Tegan sat on the clinic's bed, anxiously waiting for her doctor to bombard her with the news she feared. Her legs swayed back and forth while she took deep and calming breaths like her therapist had told her. She pressed on her phone's screen to check the time: 10:13 AM. The kids were in kindergarten and Sara was at work.
Dr. Wilson entered the room again with Tegan's results in her hand. She sat down on the chair facing Tegan and smiled at her. Tegan immediately knew what type of smile that was. She had been witnessing it since a month before when she decided to get her checkups on her own due to the strange behavior her body continuously showed. Every appointment birthed a new issue and every issue troubled her more, disabling her hope of recovery.
"You have to get the surgery," said Dr. Wilson. Tegan just nodded, pressing her lips together. "Very soon." Tegan nodded again. "You can cry."
But she was so sick of crying. She cried every day. She cried when her wife and children left. She cried in front of Sara. She cried in the bathroom. She cried while taking walks around the neighborhood as both Dr. Wilson and her therapist had suggested.
"Tegan, I need to direct you to a cardiologist. My job stops here."
Tegan wiped her falling tears and nodded with a sniffle. "My father is."
"Is he?"
"A heart surgeon."
"But he's not here, right?"
"No." Tegan cleared her throat. "In San Diego." Silence filled up the white room as both women stared into each other's eyes; Tegan waited for some sort of hope that what Dr. Wilson had suggested was just a joke, but the doctor only waited for Tegan to comprehend her present medical situation.
"You should tell Sara," finally said the doctor. It was Tegan's request that Sara wouldn't be informed and Dr. Wilson was professional enough to keep her request.
"Why is this happening to me?" Tegan found herself asking with a sob. "Everything in my body is wrong."
The first time she got a checkup was for her right breast after the incident. She and Sara were both informed that healing might not be possible. She kept getting frequent exams in hopes she would be able to regain the sensation there, but the infection had damaged her nerves and her breast needed reduction due to its misshape compared to the other one. Dr. Wilson gave her a few exercises she could try at home in order to reduce its size and get it to look the same as the left one, but when nothing worked, she was honest with Tegan that a little surgery might be needed. Tegan didn't have it in her to inform Sara because she knew the financial situation Sara was suffering with while paying mortgage, paying the taxes, and getting the girls into one of the finest kindergartens in town—a place that Tegan, herself, chose for her kids.
While getting one of her regular checkups a month before, Dr. Wilson informed her she had three cysts in her left ovary which explained why she hadn't had a proper period since May. She thought the heavy doses of cortisone and antibiotics she took were the reason. Dr. Wilson got her on the pill in order to get her rid of the cysts, which made her dizzy, irritated, and increased the troublesome palpitations and shortness of breath. When she visited two weeks after to check, it turned out that her heart problem had deteriorated, showing signs of severe palpitations, and an increased narrowing in the aorta which restricted the proper blood flow to her body. Tests were done and the results came out as a threat to Tegan's health and Tegan's life. That's when Tegan's hope of going back to work was savagely murdered because she was supposed to stay out of stress until they figured out whether she needed a surgery or not.
And there she was sitting on the same bed she received the most horrible news about her body week after the other with the news that a surgery she had been postponing was urgent and a determining factor to her survival. What would she say to Sara? She had been hiding all that for months? She lashed out at her because she couldn't even tell her the truth? Or she would tell her that her therapist advised her to leave and be on her own, that her therapist exposed to her Sara's subconscious manipulation and mind games.
"I've told you this before, Tegan, depression can really get to one's body and completely annihilate it."
Tegan chuckled. "This is a birth defect. Plus, I'm going to therapy." She took a deep breath. "And you know what I am told? That I need to…"
"Tegan," Dr. Wilson interrupted. "What you and your therapist discuss is very personal to you and private. I told you to go to therapy because it was very clear to me your body was not responding to medication and the chemicals in your brain were the cause of that, but what happens in there is your own journey and your own work." She stood up from her seat. "I'm going to refer you to a good cardiologist that I think you should see very soon. I had already sent him your file in order to know if you needed a surgery or not. Please don't take too much time before getting his opinion."
"Okay," whispered Tegan, an idea already crystalized in her brain.
It was first a tiny droplet sitting in the back of her head. Her mother's words from the previous summer had never left her brain. She thought about them daily. She knew that what her mother had said about her wife was true and the reason she left the U.S. unannounced was because she did not want to agree and make it reality. She was aware Sara knew what her mother had said without her having to explain it and that's why Sara was trying to change, to be patient, to be nice to her. But when Sara went back to work that year, her former persona was also restored and Tegan was pushed to be someone's mistress, the quest she had sought for and finally received so she wanted nothing to do with, the burden that sat at home and had to be taken care of, the woman that took care of the babies she craved to have so much, and the sex that Sara only sought once her hormones acted her age.
That's why Tegan stopped. She stopped talking, she stopped interacting, and she stopped giving Sara what she expected to have daily. She cooked only so that she and her children could eat, but she stopped cleaning the place unless she had to because Sara had decided to stop doing that, too. She took care of her kids but didn't put much effort the way she used to. She couldn't leave her kids unattained when she loved them the most and couldn't fathom turning the expanding thought in her head into reality.
She also deprived Sara of sex. It wasn't a recent decision she had made, but it had been going on for over a year when she decided to seek her own pleasure herself. It wasn't intentional at first, never was a punishment; it was merely more comfortable for her when she had been dealing with incontinence until it turned into a habitual routine in her life that when Sara was at work and the kids napped, she masturbated and cried. When it was summer or winter break, though, she couldn't do that so she sought Sara's pleasure.
However, months before the fall of their relationship, Sara did her best to rekindle their flame by scheduling their entire life. Tegan couldn't deny that it had saved their relationship and temporarily removed the thoughts of running away off her brain, but Sara restored them again when she yelled at her that night when she sought Sara for comfort due to her increasing fatigue and insomnia.
Tegan's heart broke that night, feeling the burden she had felt before. When she told her therapist that, the woman reminded her of the previous questions she had once asked when Tegan told her she and Sara were about to be wed.
Tegan's memories and thoughts played like a broken record player stuck on repeat while she walked outside in the chilly breeze of September's morning. She sat on a bench in the park watching the mothers with their babies and toddlers, recalling the days not so long before when she used to be one of them. She reached for the pack of cigarettes she had been secretly stashing in her coat's pocket, but the moment her hand clutched it was the same instant it released it. She pulled an empty hand out of her pocket as Dr. Wilson's warnings played in her brain.
She didn't want to die.
She didn't want to abandon her kids and leave.
But, God, she truly hated being Sara's wife, Sara's trophy for beating cancer, Sara's reached goal.
"Did you want to have kids before Sara?"
"If it weren't for Sara coming back, do you think you would be a mother right now?"
"If Sara hadn't asked for kids, do you think you would be a mother right now?"
"Do you think you would be happier if your kids weren't born?"
"Do you think you would be happier if you were a single mother?"
"Do you think Sara would be happier if you were just a surrogate for her without you being in her life?"
"Do you think Sara loves you unconditionally or she loves the fact you're a younger and fertile image of herself?"
"Do you think Sara would get what she wanted by coercing you to do what you do not want?"
"Do you think Sara has harassed you and, perhaps, sexually assaulted you because she perceived in you a woman ready to offer her womb to her?"
"Do you love Sara unconditionally?"
"If you love Sara, are you willing to continue with this same routine for the rest of your life?"
She previewed all the questions her therapist asked a week earlier. Every morning, when the kids went to school and Sara to work, she walked to the park, smoked and repeated those questions, answering each in her head.
Problem that every time her answers differed, and she knew the answers she gave her therapist in the following session were different. That's why the latter advised her to always ask herself those questions until she found the right answers. If you're not willing to carry on with such a life, Tegan, then you should change it and begin living the life you want, not the life Sara has structured for you and for the kids you both share.
What was the life she wanted? How could she start?
She stood up because she felt the cold touching her body. She was not supposed to drink any coffee so her blood pressure wouldn't rise up. She wiped her tears and her nose with a tissue and resumed her walk back home.
She had to make a decision soon. She had to decide whether she was going to tell Sara, tell her parents, or just walk this journey on her own.
She entered her stuffy place at 11:52. She took off her Converse shoes and put them in the shoe closet by the door and then hung her coat on the above compartment that held in the family's heavy jackets and coats for daily outings. With a deep sigh, she walked toward the kitchen to begin working on the day's dinner since she skipped lunch so her and the kids ate a little bit earlier than usual. Sara had her lunch and dinner both at work. She usually prepared her own lunchboxes and Tegan would keep her portion of whatever she cooked for dinner so she could also take it with her the next day. Jack had a mini fridge in his office, Sara had told her, and that's where Sara kept her dinners.
She attempted to clean the house, but miserably failed after cleaning her and the kids' rooms. Her heavy palpitations and fatigue halted her action, pushing her to rest on the couch outside. She took deep breaths and felt her tears running down her face. She allowed herself to cry then because when she did, words came out of her and she wrote them in her online journal. Sometimes she published them. Sometimes she didn't.
September 18, 2019
While she's healing, I'm only getting worse…relapsing. I feel myself vanishing the more I spend time stuck between these four walls. I love my children and I love my wife, but I don't think I love myself enough to put up with them. I don't know myself enough. I didn't know that a few therapy sessions could open up such wounds and send me back to stage zero. I truly detest the fact that I am rethinking every decision I have ever made, and I truly don't want to act upon what my therapist is suggesting, but what if it becomes my last resort and my only option? I truly can't take it here. I can't take being a mother anymore…not right now, not today. I don't want to be her wife. I don't even know what I want. I don't know who I am. I don't know anything. I am just lost and I don't know what to do. I wanna escape, but how? How does one escape a life they have chosen and a responsibility they have created?
They're her kids, too. Maybe I could just disappear and nobody will know.
She paused at the words she had written and interrupted a loud sob with a sudden plea for air once she felt her chest was being stabbed.
She truly thought she was about to die at that moment with the pressure and loud agonizing pain that troubled her chest. She truly thought she was having a heart attack because it felt like a knife thrust into her ribcage.
It was merely a panic attack that disturbed her reality and sent her back to an abyss she couldn't think she would ever meet.
Just the mere thought of running away did that to her. She couldn't imagine herself betraying Sara, the kids…everyone, including herself.
She decided to call the cardiologist recommended for her. She planned it in her head: getting a checkup, hearing what the doctor would say, then telling Sara. She was not going to tell her right away. Sara would fret and worry and induce the baggage of anxiety.
Thankfully (and also unfortunately), due to the urgency of her case, she was given an appointment the next morning. Perfect. The kids would be at school and Sara at work.
She left the house again when it was time to pick up the kids. She waited for them at the reception, but they left holding both hands of their caretaker who demanded to speak to Tegan urgently.
"Now?" Tegan asked with hesitancy clouding up the newly apparent lines on her brow. "I have to take them home. Can the conversation happen later or when their mother drops them off tomorrow?" Her feet couldn't hold her. She felt dizzy and immediately sat down again. The girls sat down next to her.
"I just need….Umm, Christina, can you take the kids inside for a second?" called the caretaker.
The kids were taken away and the other woman joined Tegan, clearing her throat before speaking. "We don't want to make this hard for you, but you still haven't dealt with Rose's potty-training issue." Tegan closed her eyes and opened them again. Don't cry. Don't cry. Not now. She had been warned before, but Rose just wouldn't stop wetting her pants. "She peed again today and didn't tell us until her sister whispered it in my ears." Tegan took a deep breath. "You know we can't let in kids that aren't potty trained. Please, understand our policy. We're giving her one last chance."
"She's still trying," Tegan argued. "Can't you see that her sister knows when to ask to go to the bathroom, but she can't?"
"She's not even trying, Mrs. Clement. She never asked. Sometimes, and that's very rare, she would tell her sister and Scarlet would announce it, but mostly she just goes there." Tegan nodded. She's aware because her kid returned with a note about this situation almost every day. Maybe she could tell Sara to deal with it, maybe they needed to take her to a doctor. "And Scarlet…"
"What about her?" screamed Tegan. The other three individuals in the room looked up at her. "She's perfectly fine."
"No…she…I mean, yes, but her hyperactivity is a little alarming. Her pronunciation is also concerning. Have you thought about getting her checked?" Tegan stood up immediately. That was pure nonsense.
"Get me my kids, please." She took a deep breath. "You're just saying shit right now because you want them out of the daycare."
"Why would I…" Tegan was glaring at her and the woman surrendered to the thundering eyes, leaving behind her a raging brunette standing stoutly waiting for her kids.
Tegan took an Uber on the way back home. She knew if she walked, she would collapse. She had to hold her tears back in front of her kids. It wasn't their fault anyway. She knew very well that Rose still had a problem when it came to saying she needed to use the bathroom, Scarlet's pronunciation was as messed up as hers when she was a baby; a stutter, a lisp, and a stammer. Scarlet was also hyperactive and moved constantly. Apparently, Adam had been that way, because Tegan wasn't.
She got rid of her coat and the kids', putting the items in the closet by the door. She asked the girls to chase her to the bathroom upstairs as they're used to do every day. She took a look at her phone to check for notifications. Sara had sent an Instagram DM, the group chat she and Sara had with Stacy and Emy had also been bombarded with silly jokes the other couple sent almost every day, jokes she and Sara no longer interacted with. She checked her email and her appointment was confirmed for the next morning.
She took the birth control pill she was prescribed and went upstairs. She helped the girls out of their clothes and immediately drew the bath. She put Rose on the toilet first while Scarlet waited for her turn.
"How was your day?" she whispered gently, face close to her daughter, eyes focused on the small greens she loved so much. How could she ever think of leaving them? They were the sinews that operated her aching heart.
"Fine," Rose answered, cheeks red unmasking the guilt of today's events.
"Did you eat all your food?" She took a hold of Scarlet's hand because the kid was about to move around and Tegan didn't want her to open cabinets and drawers, mess with the water in the bath or touch anything.
"Yes," said Rose jovially, the redness increasing and a bright smile appearing on her chubby face.
Tegan laughed at little. "Good girl." She pecked her little nose which Rose giggled at.
"Did you tell Ms. Corey you needed to go potty?"
"Yes," Rose lied.
"She thayz poopie," Scarlet interrupted. "Poopie, poopie, but Mith Coey doethn't lithen."
"Yes," Rose confirmed.
"Tho I thaid woozie had to go nawbeh one but it was too late." Tegan sighed, shaking her head.
"Oh, baby," Tegan kissed her daughter's forehead. "You're such a good sister to Rosie." Scarlet's arm wrapped around her mother's neck, seeking a needed embrace. "I'll give you a hug after the bath, baby." Tegan kissed her forehead again and let go, focusing her attention back on Rose who she knelt in front of. She put her nose against Rose's and smiled. "You're doing a good job telling your sister, baby," she softly whispered. "But you need to raise your voice more and you should say you have to go potty not poopy so that Ms. Corey can hear you well and take you. We don't want her to be angry and sad."
"No," whispered Rose back, disappointment clouding the lids of her eyes, tears beginning to fall down.
"Don't cry," whispered her mother, a tear also escaping her left eye. She kissed Rose's nose a couple of times and asked her if she's done. She wiped for her and flushed the toilet. She put Scarlet on the toilet and helped Rose wash her hand. She then asked Scarlet about her day, trying her best to make her repeat the words she mispronounced until Scarlet shrieked loudly, despising being corrected. Tegan held her closely and apologized. She kissed her cheeks a number of times before getting both in the bathtub.
The bath and dinner with her kids was her favorite part of every day. It's when she connected with the most innocent souls around her, felt how beautiful they were, how close they were to her, how much they loved and needed her, especially Scarlet who wanted nothing in the world but to be embraced by her all the time. Scarlet worshipped her and she loved it…but only when she didn't overthink, only when her anxiety medication was working.
She prepared the formula for the girls after. They only had one bottle a day now in the evening. She put them on their tiny bean bags in the living room and gave them each her bottle after they were done picking the book for the day. Tegan always followed this routine, but that was her least favorite part of the day.
Those hours before Sara returned were the loneliest. The darkness from outside cascaded its shadow on the living room. She hated the night the most, or the beginning of it when the sun began to set. Darkness birthed fear, made her heart beat rapidly, struck her with scary images and lonely fantasies of loss. She remembered the dark tunnel and the blue car she drove in her nightmares. She remembered how she couldn't reach the breaks and how the car flew away without a stop. She had no control over the car and the streets were empty. White lights flickered but darkness danced along. The only light came from her sneakers which lit up whenever she attempted stepping on something to reach the brakes.
She wished Sara loved her the way she used to, took care of her, hugged her, kissed her, made her feel safe. She had forgotten the tunnel for a while with Sara and now Sara kicked her back to it and left her on her own.
Why did she have to be so mean?
Why did she have to be so cold?
That was not the Sara she loved.
When she was done with the story and the twins done with their milk, it was time for them to run around, play, and jump around. That was definitely the worst part of the day because her head would implode and her exhaustion would dizzy her.
Until Sara arrived, she would be running around behind the girls…but that night she couldn't and she left them at their will. The floor was dirty, the couches were full of chips, and the furniture was full of dust. She could barely move, so everyone had to suck it up.
They calmed down when Sara arrived and picked both of them up when they ran towards her. She sat down and put them on her lap. She kissed them and joked around with them.
"Are you listening?"
"Huh?" Tegan finally snapped out of her observation.
"Ummm…I was asking…uh, never mind." The day Sara told her she was not her caretaker ended all affection between them. Tegan had spent the best months of her life just before that, feeling appreciated, loved, and safe. She hadn't known she was just a burden. After that day, she decided to cut off all ties, and Sara didn't try.
"Will you put them to bed? I gotta shower," Tegan said, getting up.
"Sure," she heard her wife mumble before she walked away and walked into their bedroom. She first sat down on the mattress and took steady breaths so she wouldn't cry. Why would she cry? Why did she cry so much?
She got into the shower, deciding not to take long. If circumstances were better, she would have touched herself. Sometimes she missed doing that and it had been too long.
But she didn't. She couldn't. Her medications numbed her need. Her anxiety killed it.
Sara was waiting for her turn next. She had stopped walking in unannounced. She stopped doing whatever Tegan had once complained about.
Sara didn't take long, too. Tegan always wondered whether she touched herself because her showers were always quick and when they slept, Sara was always numbed before her.
But Tegan took the chance to check Sara's phone right before she left. She had been doing that lately after noticing Jack's name a number of times on Sara's screen weeks before. When she looked at their conversations, nothing odd or fishy seemed to alarm her except the fact that Jack always tried to flirt and Sara never gave him space.
Nevertheless, that night when she checked Sara's phone, the conversation she and Jack had the previous night made her jaw drop.
He first had apologized about texting her at such an hour. It was a bit after midnight. Tegan must have been asleep and she swore she recalled Sara sleeping before her. He claimed he wanted to ask if she was doing well because her mood seemed off in the morning. He hoped he wasn't interrupting anything.
"Oh, please, would I even respond to you if I was engaged in what you're thinking of?"
"And what would that be?" He texted with a wink emoji.
"Sly, aren't you?" Sara responded. After a minute, another response came from her. "That ship has sailed, my friend."
"Ouch, how come?"
"I'll fill you in later. It's why I've been feeling down lately."
"And you've been looking hotter than ever somehow. Feeling down doesn't suit you."
"Shut up." Tegan imagined Sara smiling at the compliment, only she knew her wife's need for flattery.
"I mean it! I haven't seen you in tight blue jeans before. Couldn't help but stare."
"It's Tegan's."
"My wife, btw!" she added.
"Noted." He sent an angel emoji. "Though you just said that ship has sailed so I thought I'd take my chance."
"Fuck off." Sara sent a laughing emoji. "If you hadn't been a manwhore, I would still be yours, but your loss."
"Indeed, my loss."
She let go of the phone immediately upon hearing the click of the knob. Her heart raced as she looked at Sara with wide eyes. Sara stopped loving her. She had feelings for Jack.
Sara got into bed after three sneezes in a row. She switched on the television and put on her glasses. Tegan watched the film while migrating from one application to the other, overthinking the conversation she had just read.
"Uh…I'm going to Dr. Anderson on Monday…if…you wanna…"
"No," Tegan interrupted. "I do my regular checkups with Dr. Wilson."
"Hmm."
Tegan thought about telling her. She truly did, but she had to tell her about all the health hurdles she'd been dealing with before breaking the news.
After going to the cardiologist, Tegan promised herself. "Uh…wh…why are you going, though?" she also wanted to know. She still worried; she always did.
"Just my monthly checkup…I…" Sara cleared her throat. "I want a solution for my libido because my antidepressants have annihilated it." She chuckled, but Tegan didn't.
"I have a few cysts," Tegan blurted out with a beating chest. At least she needed to come clean about one of her medical conditions.
"What?" Sara averted her gaze from the TV. and sat up to look at her. "When did you know? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Just a few days ago. I'm on birth control. Dr. Wilson said it's gonna be fine."
They stared at one another for a minute. Sara's eyes gazing and searching for the lies. During that moment, Tegan wanted nothing but for her wife's hand to extend to her face, to touch it, to caress it, maybe kiss her, hold her, and tell her everything would be fine.
Sara didn't, though. She was pulling at the sleeves of her white pajama shirt and biting her lower lip endlessly while still staring. Why couldn't Sara show her love and affection anymore? Was it the fight that changed it all? Or maybe Sara just didn't love her? She had promised she wouldn't be a burden and yet there she was telling Sara about some problem going on with her once again. She was just a baby—a fucking crybaby.
"Yeah, but, Tegan, these cysts can be dangerous," Sara whispered, looking down at her matching white pajama pants. "You haven't gotten a period since May?" Tegan shook her head. "That's fucked up. Your hormones are all over the place, but, anyway, you're on your anxiety meds, so it makes sense."
"Rose peed herself again today," Tegan felt the immense need to change the subject. "Maybe we should take her to the doctor."
"God," Sara mumbled to herself. "Okay, but I know there's nothing wrong with her. She's just not potty trained well." Sara shrugged.
"I just wanna make sure all is fine."
"Of course."
Sara didn't even attempt getting the topic back to be about her. She gave her none of the attention she needed.
Her heart raced and ached thinking about that.
"Scarlet has a speech problem. Her pronunciation…"
"There's literally nothing wrong with her. She's just two. Just because Rose can recite poetry, it doesn't mean Scarlet has to do the same."
She always bothered her. What was she still doing there? God, she hated herself.
Not knowing how she slept or even when, Tegan felt thankful that she actually did. She woke up to Sara's soft voice on the phone, but could barely pick up the words because her head felt heavy and her chest felt tingly. She walked to the bathroom slowly and took deep breaths. A panic attack the moment she woke up was the last thing she needed.
She woke the kids up, took them to the bathroom, helped them washup, dressed them, and styled their hair for the morning. Despite the heaviness in her chest, Tegan still found time to kiss and cuddle her daughters, pinching their cheeks and kissing their foreheads before sending them with Sara, who was strangely silent and occupied with her phone.
Tegan checked her phone, too. Hundreds of messages from the group chat she and her wife shared with their best friends. She opened it in order to mute it without reading a single message. Not now. She wanted to get the doctor's appointment over with.
She had about an hour to relax and control her thoughts and breathing before she got ready, so she did just that. She attempted some yoga poses and attempted grounding herself as her therapist had instructed. In the bathroom, she made sure her under arms were fully shaved and she decided to wear a comfortable sports bra, too. She hated the idea that her chest was going to be exposed, especially when it looked like that, but she tried to remind herself that the doctor was not there to look at her chest or judge her appearance; he was there to check her heart, to help her, to direct her.
She wore a floral blouse from Sara's closet. It was a bit oversized but that's only because Sara had more weight on her now. Tegan didn't mind that since the material camouflaged the existence of her breasts. She wore her own skinny jeans since Sara's mom jeans were too big for her. There was a time when they both shared the same clothes, but now Sara's thighs were a catch for the hungry eyes (including hers but she would never admit that to anyone again) and Sara's breasts made every top she wore looked like it was made just for her (not that she would admit that, too, or even enjoy it for herself, but she still admired how her wife's body looked like heaven; she still wished she could enjoy it). That's why Sara was now wearing her old clothes back from when she looked healthy.
She felt a little kick when she thought about Sara's body. She deeply blushed as if she were that eighteen-year-old girl sitting in Sara's class admiring from afar.
She bet Sara's cunt could make her feel better if she could just fuck her once. Why didn't she have a penis so she could get it inside and feel the tightness she loved? Why couldn't she give Sara what Jack easily could?
She shook her head and bit her lower lip, drawing blood at the thought. She hadn't noticed how tightly her legs were closed as she sat in the backseat of the Uber.
Does she find me attractive, too?
No, Sara didn't, she answered herself. Sara didn't even hold her hand anymore.
She often wondered if it were the period sex that repulsed Sara, but she knew Sara better to know that such matters never repulsed her.
It was her clinginess and her need for Sara that pulled Sara away from her.
It was the big fight that annihilated their marriage.
…
Post examination, she listened to the doctor as he explained her situation clearly. The tightening of her arteries was becoming an issue that required medical and surgical intervention so that breathing can be normal. Such surgeries weren't easy nor were safe, she was informed. She held in her tears and nodded, hearing the doctor suggest the closest opening slot for this surgery to be performed and how time should not be wasted.
She had to inform Sara. She had to inform her parents, too. Good, God, she had to ruin everyone's life again telling them about her health.
She sobbed like a child on her way back home. Stacy and Emy hadn't stopped texting her or texting on the group and she had no time or energy to read and respond. What was wrong with them that day?
She had an hour left to calm herself down before picking up the kids from kindergarten.
She picked up the phone and dialed up her father's number deciding to fill him in just in case he offered an alternative opinion.
She didn't know she was going to break down like that talking to him. Sobs and hiccups interrupted her sentences while attempting to narrate her torment. She hadn't even said half what she did to her therapist.
Her father was silent for a while before he spoke what she wanted to hear from only him, "Maybe what your mother said last year was right." He cleared his throat and sighed. Tegan's hiccups halted. "I don't want to force you to do anything, but think about it. Not now, of course, since you have the surgery to take care of, but think about it, Tegan."
"Don't tell mom, please," she begged, sniffling and shaking.
"I'm not going to, but you should tell Sara about your heart."
"I will," she said, closing her eye to squeeze more tears out. By then, she was positive that even her sensical and logical father considered that marriage as a toxic form of union that she needed to let go of.
What about the kids?
She truly loved her kids.
And she loved Sara.
But Sara didn't love her.
Hurry up, please, it's time.
Maybe that's what that poem had meant all along.
How come those anxiety pills didn't work?
She just wanted to rest.
She had to pick up the kids from daycare.
Rose had wet her pants once again. Tegan just couldn't deal with it any longer. She was given one last warning about Rose. Expelling a toddler seemed crazy to Tegan. Was it like that in her days, too? She told them to inform Sara and the looks she was given assured her of being judged.
Yeah, let the world know that she and her wife weren't on good terms. Who cared any longer.
The kids also gave her a hard time that day that she screamed her lungs out at them after feeding them. They both cried heavily as they were put into their cribs until they fell asleep.
Tegan cried on her own with guilt punishing her.
Sara was going to be home soon and she wanted it as an opportunity to leave the kids and go out on her own. She had to think about how she was going to tell her about the surgery. She had to think about her options on her own. Therefore, she got dressed and waited until Sara returned so she could leave.
Her wife seemed bewildered but screw her. It's enough she left her on her own the entirety of every single day. Let her deal with the kids for once.
"Where are you going?" Sara asked her once she informed her about going out.
She hesitated to tell her she wanted to spend time on her own so she lied and said, "Oh…uh…I'm meeting Emy and Jeremy in the diner. We haven't gone out…just the three of us."
She saw Sara nodding without a single expected objection. Her brows were furrowed but a hint of a hidden smile masked her features. "Have fun," she responded. Tegan hoped to God Sara wouldn't dial up Stacy and figure out her lie.
However, her hopes were unmet; the constant calls from Stacy and Emy alerted her. She knew then that Sara had caught her lie, so she picked up Emy's last call just to make sure before going back home and explaining herself and her situation to Sara. She had made her decision and she had to tell her about the surgery.
"Tegan, where the hell are you?" Emy said the moment Tegan picked up the phone.
"Um…out…on my own." She sniffled, wiping her nose. She had been crying, thinking, speculating, wondering.
"Tegan, come home now," she whispered. "Sara thinks you're cheating on her. She knows you lied. It's her birthday and we surprised her and she's been crying for over an hour in front of everyone."
Her breath was immediately caught inside her chest. How was it possible that she had forgotten? What was the date? The day? Oh, my, God. God, God, God.
"I…I forgot. I don't know how I forgot." She got up immediately, mentally rebuking herself and gradually understanding Sara's eerie silence.
She couldn't tell her that night, not after forgetting her birthday. She couldn't ruin it more with her shit news and burdens.
However, the sight that struck her when she entered her home left her at her wits' end. Everybody declared leaving while crying Sara was being comforted by the man she couldn't help but admit to herself that she despised the most and wished she had never gotten him inside her and Sara's life. She wanted to yell at him, to push his hand away or even kick him, but he understood her looks and followed the rest of their friend group, all confoundingly eyeing her as if she had committed the ugliest crime.
How dare Sara think she was the one cheating when Jack was slowly ruining her marriage by making Sara hate her?
"Why was his hand on your body?" she asked shortly, trying her best to maintain her composure. She eyed the half-eaten cake and wine-filled glasses on the dining table. She studied the variety of chips and dips untouched. Presents also adorned the round table and scratched her heart because after everything Sara had done for her during her birthday, she couldn't even remember Sara's.
Maybe that's why Sara was falling for Jack again. Maybe she was the problem.
Sara was about to walk away when she yelled, "I'm talking to you." They had to at least talk it out, fight about it, do something, anything.
It was the last straw for her.
"Because it's my birthday and my wife just ignored the fuck out of it," Sara shouted in her face, tears still streaming down. "Are you really making yourself the victim in this situation, too, Tegan?"
When had she ever made herself the victim? Why couldn't Sara see her misery? If she told Sara about her heart, Sara wouldn't even believe her at that point. She was just a fucking attention seeker. She was just trying to blame it on Jack and she knew it.
Before she noticed, she was having another panic attack, but she was able to control it as quickly as it had emerged. Sara watched until her breathing regulated.
Once again, Sara didn't want to talk…Sara didn't do anything. She probably thought she was faking those panic attacks.
"I'm sorry I forgot about your birthday…I fucked up," she decided to say because she knew she really did fuck up.
"Where were you and why did you lie to me?" Sara dismissed her apology.
She told her the truth. What could she say, anyway? Sara didn't respond to that, too. Sara left her alone in front of the messy table and her muddled mind.
She wanted a reaction from Sara…something, anything. That time, she wanted Sara to fight with her, to yell, to speak, to say something. They had to talk about it—about everything: her surgery, Jack, Sara's feelings, the girls, the broken marriage…just everything.
But Sara didn't even attempt a fight when she lashed out at her for leaving the messy table and going upstairs. She promised she would clean everything in the morning.
Tegan couldn't sleep and couldn't cry in Sara's presence when Sara thought she victimized herself. A little while after Sara's soft snores made a sound, she left the bedroom, checked on her kids, and sat alone in the living room to think and weep.
And a little while later, Sara joined her with a worried timber and haggard features. It seemed that Sara understood her feelings because she brought up Jack and the jealousy she felt. Sara was gentle the way she had missed; she promised she would do whatever to make her feel better, she promised she would drop the evening classes, she would cook and clean again. Sara apologized while Tegan sobbed.
She hated that their friends knew she was not alright. She hated that their friends knew their marriage was ending. She hated that her friends and parents knew that their relationship couldn't last if things stayed that way. She also hated that Sara told them they had no sex life anymore.
Though Sara apologized, Tegan still felt choked up.
"Even if Jack tried everything to get me back, which I know he's not doing, I won't ever be his. I'm always yours, you know." Tegan went back to bed with those words echoing in her brain.
Even if she left? Would Sara chase her? Would Sara do anything and everything to get her back?
What if she asked Sara to cut all ties with Jack?
But he worked with her.
God, she hated him.
Why did she love Sara so much and why was that the thing she hated the most about herself?
When she woke up in the morning, Sara was on the phone fretting about an urgent meeting while attempting to pull her pants up. Tegan headed towards the twins' bedroom to get them ready for the day. She discovered that Rose had wet her pants at night. While gently reprimanding her, Rose threw a tantrum of tears and cries, calling for the mother she loved more to take her away from Tegan, but Sara was too busy yelling on the phone. She was yelling at her secretary first and then at Jack and then at one of her co-workers. Fuck being a dean if it meant Sara was a bitch to everyone when she was already a classic bitch.
It took Tegan a while to calm Rose down and get Scarlet to stop moving so she could get them dressed and get their hair done. Sara was pacing back and forth, too scared to yell at her after last night's conversation. She could sense Sara's impatience with every puff and sigh. What was so urgent that made her like that? She handed her the kids and rolled her eyes, heading back to bed so she could continue her sleep.
On her way upstairs, she noticed the table in its previous messy state and she left it that way. She only cleaned up Rose's mattress and then went back to sleep again.
When she woke up, she found a few voice messages from Sara.
"Hey. Why is the kindergarten telling me they've been trying to reach out to me? Did they talk to you about the girls?"
"We agreed you'll handle whatever's going on in there because you told me you didn't want me to be bitchy and rude to people taking care of our children."
"Hey, Tee, don't clean up what's on the table. I'll do it once I'm home. I'm gonna cancel my evening classes to take you and the girls out."
Fucking unbelievable. "You'll never change," Tegan whispered to herself and lay back down on the mattress. She recalled very well talking to Sara about the girls only two nights before. That woman lacked responsibility and her head was always only focused on her job. Tegan had had enough of that.
She didn't cook that day because Sara said they would have dinner outside even though part of her disbelieved anything Sara said. She also left the mess on the table for Sara to clean. It was a marriage and she was not Sara's maid and babysitter. Didn't Sara put a stop to her co-dependence? Well, she, too, needed to draw the limits and get Sara to share the house's burden.
Wasn't that what they had agreed on before? Weren't those Sara's promises?
When she picked up the girls from kindergarten, the head handed her their files, telling her that the girls were both permanently expelled because Scarlet called her teacher "Bitch" and Rose pooped her pants.
Tegan was shocked. She didn't even know what to say. She cried the entire way home, looking at the two failures she had created. Their friends had warned them about cursing in front of their children, but she never cared, neither Sara did. As for Rose, she had nothing to say except cry and reprimand the child who cried and screamed.
Tegan put her face in both hands and cried for what seemed like hours while her phone rang and her kids silently stared at her.
"Sorry," Rose kept repeating. "So sorry, Teetee mummy." Her tiny arms wrapped around her mother's legs. Her tears fell. Her lisp was as strong as her confounded sister's.
That's it. She had to make a decision, but what would she tell Sara? How would she even confront Sara? She could give her and Sara one last chance. They could go out and talk.
Though she knew she would break down right there. She had to calm herself down before Sara got home so she could talk to her, so she could give her that one last chance.
And if Sara didn't come home, she was leaving. She had already failed being a mother and she didn't care if she left the kids alone.
She tested her luck by leaving the girls on their own and moving to the bathroom, ridding herself of her clothes, and preparing herself for the shower.
Sara was supposed to be home by then, but she heard no voice. Her panic arose.
She would shower and leave, she told herself that.
But she had to write a letter to inform Sara. She had to do something. What if Sara caught her or chased her?
Her heart almost stopped at the sudden knock accompanied by Sara's gentle voice asking her if she was ready to go out.
A save.
Or maybe not.
She opened the door as quickly as possible, panting for breaths. She truly thought Sara would lie to her. She told her to clean up and get the girls ready and she'd take a quick shower and go down.
One last chance.
One last hope, God.
I really don't wanna leave you. I really don't wanna go.
She attempted dressing up like the day before. Inhaling and exhaling, she walked down the stairs to a sight that made her stop in her place and clench her fists.
There's no hope.
Sara had not changed for the girls. Their hair was disheveled and their faces full of snot and dried tears. Their feet were on the couch with their shoes on and crumbs of chips that Sara pathetically attempted to remove were all over the place. The table was half clean and Sara continuingly promised she would clean up the rest and get the girls ready.
When Sara told her that she looked good, a cloud fogged up her mind and a pang rested in her chest. She had made her decision.
She had to leave.
Now before she changed her mind again.
Despite her growing panic, she asked Sara to leave and despite Sara's attempts to convince her that they could talk even if it were just the two of them, she still insisted that Sara should take the kids and leave.
Sara seemed worried but Tegan had failed and she had to surrender.
She watched as Sara stayed outside for about fifteen minutes. Both of them cried, she while writing her farewell letter and Sara while clutching the steering wheel.
What if Sara never left? How would she leave?
She sniffled and packed up as hurriedly as possible.
Sara was gone.
She ordered an Uber and texted her mother.
"You were right. Sara and I should have never gotten married. I left like you told me. Left the kids with her. Please lock your phone and don't pick up her calls until I arrive. I'll try to get the next flight to you. Don't worry about me. I'm fine; I just can't do this marriage any longer. You were right."
Her mother called immediately while she was in the Uber. She picked up only to calm her mother down and ask her not to tell Sara.
"So you just ran away?"
"K…kinda like that…uh, dad knows. Please don't tell her. I'll talk to her when my mind is clear. Please, mom." She was sobbing in front of the strange driver.
Sara began to call next and then Emy. She was lucky to find a flight to SAN departing in less than an hour.
Her heart almost stopped at each step she took until she walked inside the plane, locking up her phone and wondering if she would ever be back again.