clothes," Tegan said, pushing the older woman slightly.
"They're dirty. I sweated a lot in them." Sara was already working on adjusting Tegan's neck and washing her hair for her. "Don't leave Scarlet alone, please. I found her behind the TV table playing with the cables. She told me you're pooping, though." Sara laughed a little.
"Oh, fuck," Tegan exclaimed. "I told her not to move. How did she even…"
"It's fine. It's fine. She's cunning. Lock the door next time." It was an inconvenient position that obliged her to squeeze her wife between the sink and herself; Tegan's thigh met her crotch, awakening a numbed sensation without her will. "Why didn't you just get in the shower? This is so hard."
"I'd have to get them in with me," answered her wife immediately. Tegan must have felt the discomfort. Her hands attempted helping Sara who was too careful not to get her head hit by the faucet. "I didn't think you'd be back too early."
The blood climbed up to Tegan's head. She felt herself getting dizzy bending down like that. That was stupid. She should have just washed her hair with the showerhead.
Sara sat her down on the counter when she finished. She watched as her daughters walked out of the bathroom, plotting God knows what to make her infuriated. Babysitting them had only become more exasperating lately. They moved with abundance and spoke loudly if they didn't fight over silly toys. When quiet—if you could call this quiet—they danced and sang along their favorite animated shows. Their naps weren't as frequent as they had been when they were only babies. Turning two in a couple of months, Tegan felt the weight of the world on her shoulders caused by the two humans she loved the most.
And they were so beautiful. Sometimes she adoringly stared at their jade green eyes and soft brown curls when peaceful silence erased their childhood wickedness. Their red cheeks she devoured with kisses causing their quietude to be disturbed with hearty peals of jovial laughter. Often times she played with their growing hair, giving them hairdos she'd seen on Pinterest or YouTube. She loved making them look pretty and feminine despite hating that for herself.
When walking in the park or the mall, she often noticed strangers staring at the sameness the girls had; their twinness that they had yet to notice and deal with, a twinness she and her wife couldn't notice due to being around them 24/7 despite mistaking them for one another at rare times. They had been reading about twins and how to deal with them, how to give them space, how to create a separate world for each one where their individuality is allowed to shine and prosper. They had been reading about the struggles that twins faced, the same faces, the different human struggles that would accompany them in the future. So far, their children loved one another or that's what Tegan had remarked. They hugged, kissed, and always wanted to be around one another despite Scarlet's slight jealousy and Rose's demand for mothering.
Sara had walked out of the bathroom to lock their bedroom door and lock the kids inside the bedroom and when she returned, Tegan's mental observations halted with her wife's sudden ravishment. Heavy kisses awakened her subdued arousal; she had no time to masturbate that day and Sara had just decided to light up her need.
"Fuck, Sara," she moaned breathlessly while her wife's wet tongue covered her neck and upper chest. Sara's hand messily moved against her cold skin, grabbing a breast to hold and squeezing its twin. Her nipples were squeezed and played with. "The kids," she whispered when her eyes opened realizing one of them had walked inside.
"Forget about them," Sara whispered in her ears. "They won't notice. They think I'm kissing you." Sara had stopped sucking the cleavage that enticed her in order for her children not to be alarmed by her actions. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rose had walked out of the room once again. Taking advantage of that, she snaked her hand inside the soiled underwear. Not wasting anytime, two of her fingers found their way inside the hot, wet hole. "Ohhh, so nice," she found herself mouthing out loud, which planted redness on her cheeks and her wife's entire face. "Your cunt is so tight," she said unabashedly.
"Sara," Tegan whispered, eyes wide when both children came in. "Oh my, God." She took a deep breath and tried to pretend nothing was happening as her wife thrusted in her.
Sara did the same while the kids moved around them. They both paused their movement but Sara's fingers never ceased. Tegan's clit was also tortured by the friction the heel of her wife's palm was causing.
"Oh, Sara, I love you." She wrapped her arms around the older woman and squeezed her eyes shut, enjoying the wave of nirvana that accompanied every thrust until the shake of an orgasm hit her walls, making her moans come unannounced and without her will.
She opened her eyes immediately and placed a hand over her mouth. It had been ages since she last screamed an orgasm, a feeling Sara had missed so much and was smiling from ear to ear upon receiving. Her kids were out of the room, thank God, so she kissed Sara with all the passion she held during that moment of happy absentmindedness.
"You're good?" Sara asked in a soft whisper accompanied by a quick peck.
"Mmmm." Her breaths were still ragged. Her heart still drummed. Her head still buzzed. "Help me get down. I need to shower." She was picked up and put down upon request. Bashful smiles were exchanged between the two as she got herself rid of her underwear and top. "I feel nineteen." Sara laughed. "You surprised me."
"I hope that's good." She nodded. "You liked it?"
"Wasn't that obvious?" A chuckle came out of her lips as she got into the shower. "It must have been a good therapy session."
"Not at all." Yawned Sara while discarding her garments. She paused when Scarlet came inside with Sara's phone. "Someone called?"
Scarlet handed the phone to her mother and began taking off her own clothes.
"Hey…no…no…no," Sara said right away. "Don't take your clothes off. We're not getting in the shower."
Scarlet pointed at the closed shower door and mumbled rapid nonsensical objections followed by a screech that conveyed her demand to be inside with her other mother.
"I'll be out in a sec, baby," Tegan said from inside. "Stay with Sasa mommy."
Bending down to put on Scarlet's grey pajama pants, Sara's hair was taken a hold of with a vicious pull from her daughter. "Ouch, fuck, don't do that."
Scarlet was already crying by then.
"God," Tegan mumbled from behind. "She's an abomination."
Rose walked in to join her sister's havoc. She climbed up on Sara's back out of love and need for her mother to give her attention. Sara wished Tegan would finish her shower already because those two kids were ganging up on her.
"Leave your mom alone," finally uttered Tegan the moment she left the shower. It didn't take her more than a minute before Scarlet's arms wrapped up around her wet legs, restricting her movement as she tried to leave the bathroom. "Scarlet, stop. You're getting your sister's clothes wet."
"Why is she in Rose's pajamas? I thought it was Rose when I first saw her in the living room."
"She insisted I put on Rose's pajamas on her." Tegan removed her towel and grabbed the blow dryer in order to warm up her hair and body. "She then picked up your most humongous red bra and walked around in it." Laughed Tegan when her wife's eyes widened. "Sometimes I wish I could film 'A Day in the Life of Scar' documentary or vlog and send it to you. She's not normal, I swear."
Before Sara could respond, the sound of the blow dryer covered up every other sound in the room. She stared at her daughter's eyes while the latter attempted to tease her twin sister by pinching her cheek. The mother sighed in defeat.
"Emy finally texted," Tegan announced that night while Sara was immersed in her work, eyes glued on her computer's screen behind thick-bordered glasses. Her hair was combed out of her face so she could focus on the midterm she was scheming for her students.
"She did?" She lifted up her head to look at Tegan's body standing by the coffee table, a phone in hand and a glass of water in the other. "What did she say?"
Fiddling with the strings of her grey sweatpants, Tegan's lopsided smile concerned Sara. "Hey. Everything's alright. Don't worry. Will be in touch later," Tegan read aloud. She held up the phone for Sara to look at, and Sara touched her own phone on the coffee table where her feet were resting. No message from Stacy. "Something's wrong." Absentmindedly, Tegan's hand touched the exposed part of her abdomen where her white cropped t-shirt stopped.
"Yeah," whispered her wife. "It's probably Tony." She sighed. "That's why Stacy's not answering. He probably pulled a shit move or something."
There was no other explanation Sara could think of and she couldn't really think of many other explanations when her work and kids competed who would give her a headache more.
Tegan had disappeared into the bedroom. Sara didn't know why. Maybe because it was boring watching her working. But those kids wouldn't shut up. They danced around her legs, lifted them off the table to pass by or passed from underneath. At one point, Rose dug her teeth into Sara's exposed right thigh. She bit where Sara's new TRS tattoo had recently been inked on her upper thigh.
"Now whenever I eat your pussy, I'll see my kids' initials," Tegan told her when she got it the week before.
"Haha…It has your initial, too," Sara scoffed. "I wanted to get it where my scars are, but the artist said it's too dangerous getting a tattoo because the stitches were still very visible. That means they could open up." Tegan's eyes opened widely. She thought about her own stiches and how more recent they were then Sara's. "So I got it here. I don't want it somewhere visible. I'm getting some comments about my tattoos in the faculty. Apparently, it's not too professional having many when you're a Dean." Both women rolled their eyes at the same time.
When Rose bit those tattoos, Sara almost screamed, but she didn't. She pulled her daughter's face away and stared at the fazed face awaiting the rebuke. "We don't bite mommy, Rosie." She shook her head in disappointment. "We don't."
"Rosie naughty," Scarlet worded immediately. She held her mother's other leg, staring at her sister. "No biting. No," she rebuked loudly. Rose's lips almost turned upside down, a signal she was about to burst in tears. Sara put her laptop next to her and picked up the child, immediately showering her in kisses and tickling her. "Meeeeeee," Scarlet demanded.
"Oh, God." Sara's peals of laughter rang in the room as she threw both girls on the couch, tickling and playing with them. Their laughter was a sonorous sound she loved so much. Her heart drummed and her face flushed, she began chasing them around the room as they held hands and ran. "Imma get you. You better run." The girls ran and she followed, filling the house with the loudest sounds of jovial laughter out there.
They ran until they got inside the bedroom Tegan hid in behind her own computer screen. She used the desk Sara had installed so she could work if she felt like doing it in her room. The girls found their mother and sheltered themselves between her legs. A desk, a chair, and Tegan harbored them, but Sara could clearly see their hidden forms.
"What's going on?" Tegan asked with a confused smile.
"We were playing and those girls don't want my tickles so…" Her pause uncovered a mischievous smirk similar to the one her daughter possessed. Eyes glistened and glittered, Tegan could only sense the coming attack when Sara approached her. She got out of her seat and backed away to the bed.
"Holy, shit," screamed Tegan when Sara's body engulfed her and Sara's hands attacked every exposed part of her body. The giggles made the girls scream and jump in laughter. She almost blacked out whenever Sara tickled a part of her. "I'm gonna piss my pants." Yet she still laughed with a reddened face and happy sounds.
Her heart almost stopped when she felt Sara's hands inside her pants, pulling at the thick bush she had long forgotten to tame. Her giggles stopped and her breath hitched when two fingers were pushed in and she was fucked once again with her kids around unable to see nor understand what was going on. Sara's mouth raided her body, kissing the neck and the stomach. Her wet tongue caused whimpers of dead laughter to altercate with the pleasured sounds of bliss. Her core juiced inside, troubling her mind with having to wear a new underwear once again. It only took her a minute and a bite on her left nipple through her covered chest to cum inside Sara's hands.
When Sara pulled out, she rested right next to her. Their kids stared at them from a distance, but she didn't worry because she was sure they hadn't seen a thing and were not cognizant of anything other than her tickling Tegan. Her hand was lifted up to the air, oiled up with Tegan's thick juices which she played with by opening and closing the gap between her index and middle finger.
While attempting to regain her breaths, she watched her wife enjoy the remnants of her fluids out on display before licking the saturation off her fingers. She almost gagged at the concept, but prohibited herself from displaying any type of self-conscious reaction.
"Couldn't help not getting inside your pussy again," Sara whispered. She knew her eyes were on her but she couldn't help herself to face her wife. "Your visible abs in the living room…and how creamy your cunt felt earlier…I couldn't help it."
"Creamy," she mumbled, biting on her lower lip.
"Very," Sara rasped in her ear. "Thicker than usual and warmer."
"Aren't you even turned on by your words? You didn't even cum last night." She finally looked into Sara's face, Sara's sunny eyes, and Sara's flushed complexion. She leaned in to kiss her, tasting the tangy aroma she had made on Sara's lips. She almost gagged again. How could Sara tolerate that. Shit…she needed to take care of her PH.
"Yeah. I'd like to cum," Sara said this and felt a small hand on her thigh once again. "Not with them around though." She giggled, looking up at Rose widely staring at them.
"We should stop doing that in front of them. They're almost two." Tegan sat up. She smiled at her daughters and yawned.
"Yeah." Sara sat up, too. "I just couldn't fight it. They couldn't see a thing. Don't worry." She stood up and declared her need to shower. Connecting the pieces immediately, Tegan was able to tell Sara took care of herself in the shower.
…
"You're okay…you're fine. Stop crying," gently said Emy with a soft laugh and a smile on her face. Her eyes were two red sockets with a bluish tint underneath them. It had been quite the night and a very heart-wrinkling morning until her partner's test results were all out and her new doctor saw her. "Your ovary is all fine, baby," Emy repeated what their doctor had informed them earlier.
She had just tucked Stacy in bed right before the waterworks began to flow from the older woman. "Yeah." Still, Stacy continued crying. "But I can't use my eggs anymore."
"You can use your other ovary, baby." She leaned in to kiss her forehead. "And I can use my two ovaries. I'm not just gonna bleed every month for no reason." That made Stacy laugh through silver tears. "Now I just want you to go easy on yourself because we want that bleeding to stop."
"What if it doesn't?" Stacy speculated loudly; her most fierce fears danced on top of her rational thoughts. "And I'd have to remove it and then my other one?" That made Emy sigh.
Despite her own phobia, she drove her partner to and from the clinic. Her hands echoed against the steering wheel and her heart drummed inside her chest. While doing that, Stacy continued verbalizing her insecurities and the calamities she apprehended happening.
"God," Emy mumbled to herself, rubbing her upper brow and huffing slightly. "Let's not assume the worst please."
…
It was date night for Sara and Tegan. Jeremy and Denise were supposed to babysit. A few weeks before, when they babysat, Sara suggested the babies would stay over since Rose was finally able to sleep through the night without a tantrum that interrupted everyone's slumber. Tegan had dreaded the outcome or leaving her daughters, but eventually consented for the sake of saving her marriage life. A healthy sex life was definitely necessary and she was aware of that. Those nights Sara begged to be touched were almost rare even though she begged to fuck Tegan most nights. Tolerance of this inadequacy had definitely melted some of the bridges between them. The last thing Tegan wanted was being bitchy toward her wife's health issues. She always reminded herself that as long as Sara was having sex with her, things were alright—whether she came or not.
When Sara returned from college, Tegan first hesitated to ask her whether they could spend another night on their own by keeping the twins at Jeremy's place. She had packed all their nightly essentials and prayed to Aphrodite that Rose wouldn't ruin their night or Jeremy's. She knew Sara would say yes to her request. Sara never said no to her. Sara loved her insanely sometimes she felt guilty of this love she found herself lacking toward.
Right before her pink lips rounded in request, Sara broke the news with bags under her eyes and a hollow glance that marked her features. "We're visiting Stacy and Emy, today." Her voice was quiet and soft. She paused and put her briefcase down on the kitchen's floor where Tegan was seated on a chair opposite to the high chairs of her children; just a minute earlier she had been smiling to herself planning their midnight getaway from their ordinary parenthood life.
"Why?" Tegan's brow furrowed upon asking. "But today's…I've been asking about Ella's birthday for the past week and now they wanna answer?"
"Stacy had a punctured ovary while trying to freeze her eggs." That time both women paused in confounded stares at one another, each silently wondering whether the other had known about this news or if Stacy had ever mentioned her need to have another child. As far as both knew, Stacy hated children. Sure, she often felt the baby fever when the twins acted cutely but so did everyone, even Tegan herself secretly. "They didn't want to tell us until they made sure she's keeping that ovary and it's not fully harmed, but Emy called an hour before asking us to come over because the doctor informed her that if her bleeding doesn't stop by tomorrow, they might have to remove it and she's freaking out and crying."
A tear escaped Sara's left eye. Her two girls interrupted their own gibberish bicker and froze in their seats in order to take a look at their crying mother. Tegan stood up to give her wife a hug, whispering consoling words in her ears, pushing away disappointment of canceled plans in order to embody the sense of duty toward her friends.
"That's alright," she whispered while rubbing the back of the older woman. "Don't upset the kids. They're staring at you and they're worried." They both looked at Rose asking to be put down in order to hug her mother and Scarlet with her infamous scowl.
Later on, Tegan dropped the girls at Jeremy's while Sara waited in the car. She kissed both of their cheeks and asked them to behave. Rose was already chanting her favorite man's name loudly as he picked her up and swung her around in his spacious living room while Scarlet was already removing her own shoes, preparing to wreak havoc in the place like she did every time the couple lovingly volunteered to babysit. Tegan still didn't understand why they were so adoring to such an idea when they, themselves, admitted that those children were satanic when united to create chaos.
Sara had previously told her that they definitely considered their children a way to practice parenting, suggesting that they may start trying soon. Tegan spent all night thinking about Jeremy becoming a father. At one point when she used to sleep with him, she imagined them having a family together because he often stated he wanted kids when he grew up. When she used to think of that, she would feel unease and discomfort. However, when she imagined it that night, she smiled to herself at the prospect of not being the only child with children.
Tegan still considered herself a teenager. She couldn't see herself past nineteen, and Sara definitely treated her as such.
"Scarlet, please, please, please, don't make Jeremy and Denise hate us," Tegan begged distressingly the moment her child began running barefoot with wild screeching laughter. "Oh, God, why are they so embarrassing?"
Denise was laughing with Scarlet's tiny Converse shoes in her hands. "It's fine. Let her run."
Jeremy took a hold of the running child with one hand and lifted her up as his other hand lifted up her twin sister. Tegan's eyes widened and her lips opened in fear the man would drop them. "Jeremy, put them down." Despite the mother's drumming chest, she smiled when her girls giggled and in harmony called Jemy…Jemy…Down.
Once he put them down, the girls walked back to where their mother stood next to the door, both having their energies calmed by the man who stood across the room. Tegan knelt down in front of them to kiss them goodbyes and ask them one more time to behave.
"Please call me if anything happens. We're at Stacy's, okay?" Jeremy nodded. Emy had already called him to vent that morning. "If Rose has one of her fits at night, give us a call," she whispered. She didn't see the point of having the girls sleepover now that that she and Sara weren't going to spend their nights together, but Sara insisted they should stay over at Stacy's.
Sara kissed her best friend's brow the moment she came inside the heated up living room. "How are you?" she whispered while her eyes scanned the blue ones that glistened tears right in front of her. "Why didn't you tell me?" She knelt down in front of the couch Stacy was lying on, a fuzzy blanket covered the feverish body and heavy pillows supported her neck.
"I didn't want to explain," she mumbled. Her eyes spotted Tegan staring at her from a distance. The younger woman gave her half a smile and gently greeted. Sara was already seated on the carpeted floor right beside the couch, rubbing her covered arm and squeezing. "I was scared," she added, swallowing more tears. "But then Emy insisted when I just couldn't stop overthinking."
"I didn't know you wanted more kids," Sara said. She interlaced their fingers together. At that moment, she wished she could kiss her best friend's lips. It wasn't romantic; just a gesture they both knew too well and sought for comfort.
Of course, she didn't.
"I've been thinking about it for a while," Stacy said.
Tegan took a seat beside her wife on the floor. She sat cross legged and stared at the exhausted woman with two big wide eyes. She looked like those bewildered kids. Sometimes her children held such a stare, Stacy recalled. They would stare at you for long minutes and just stare and stare until you made sure they were breathing and functioning. Her face radiated youth and innocence. Her newly-dyed dark hair contrasted with her pale skin and pink lips. Her partner showed much more maturity compared to Tegan—both looks and actions wise.
"I didn't want to regret not, you know, having a sibling for Ella one day and I am getting older so I talked about it to Emy." Emy then joined the two women on the floor. She looked down at her lap, recalling a conversation they both knew too well. "I told her I wanted to freeze my eggs just in case I…you know would want to have more kids one day." She took a deep breath, watching Sara's eyes study Emy's features. "I asked her if she was okay with that, and…and she said she was…so I went to the doctor to get a test…all…all was fine." Stacy's tears increased then. Her words halted at the emergence of a hiccupping cry. "The day of the retrieval, my doctor accidentally punctured my ovary…it's because I…I had been giving exams to myself, she said…and I fucked up my entire bod…" Her words were interrupted by cries and shame.
"That's," Sara attempted to speak, but stopped herself instead, weighing the words on her lips before uttering them. "How would you hurt your ovaries by examining your own self?"
"She meant that she didn't get checkups regularly and depended on herself, ended up overlooking an issue she had been facing," Emy explained. "Her doctor kinda warned her when she first examined her…told us that we might not succeed, that her left ovary was hanging lower than it should be, but Stacy decided to proceed with the fertility drugs on her own because she wanted to produce more eggs and freeze them…she kinda over stimulated her ovary and…yeah…" Sara nodded once Emy shrugged, not finding a point of continuing the story now that Sara nodded her way toward knowledge.
"You'll be alright," whispered the friend. She leaned in for another kiss on the sweaty brow, removing damp strands from the wet face.
"I'm just really sad," Stacy uttered with one loud sob that muted her own words. She wiped her eyes but her attempts were all futile. "I…I…" She hiccupped.
"Just cry it out," whispered her best friend while her partner frowned. "Are you sad that you might not have biological children anymore or just sad because you're…"
"I'm just disappointed with myself and my body," interrupted Stacy. Her hiccups were long and frequent. "I haven't ever known how you felt and I feel ungrateful standing on the verge of it."
Tegan's ears perked up at Stacy's statement. She and her wife exchanged a quick glance that Sara avoided right away. "Yeah," she could only whisper, "It sucks; I know."
They all listened to Stacy cry and curse her luck until the steaming ramen Sara had ordered arrived. Stacy's fever was malicious, causing her to shake and shiver while her partner fed her the hot soup that warmed her soul and body.
"Why is she so feverish?" Tegan questioned, still staring in wonder. Her words had been few since they arrived and her actions had been wary.
"I don't know," mumbled Sara, whose worries were standing sentinel against all sensical thoughts. "I hope she doesn't have any infection or anything."
"It's the medicine, I think," Emy speculated, eyes shifting to the matching ones her partner owned, hoping for a confirmation because they were all aware Stacy knew more than they all did.
Still, Stacy had no response for them save that of silent tears and clanking teeth.
"When they told me I needed to remove my womb and ovaries, there was a slight chance of removing my breasts, too," Sara said once silence prevailed in the suffocating room. Heat had filled it up, causing Sara's hot flashes to emerge and disturb her entire day. "I remember almost losing it," she paused when the corner of her eyes met her wife's confounded looks. She turned around and gave the younger woman half a hearty smile. "As much as removing my internal female parts was…and still is…hurtful, as much as it is less damaging to me than removing my external parts…my femininity. That's how I…how I perceived it; that they wanted to get rid of the remnants of my femininity."
Stacy's tears had halted by then. She stared at her friend's rosy lips as they moved dryly, narrating a story she knew well.
"Tegan's mom told me about how…" She took a deep breath, looked at her wife's calm features, then back at awaiting Stacy. "…how she almost had her breasts removed, too…uh…a few years ago." She took her wife's hand in hers and squeezed. "She said she didn't care as long as they kept her ovaries and uterus…which seemed strange to me because she had hit menopause by then; what would she need them for?" Tegan chuckled at Sara's rhetorical question. "It's just so baffling to me how we feel as if we're only human or women with such parts, you know…how we can't accept ourselves without them. It kills me that I am like you, but I know that you're like me and having no ovary is much better than having no breasts, right?"
"Maybe," answered Stacy. "It's not about femininity or masculinity or womanhood as much as…" She closed her eyes for a second; Sara could tell the wave of pain had hit her body with her brows furrowed and her breath hitched. "I'm just not ready for this, I guess…that's about it." It was about womanhood, Sara told herself and Tegan agreed, too, Sara could tell through that side scoffing smile.
Sara took Tegan's body and enclosed her before allowing her head to rest on her lap as they each sat on the floor.
"I told her I could do it for her…freeze my eggs, I mean. Get pregnant for her," Emy remarked, making Tegan widen her eyes at her. Emy looked down at her best friend and shrugged. "It doesn't have to be now, I mean. I told her this, but it's not about the babies…it's about her feeling like she had betrayed her own body." Those last words restarted Stacy's tears.
"That's how I feel about having children," Tegan said, making everyone stare at her, even crying Stacy. She didn't bother sit up. Her frown matched Sara's as they stared at one another upside down. "I feel like I have betrayed my body and I can't get it back to the way it was before."
Tegan hadn't ever shared those thoughts with anybody despite people sensing and reading them on her face and actions. Uttering them, though, was different.
Sara was stung. "You regret it?" she asked quietly.
"I don't," came Tegan's response. "I love them too much to regret it, but I don't love my body. In fact, I hate it."
Sara knew that, but hearing it made her feel responsible. Why would someone like Tegan hate the body she cherished and adored so much?
"I love your body," she whispered. "Every inch of it."
"That doesn't mean anything when I don't love it myself."
Tegan was right; it meant nothing.
The woman finally sat up. She sighed and looked down at her chest. "You see those?" She held both breasts in her own hands while her friends and wife gazed at her wrinkled black shirt in puzzled anticipation. "While you two were moaning about the loss of them, I was praying inside I could get rid of them." She took a deep breath. "I hate them so much."
The silence was too loud. Sara looked down at her fidgeting hands, unable to let Tegan know that if she had them cut off, she wouldn't be able to sleep with her anymore…perhaps.
"You want a mastectomy?" Stacy wondered aloud. "Is it dysmorphia or…"
"No. I want them small…like…Emy's…like yours…normal. I don't want people looking at them. I don't want one boob to be bigger because fucking Scarlet won't leave it and I can't force myself to let her go. I wanna wear a blouse without looking like I am about to film a porno with the buttons almost popping. I want to wear a turtleneck without feeling like they will sag all the way down to my bellybutton. I want to lie down without having back pain or feeling sore 24/7 because of them. I want my teenage body…the small one."
"Oh, babe," Sara's whisper caught Tegan off guard. She thought her wife would judge her…not hold her the way she immediately did. Tegan's cries rushed inside her eyes and escaped onto Sara's arms. "I'm so sorry," she whispered post a kiss on her temple.
"Sometimes I don't understand why femininity and womanhood have to do with having breasts or a vagina or…even a uterus," Emy commented. "I've never thought of it like that. I've never understood that…my femininity and womanhood, I mean."
"You've never considered yourself a woman," remarked Tegan. "And I never did, too. We were just…I remember when Dr. Foyer discussed it in Feminist Theory class and we felt just left out of the whole…conversation."
Sara's speculative eyes and Stacy's appraising look caused Tegan to shift in her own seat on the floor. "We've considered ourselves as children, I guess," Emy whispered. "I don't consider myself that anymore. I know I am a woman…I don't hate my feminine parts, but…"
"But?" Tegan wondered loudly while Stacy furrowed her brows.
"I don't think I'll cry if I had one ovary or one boob bigger than the other but then again…I'm not in your shoes, so I don't know how you all feel." She shrugged and took one last glance at Sara's intense gaze at her before averting her own gaze back at the woman on the couch.
Stacy's eyes were on Tegan's chest, focused there as the quiet took over hosting the guests for that moment.
Sara stood up, announcing she would get a drink. When she asked if anybody wanted one, Tegan and Emy simultaneously begged her for a glass. She called for Emy to help, leaving Stacy with Tegan in one quiet staring contest.
Once Stacy held her cup of water and Tegan took a sip of her scotch, the latter called, "Tegan?"
"Hmm?" She took another sip.
"Would a breast reduction make you feel happier?"
Stacy's question echoed in the silent room. Sara put her glass down on the coffee table and studied the twitches on Tegan's face as she reflected on Stacy's question.
It was a matter of time, Sara knew it. Tegan had always longed for that surgery and it was just a matter of time until she asked for it, making Sara's devastation climb up her lungs, almost choking her.
"I…I don't…" Tegan sighed. "I'm not sure, really…I…" Perhaps Sara's gaze wouldn't allow her to speak; perhaps Sara's presence caused that.
Well, Sara wasn't going to leave. Her wife was finally talking and she wanted to stay and listen.
"It was an option," Sara interjected when Tegan's words came to a halt. "Sonia told me…when you were younger."
"That's right."
Stacy was rubbing her lower abdomen, shifting in pain and discomfort while Emy adjusted the pillow behind her back. Everybody waited for Tegan to speak.
"It was an option when I turned eighteen. I had wanted it before, but…I dismissed it. I mean, I thought nobody would ever love how huge my breasts were back then and Sara did, so…but then I lost weight and they shrank…I became pregnant and…" She sighed deeply. "Here we are."
"Sara's breasts were bigger than yours," Stacy commented. "She hated them, too."
"I did," Sara confirmed.
"I know." Sara had told her that before, but that wasn't about Sara…it was about her. "I worry that if I get a reduction, I might regret it…it would affect ummm…our sex life, and…" She blushed deeply and Sara wasn't sure why; they had talked about sex plenty of times in front of their friends. "I'm scared that if I want to get pregnant again in the future, it wouldn't let me breastfeed…" She stopped herself when Sara's face turned beet red and her brows arched. Her small hazels were big Os and her lips slightly parted.
"You want more children?" Sara finally asked, high in timbre and full of stutters.
"No…I mean…," Sighed Tegan. "Maybe in the future we'd want more…I am still young, you know…I'm saying maybe."
Everyone in that room knew that maybe meant a yes, she wanted more children. To Emy, it wasn't surprising; Tegan worshipped her own children and only talked about them when they hung out. To Stacy, it was surprising considering the depression she had been dealing with since birth. However, to Sara, it was almost catastrophic in every sense possible because it really meant that Tegan was either losing it or that she really hadn't coerced her into having those babies.
Perhaps the blame would be lifted off.
"You know, Tegan, some exercise in that area and Pilates can make a huge difference to their shape and size," finally uttered Stacy. She was ready to get out of the couch, uneasiness shriveling her features. "Your choice of bras can also make a difference."
"Yeah…I suppose."
Sara's appraising looks were impeded by Stacy's wince as she stood up, declaring she needed to use the bathroom. "I'll help you," she offered, standing up quickly despite Emy's obvious support.
"No, no, no," Stacy put a hand against Sara's chest, pushing her away. "I just need to pee and check on the flow. I can do it on my own; I just need Emy around in case I get dizzy because I'm on lots of meds. You stay here."
Sara sat down again, biting her lower lip at her wife's zoned out face. She wished Tegan opened up about her feelings to her the same way she did around their friends, but then again those were all feelings she had been familiar with. And even if Tegan didn't say them, Sara navigated her concealed fears like hidden traps without needing a map to guide her.
Tegan held the phone close to her ears and Sara only realized she was checking on the kids when she put the call on speaker and Jeremy's laughter greeted them.
"You have the weirdest children ever," he said with jovial laughter.
"Oh, God, what did they do?" Tegan's embarrassed inquiry was accompanied by Sara's soft groan, both speculating what tumult their children must have caused.
"Well…they simply rearranged our entire bedroom." Sara's groan was loud this time with tsks and curses while Tegan sighed loudly. "It was so funny. I filmed it. Rose demanded she should clean the entire place with one of Denise's shirts and Scarlet just arranged our shoe closet according to color."
"I'm so sorry, Jeremy," Tegan finally said. "They really have this weird organization thing that they learned from Sara." Sara side-eyed her, allowing for a giggle to escape. "She cleans 24/7, and they see her and do the same."
"And they like putting things that have the same color together," Sara added.
"Sara taught Scarlet to do that. Rose still can't comprehend it."
"It's honestly adorable," said the friend then paused. "I would have let you talk to them but I'm staying out in the living room and they're sleeping with Denise in our bedroom."
"I just don't understand why you like doing this when we're fucking up your whole sleeping arrangement," Tegan wondered loudly, a sinister and a more prying octave covered up her question. Sara wasn't sure if Jeremy picked up the hidden meaning behind her question, but she certainly did.
Jeremy didn't answer immediately. He just laughed, which assured Sara that the man was smarter than she had thought him to be. "It's just fun sometimes…to see how Denise and I would behave if we ever had a kid around."
Though Sara wanted to tell him it was not fun and games 24/7, she didn't want to interrupt Tegan's worried inquiry about Rose's ability to sleep. "If Rose wakes up and causes a scene, please give us a call," Tegan said.
"She's all good," he quickly responded. "But Scarlet kind of…," he hesitated and when the couple hummed, he continued, "She kind of caused a scene about wanting…umm…you know…"
"Boob milk," Tegan whispered shamefacedly. In that instant, Emy called for them to get to the bedroom. Sara stood up right away, but Tegan, in an attempt to justify her guilt to her best friend, continued, "I breastfed her before I dropped her off. The milk I put in their bags is pumped. Really, it's impossible to wean her. I'm so sorry…I only breastfeed her before sleep so…"
Sara put a hand on top of Tegan's shoulder, feeling the knife sliding through her chest watching her wife near panic over something she couldn't mentally control at that point. "Jeremy, we have to go. Please take care and thank you so much for doing this." The moment he said his goodbye, Sara pressed the end button on Tegan's cell phone and gave her a hand to hold so she could help her up. "Don't apologize about this please," she said to her wife. "Don't make it harder on you. He wasn't judging; he was only telling you." Though Tegan nodded, tears welled up in her eyes. "It'll pass. You'll eventually know how to wean her."
Despite her reassurances, Sara's words weren't clicking in her head. She lied. She breastfed Scarlet twice. Scarlet would sit up, play with her mother's hair, watch whatever was going on, but she would be latched onto her nipple and Tegan would watch Sara's eyes on her, judging, silently criticizing, and tolerating.
They walked up to their friends' bedroom where Stacy cuddled up to her own duvet and shivered in vibrant distress. "Everything's okay?" Sara asked Emy, who was putting on a blanket on top of the duvet to cover up the shaking figure.
"Yeah. She's cold," answered Emy mechanically. "Umm…I'll get her the heating pad. You guys stay here."
Sara was already in her white socks, so she didn't waste a chance getting herself on the mattress beside her best friend. She put a hand on Stacy's arm to steady the shaking and felt her temperature with her other hand. "Is everything alright?" she whispered in Stacy's ears.
"Mmm," answered Stacy. "Just tired."
Emy came in and helped her partner place the heating pad on her pelvis. Sara remained in close proximity the entire time while Tegan watched from the corner of the room. She felt too embarrassed and awkward to sit on Stacy's bed though Stacy had done that millions of times on her own bed.
"I'll cuddle up with you, Stace face," Sara announced sweetly. She unbuttoned her army green shirt, exposing muscular tattooed arms with faint hairs standing due to the breeze that hit the woman's body. Her white T-shirt uncovered a thin black bra underneath.
Emy picked up the shirt and put it aside, watching Sara wrap her entire body around her girlfriend. Her eyes met Tegan's and they both understood the bond they both lacked between them yet couldn't verbalize their objection toward.
"When she got her first period, she was like fourteen…"
"Thirteen," corrected Stacy with a mumble. "Summer after grade eight, before I turned fourteen."
"That's too late," Emy remarked.
"Yeah…I was a later bloomer," Stacy said with a chuckle.
"I got mine during that time, too," Tegan said.
"Yeah," Sara whispered. "Anyway, when she did, she had the worst cramps on earth. I visited and she was lying on the floor crying." The two friends laughed as memories whirled in their brains. "So I made her lie down and cuddled up with her. It always made her feel better; I know the trick."
Stacy rolled her eyes at her best friend's corny words. She looked up toward Tegan, and gestured for her to sit beside Emy on the mattress. "Your wife is a liar," she said. "She used to be the one screaming and crying because of her cramps and we'd cuddle up to her to make her feel better. It was just that time she cuddled up to me." Sara pinched her best friend's arm. "Ouch, bitch." Stacy's laughter was accompanied by tears. Her state of mind was jumbled, but she allowed for her friends to make her feel better.
Tegan sat on the mattress after removing her shirt as well. She was in a tight black tank top that projected the physical insecurity she had talked about earlier. Next to her sat Emy, who was very close to Sara's body that had cuddled up to Stacy. They all put their heads on top of the pillows, without a care in the world and no kids to worry about.
Her head lay on her best friend's shoulder, she felt the pain in her knees and hips slowly dissipate. She closed her eyes to the sound of the heart nearby. She had only felt the tears streaming down her face when she opened up her eyes to take a look at the faces beside her.
Perhaps it was Sara's soft chatter that had awakened her miseries, or perhaps those were Sara's pains mixed with hers as the older woman narrated her own fears out loud and shared her own insecurities. They had carried the conversation from the living room and Sara felt the need to talk about what troubled her the most.
Tegan hates her breasts, you hate how your shoulders are broad and masculine, I…I hate my vagina; I despise it. It makes me feel so small…lacking. I never get wet anymore. Only occasionally. Tegan thinks I don't care about her or our sex life or that I am not turned on by her, but I really am. I am always turned on, I'm just not wet…and I can't keep on changing hormone replacement pills because it affects my hormonal balance, my moods, and my blood sugar. I feel cheated by my body, betrayed…it's so…I feel how ugly it is…so tender and dry and even when I try to…fuck it myself, I am always hurt…I just wish I could make Tegan feel better about it…I know she understands and doesn't pressure, but I can't help but feel like she just tolerates it…it's what she has to do, but what if she doesn't anymore?
"Tegan loves you," Stacy said aloud when Tegan's teary eyes were on her.
"Yeah…I tolerate it, but…" Tegan sighed. Her deep breath hitched when Sara's glassy eyes cut through the barrier that was her best friend and shot venom into her chest. "But it's because I love you, you know. I really…yeah, I do wonder…I did wonder, but I never knew it was like that for you because you never really spoke about it…" She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She knew her best friend wished she would get up from the middle, but she wanted her to be the wall that separated their separation. "You go to therapy and you let it out, which is honestly amazing that you can do that…and I understand that I am shitty when it comes to communication, too…but…I…I don't know, I always want you to talk to me."
"You gotta talk to her, too," said Stacy, or maybe ordered with her deep raspy voice. "It's only fair."
"I try…I really try, but I feel…I always feel like I'm a child…and, in fact, I feel like my love…this love that I have for her…she tolerates it. I feel the way she feels about me. I know she loves me so much, but does she love me the same way she did when we first met?"
"I love you more," Sara said right away. "How do you even not see how much I am madly in love with you? What do I have to do to make you feel loved and wanted and cherished, Tegan?" Sara's tears were a river and her voice was almost gone. Stacy's tears ran again and Emy's face reddened while her body quivered. "I hate myself for making you feel the way you feel...as if I have…kidnapped you or, I don't know, molested you. I feel like a fucking cunt, a pedophile, a cougar…I always feel like I have used you and I can't get over it, but I just loved you. I really just loved you and I love you so much." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
How did they get there? How did they manage to open up wounds in their best friends' house when their friend was bedridden? They made it about them, but maybe that was for the best. Maybe those words needed to be said and they wouldn't have said them if they were home.
"But I've always told you that it wasn't you who chased me? You might have tried, but it was me…I am the one who wanted you to do it…I know…I know you think what you did was fucked up, but are we going to whine about this forever? Do you think I'm unhappy because I'm your wife or the mother of your kids? God, who put those ideas in your head?"
"Everyone," exclaimed Sara, now looking at the two women beside her with fierce fires. "Even your best friend."
She had to say it, to finally let it out…to kill the elephant in the room.
"Sara," Stacy whispered, putting a hand on her goosebumped arm. "Not now, please."
"Then when?" She sniffled and looked into Emy's eyes. "You know how fucked up that was? How much it hurt? How shitty of you to do?"
"I was…" Emy couldn't even speak with Sara's sharp tongue right at her face. She cried, looking at her partner to save her. "I was young and jealous…I am…"
"You could have told her at least…told her after. You could have just admitted it when we came back," Sara said, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'm not mad at you." She sniffled again. "I don't hate you, Emily. I am just so hurt at the fact everyone thought of me this way, and I am pretty sure her mother…"
"Sara, just stop," Tegan said. "I don't fucking care what people think of you." She was shouting by then. The wives looked at one another with crying Emy in the middle, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. "I only care about my feelings…my love…the love that you tolerate because it isn't the love you want…because it isn't the same love you give me…but I love everything about you." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Just stop it and calm down."
"I'm sorry," Sara whispered. She put her head on the pillow once again.
"I'm sorry, too," Emy apologized. She only glanced at her so slightly before receiving a smile from her partner.
"I'm sorry, too," Tegan joined,
"I'm not sorry to any of you," Stacy said. "You gave me a headache," she whined. "You just need to realize that tolerating someone doesn't mean you don't love them. We all just have our own shit we're dealing with."
Nobody answered her. The three women frowned in their places, heads full of thoughts that they knew they needed to grapple with later on.
"I don't want someone to tell me what they hate about their body the most; I want them to tell me what they love about my body the most," continued Stacy. Though the three women were silent for a second, they burst in tearful laughter right after. "I'm serious. Tell me what you love about my body the most, Emy."
"Your ass," Emy and Sara said simultaneously. It increased the laughter in the room.
"Very basic," Stacy said. "What about you, Tegan?"
"Ha." Tegan rolled her eyes. "My wife's in the room and she would…"
"She literally just said my ass."
"Yeah, well, Tegan's not allowed to…" When Tegan's glare met hers, Sara smirked and cut herself off.
"Your ass's fine, Stacy," Tegan finally said. As a matter of fact, she didn't know. She had never looked at Stacy that way. It weirded her out to think of the woman that way. "You have beautiful eyes, though. And your boobs…" Sara cleared her throat, but Tegan continued, "are nice."
"Yours, too," Stacy said. "Emy's favorite body part is definitely her face and thighs. I just love getting between them."
"Please don't force us to say what's our favorite body part, too; she was my student," Sara said.
"No." Stacy chuckled. "But I can say that my favorite body part of yours is definitely your tits and so is my favorite body part of your wife's."
"Of course," mumbled Sara, rolling her eyes. "My favorite body part of Tegan is…"
"My boobs, we know it, Sara." Tegan sighed, but Sara shrugged. "Even when they're two different sizes? You're strange."
"Yeah, I literally don't care," Sara said, not finding the appeal to return to the previous conversation. "Do you have a favorite body part of mine other than my tits, too?"
Tegan thought a little bit and when she smiled, the three women in the room had their faces colored by the knowledge of Tegan's upcoming response. "Your pussy's cute," she finally said, softly, and quietly.
Perhaps it was an attempt at making her wife less insecure about that bodily part, but every woman in the room knew that was what Tegan loved the most about Sara. She had told Emy before; she had told Stacy before. She had shown Sara that before.
"This shouldn't get R rated when we're all on the same bed and I am in terrible pain," Stacy finally broke the awkward silence. "But I love your unique contribution that we're all aware of, Tegan."
"Fuck off," Tegan laughed.
When it was time to go to bed, the visiting couple ended up in the guest bedroom. Unexpectedly, their mouths met, their lips locked, and their tongues tangled up with one another until sleep and languor took over their bodies.
Mornings were Sara's favorite, but nights like those in which catharsis had been met were Sara's absolute need to feel her body at ease.