"Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?

The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine"

Pressure washing is more complicated than it looks. Those ASMR videos online make it seem simple, but Aubrey Posen knew better now. After an hour or so, the brutal vibration from the pressure washer rattles your bones and it begins to hurt. And the noise is deafening, not only of the water but of the machine itself. Relentless and annoying. Sure you can wear noise-canceling headphones or earplugs and they help a little bit, but wearing them for extended periods of time is extremely uncomfortable. And no matter what you're wearing you are constantly wet, and constantly dirty, your clothes, your eye protection, your hair. It is just absolutely awful.

But there's one thing those videos get right, the results are extremely satisfying.

Aubrey shut off the machine, drenched and covered in grime. Her protective eyewear, clothes, and even her face were filthy, but as she examined her progress, she felt exhilarated and proud. The terracotta tiles of the grounds were finally the bright orange they were supposed to be.

Hotel California was finally coming together.

In just a week, she'd managed to clear the litter and debris. And after three labor-heavy days of pressure washing, the tiles were clean, and the graffiti was almost all gone. Next, she needed to tackle the pool and apply a fresh base coat of primer paint, pretty much everywhere, and then it would be ready for the real work.

Sure, she could have hired laborers to do this, but then she wouldn't have the satisfaction of doing it herself and indulging in her new late afternoon ritual.

Aubrey walked into the empty room, where she and her father had stayed in all those years ago. The very first thing she'd done after that big fight was clear a space for herself to stay in as she worked in the hotel and that room suited her needs adequately. She had cleaned it out and made it habitable. The walls were bare, and covered in primer paint, but she had put in a small cot that had actually been top of the line and surprisingly comfortable, the bathroom was completely clean so she could shower and rest for the night.

It was a far cry from five star hotels, or her magnificent condo in Santa Barbara, or the beauty and warmth of Stacie's home, but for now this bedroom so full of memories in her hotel fulfilled all of her needs. After a quick shower, she donned a swimsuit and some shorts and she sat on the recliner with a cold beer.

She basked in the warmth of the sun, and once she felt relaxed and settled, she glanced around, making sure there was no one. She knew there'd be no one, the place was locked and the walls kept folks from peering in. And she removed her bikini and let the sun rays kiss every inch of her body. It was exhilarating, relaxing, absolutely freeing and just a little bit naughty. It felt like she was making love to the sun. She took a deep breath, trying her hardest to clear her mind. But as always her thoughts strayed back to that night.

The night after she left Stacie's home.

Aubrey cranked up the radio and the obnoxious local DJ came on. He talked incessantly and played annoying sound effects that warped and echoed his shrill voice and he punctuated every other sentence with that stupid air horn. But the idiot was giving her exactly what she needed right now. She needed to quiet the voices, the racing thoughts, to quell her panic and to dry her tears. She could feel that ever-present black hole inside her grow and grow, starting to consume her. It all felt hopeless, and she replayed the fight with Stacie over and over and over again. Her words echoed through her head, and pierced through her heart.

"Like how you left your husband!"

"I can't believe I used to look up to you,"

She slammed on the gas pedal. When she reached the Motel, she didn't get out and open the gate like she did last time. This time, her emotions took the wheel, and she rammed the gate open. She slammed on the breaks and stopped the truck in the exact same spot she did the day before, just in front of the pool. She left the engine running, the headlights and the radio on, as loud as she could. She started pacing around the truck, drying her tears. As the idiot DJ on the radio blabbered on.

She had no idea why she said the things she said. She was a feminist, she was never one to slut shame, and yet that's exactly what she did to Stacie. She hated herself for it, and how she let her emotions overwhelm her to that point.

Worst of all it was seeing the disappointment and hurt in Stacie's eyes when she called herthe other woman. Why did she do that? Who cares who B.B's father is? She loved the girl all the same, that would never change. But then why had she been so hurt? Was it a remnant of her penchant for perfectionism?

All these questions without answers made her head spin and fueled her tears.

She looked around the motel. In a corner there were the bags full of the litter she picked up in the morning. The walls were covered with graffiti, to some these could be seen as urban art, to her right now it was a fucking eyesore and she couldn't wait to get rid of them. She leaned against the truck and tried to gather her wits.

How had the day turned out like this? It felt like everything just went to shit. Like whatever progress she made in her life had just disappeared.

She looked up at the night sky, it was a black canvas shrouded by the sparkling lights of dying stars, millions of miles away. She felt so alone, and so painfully confused. And the idiot on the radio played the next song. It started with a soft guitar, a familiar melody from a memory damn near forgotten. The strumming and plucking was mesmerizing, and her ears perked up to take in the song. And then in sync with her heartbeat, the drum beat, cueing the singer to bewitch the listener.

"On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell

And I was thinkin' to myself, "This could be heaven or this could be hell"

Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way

There were voices down the corridor, I thought I heard them say"

Aubrey could feel her heart settle with the song. She remembered listening to this song with her dad, as they drove down here in his convertible. They would sing it as loud as they could, and the memory soothed her soul and quieted her mind.

Her marriage was falling apart, her friendship with Stacie felt like it was in ruins, and worst of all she didn't know when she'd see B.B. again. But at least the motel was still here.

"Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the Hotel California

Any time of year (any time of year)

You can find it here"

She looked around once more and just like last time she saw what it once was, and what it could be. And she remembered, she bought this place because it was a reflection of her, and like her it could be "lovely" again.

"Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes-Benz, uh

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat

Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the Captain, "Please bring me my wine"

He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since 1969"

And still, those voices are calling from far away

Wake you up in the middle of the night just to hear them say"

Everything may be going to hell, but the motel was here, that was certain and through it she would heal. And maybe in due time the answers would come to her. Her heart would yearn for Stacie and B.B. and what their life together had looked like, but for now she needed the motel and the motel needed her.

"Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

They're livin' it up at the Hotel California

What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)

Bring your alibis"

"Motel California… no…" Aubrey shook her head. That didn't sound quite right. "Hotel California" She glanced at the radio and then at her surroundings, thinking to herself, "A little on the nose, but it's just too perfect." She thought about it for a second and said, "I might need to talk to my lawyer about that one though."

Hotel California needed her, and she needed it.

Stacie poked at her food, her frown deepening with each bite. Dr. Patell noticed and raised an eyebrow. "Not hungry?"

"Starving, actually. I've got a ton of patients today, plus more paperwork than I can handle, and all I can think about is how terrible the lunch food is. Look at this—unseasoned chicken, bland mashed potatoes with barely any salt, and overcooked green peas. And this gravy?" She scooped up a bit with her fork and let it drip back onto her plate. "Tastes like it's from a mix."

Dr. Patell smirked. "Of course, it's from a mix. Did you think they made it from scratch? Who has time for that in a hospital cafeteria?"

Aubrey would have made it from scratch, she would have packed it in a neat little lunch box in a nice glass container, and it would have been delicious and filling. She missed those lunches dearly. It had only been a week, but each meal had been thoughtful, packed with snacks and homemade cookies. The staff was just as disappointed as she was when the cookies stopped coming. But what she missed most was the thrill of opening her lunchbox, knowing that Aubrey had somehow packed exactly what she wanted—or rather, needed—every time. She could just picture Aubrey, going through the cupboards, her nose wrinkled trying to imagine what she'd like to eat, and baking cookies with her daughter.

It took him a second but Dr. Patel finally understood what was really going on, and he cautiously asked, "Still haven't heard from her?"

Stacie dropped her plastic fork and exasperatedly said, "No man! It's been a week!"

Dr. Patel recoiled slightly and then asked, "Why don't you reach out to her then?"

"Why should I? She's the one… that um, she was a dick!"

Dr. Patell sighed. "If the mountain won't come to Mohammed…"

"Again… why should I? I did nothing wrong… that mountain needs to step up and apologize."

"What has the mountain been up to?" Dr. Patell asked as he gestured towards Stacie's phone.

Stacie pulled out her phone. When Aubrey agreed to look after B.B. she had insisted Stacie have access to her location 24/7. She thought it was a bit intrusive but after their big fight, she'd be lying if she hadn't checked her location at least ten times per minute. She pulled up the app, and just as she suspected, Aubrey was still at the Motel.

"I'm guessing she's still fixing up the Motel."

"Do you miss her?"

Stacie didn't answer. She didn't trust herself to answer. It felt like if she as much as opened her mouth she'd say something along the lines of, "I don't just miss her! Every second, every minute, every day that goes by and she's not there, I feel incomplete. I feel empty. I feel like the birds stopped singing, the sun stopped shining, I feel this gray cloud hovering me everywhere I go. And it's absolutely ridiculous and stupid and I hate that I can't help it."

But to Dr. Patell her silence spoke volumes and he simply repeated, "If the mountain won't come to Mohammed…"

Stacie rolled her eyes and pressed her face against her hands and groaned loudly enough for everyone in the cafeteria to notice.

Stacie looked up and stared wistfully at the little dot that depicted Aubrey's location.

Aubrey lay back on the lounge chair, the sun warm on her skin as she tried to relax. The beer in her hand was cold, and the sun's rays were a comforting embrace. For a moment, she managed to push away the morning's tensions and let herself breathe.

Her phone buzzed on the table beside her. She glanced over and saw her husband's name on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't expected to hear from him so early, usually their scheduled Friday dates were later in the evening. She wrapped a towel around herself and sat up. After a brief hesitation, she answered.

"Hey," she said, a little confused and surprised.

"Aubrey," he began, his tone serious. "Did you really have the opportunity to work in Munich?

"W-what?" Everything came to a standstill. She had almost forgotten about this.

"Tracy mentioned it, she was gushing over you, how happy she was for the opportunity to prove herself. But she said you turned down the chance to come to Munich."

Aubrey's heart sank. "Jesse, I— I can explain."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Aubrey's stomach tightened. She hadn't wanted to think about Munich, let alone discuss it with him. "I... I wasn't sure at the time. We had agreed to take this time apart, to grow separately and figure things out, remember?"

"I remember," he said, his frustration evident. "But Aubrey, we could have gone together, used this chance to really see where we're at, work on things."

Aubrey sat up, the tension in her body growing. "I know, but... I didn't feel ready to make that decision. I thought staying here, focusing on myself, would give me the clarity I needed."

"You thought staying in the desert, in the middle of nowhere, was going to help you find clarity?" he echoed, frustration clear in his voice.

Aubrey clenched her fist around her phone, her breath catching in her throat. "I didn't think it would be right to complicate things more. I needed space to figure out what I really wanted."

"Or are you just running away?" His voice grew sharper.

The words hit Aubrey like a punch to the gut. "That's not fair. I'm not running away. I'm trying to make something of this place, to build something real."

"You're using the motel as an excuse," he shot back. "You're avoiding dealing with our problems, with your problems.

Aubrey closed her eyes, feeling tears prickling at the corners. "You don't understand," she whispered.

"Maybe I don't," he replied, his voice softening slightly. "But I want to. I want to understand, Aubrey. I just feel like you're shutting me out. And you've been shutting me out for a while now."

There was a heavy silence between them, filled only with the sound of Aubrey's uneven breathing. "I... I need to go," she said finally, her voice trembling. "I can't do this right now."

"Fine," he said, his tone resigned. "But we can't keep avoiding this. We—"

Aubrey ended the call without another word and tossed the phone onto the chair beside her, feeling the tears spill over.

Aubrey let the silence settle uncomfortably in her soul.

"Running away," he said. Stacie said something along those lines as well hadn't she?

Why does the accusation cut so deep? She stared at the dark phone screen, hoping it would somehow offer an answer. It didn't.

Her chest tightened. The sun was still warm, but inside, all she felt was cold. Moving felt like the only option. She needed to do something—anything—to escape the weight of that conversation.

She looked around, there was still so much that needed to be done. Fixing this place was meant to represent fixing herself. The walls could be repaired, cleaned, rebuilt. Her relationship with Jesse? With Stacie? That was different. Messier. But the motel? The motel was real, something she could transform with her own hands.

She quickly got dressed and before she even realized it she was up and moving. She moved towards the bed of her truck, and she grabbed the tool that called to her the most. The sledgehammer was familiar, grounding in a way. She gripped it tighter, holding on like it was the last bit of control she had.

She wasn't doing this for the motel. This was about everything else. Jesse's words echoed,"You're running away."

She pushed his words aside.

"Things don't look as perfect as you think they look or they get hard and you fucking leave right?"

She pushed her words aside.

You all think I'm avoiding?

As she approached the basement, her confidence wavered. Why now? Why here? She didn't have a good reason. It was impulsive, even reckless. But she couldn't stop herself.

At the door, she paused, her grip tightened around the handle of the sledgehammer.

Avoiding? How's this for avoiding?

One hard swing was all it took, and the lock shattered. The door groaned open, revealing the darkness inside. Aubrey stood there, her breath shaky. She knew this was both running away and trying too hard to correct her course. But she stepped into the dark anyway.

Determined to confront the darkness she had avoided for so long,

She leaned the sledgehammer against the door, making sure it stayed open. She pulled out her gun from her purse and fumbled for the flashlight on her phone. "If there's anyone here, you should know I'm armed!" Her voice wavered, reverberating off the damp, cold walls.

The basement was a shadowy, oppressive space, smelling of mildew and decay. The air was thick and stifling, each breath feeling like it was pulling more life from her and she felt a little lightheaded but shook it off. She could push through it.

The light from her phone's flashlight cast eerie shadows on the walls as she stepped cautiously inside. Her grip on the 659 S tightened, finding comfort in the grainy hard plastic grip. Multiple doors loomed in the darkness, each leading to unknown horrors.

As she ventured deeper, the air became denser. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The room felt like it was closing in on her, draining her strength with each step.

Out of the darkness came Aubrey Posen, clad in a shimmering latex one piece suit. Her golden hair tied high, her lipstick bright bold red, her blue eyes sparkling with sadism. And her smile was wide, mischievous.

This was a version of herself she was not ready to face. This was a mistake she realized too late.

Aubrey fell into a panic at the sight and her vision blurred as she struggled to maintain her footing. Her legs gave way, and she crumpled to the floor, her phone slipping from her grasp and smashing against the concrete but her grip on her handgun remained steady.

The woman was once again in the desert, her body was bare to the elements. The Mojave blew a gentle and nurturing wind that felt warm and safe. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be engulfed by the loving touch of the desert. The sand against her bare feet was delightfully coarse and she felt as if she was personally acquainted with each single grain. From the sand rose a Coyote. It was familiar and nostalgic and she was so happy to see him.

"It's you," the woman in the desert said with almost childlike glee.

The Coyote looked up at her, its eyes glowed intensely, last time when she reached out for it, it bit her. This time when she reached out to it, it let itself be petted. It closed its eyes affectionately as the woman scratched behind its ears. She was overjoyed how it was reacting to her touch, though she would gladly let it bite her again if it so wished.

The Coyote thrusted its nuzzle towards her hand and from its maw dropped something into her open hand. It was small, but it was surprisingly heavy. She leaned in, peering at the item the Coyote gifted her. It was a small dentalium husk, ivory colored, porous and cone shaped.

"Try not to lose it again," The Coyote whispered as he disappeared. The woman in the desert watched the shell closely.

"Aubrey! Aubrey, wake up! Oh my God! Aubrey wake up!" Stacie's frantic voice sliced through the haze and the desert disappeared.

Stacie Conrad knelt beside Aubrey, her face etched with fear. Gently, she opened Aubrey's eyelids, searching for any sign of consciousness.

"Stacie?" Aubrey's voice was faint, her vision swimming.

"Don't move, don't speak!" Stacie's tone was commanding but trembling. "Oh God… I've called for an ambulance!"

"Ambulance?" Aubrey's voice slurred, confused.

"You are going to be fine Aubrey!" Stacie said hurriedly as she willed the tears not to fall from her eyes. She looked away trying her hardest to will the ambulance to arrive.

I'm going to be fine? Why wouldn't I be?Aubrey thought as she stared warmly at Stacie before she passed out again.

The hours that followed were a blur of disjointed images and muffled sounds for Aubrey. One moment she was engulfed in darkness, the next, harsh fluorescent lights pierced her vision. Voices floated around her, distant and indistinct.

"Give me her chart!" Stacie's voice was sharp, a mix of authority and desperation. "Dr. Patel, I need it now!"

"Dr. Conrad, you can't be her doctor! It's unethical!" Dr. Patel's voice was firm yet concerned.

"I don't care! Give me her fucking chart!" Stacie's voice cracked, raw and trembling with emotion.

Aubrey stirred, the faint familiar voice dragging her back to the world of the living. "Stacie?" Her voice was weak, barely a whisper but it was enough. Stacie let go of the chart and rushed to her side. Her heart pounded as her trembling hands grasped Aubrey's left hand.

"Aubrey, listen," Staie cleared her throat, not letting her weakness come through. "You need to authorize me to access your records."

Aubrey's eyelids fluttered open. "Okay," she murmured, her voice thin, fragile. "She can access my records."

She was barely conscious, confused but as she heard her friend argue with her colleague, she felt something in her hand, she tried glancing down from where she sat but her vision was still a bit hazy. Whatever it was she had on her right hand was small, cone shaped, and from the little she could see it was white. It was the small dentalium husk, the same one from her childhood, the same one from her dreams.

Try not to lose it again. The Coyote said and with what little strength she had, she held it tightly in her hand. Aubrey wouldn't lose it again.

"You heard her—verbal consent!" Stacie argued, her words spilling out in a rush.

Dr. Patel sighed, and handed over the chart. His professional facade softened as he watched Stacie—this wasn't just another patient to her.

Stacie's eyes were wide with fear but she tried to maintain her composure and focus. "Bree I need you to listen to me, you suffered from hypoxia," Stacie explained gently. "That means your brain and organs didn't get enough oxygen. It can happen in spaces like that basement—poor ventilation, toxic gasses. You almost…" her voice wavered, her professionalism cracking as the unspoken words hung heavily between them.

Aubrey waved a hand weakly, as if brushing off the seriousness. "Who's… looking after… B.B.?"

Stacie froze, her face paling. Aubrey had nearly died, and her first thought was her daughter's safety. "Alma's with her," Stacie whispered, her voice cracking.

"Good." Aubrey let out a slow sigh, her eyes fluttering shut again as exhaustion took over.

Stacie watched her for a moment longer, then, shaking, she handed the chart back to Dr. Patel. Reality crashed over her in waves, the weight of everything crushing her. Dr. Patel had been right, she couldn't be her doctor. She couldn't even be her anchor right now. Her legs felt weak as she left the room, retreating to her office.

She collapsed onto the floor, she pressed her knees to her chest as tears streamed down her face. The thought of losing Aubrey had nearly destroyed her. And Aubrey's first concern was for her daughter? Not for herself? Not for Jesse, not even for her. Relief mingled with guilt, fear with love and it was too much. She felt like she was about to explode.

Dr. Patel entered her office, and hesitated for a moment, he'd never seen his colleague like this. Dr. Conrad was usually so cheerful, and quick with wit and ready to say anything to cheer anyone up, and if she trusted you enough, it might be slightly inappropriate. To see her like this was jarring and he felt a bit out of his depth, still he steeled himself and sat on the floor next to her.

Stacie, without looking up, knew it was him and said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Dr. P."

"I think you and I both know what that was about."

Stacie gave a hollow chuckle as she looked up and wiped her tears. "Yeah…" His presence was a silent comfort.

"You know your friend will make a full recovery," he said, a little stiffly but trying his hardest to be reassuring.

"I know," Stacie said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Patell nodded. "Sorry I'm not trying to patronize you, I know you're a skilled physician I don't mean to imply—"

Stacie chuckled, a little sadly, "That's not it."

"Then why—"

"Because it's her," Stacie said, like it was as simple as that. Because it's Aubrey. That's all.

"Then may I ask why?"

"Because I was scared, Dr. P," Stacie admitted. "I still am."

"What's scaring you, Dr. Conrad?"

"Dr. Patel," Stacie took a deep breath and after a second of steeling herself said, "I-I'm in love with her..."

She had finally said it out loud. As soon as the words escaped her lips she felt like this immense weight being lifted off her shoulders, she felt impossibly lighter. She was almost happy and yet incredibly sad because it all felt hopeless. She turned to meet his gaze and gave him a heartbreaking smile. "And I don't know what to do."

She looked ahead, her eyes unfocused. Dr. Patell didn't say anything, there was nothing he could say, he knew that all he could do right now was be here for his friend.

Stacie carefully walked back into the hospital room where Aubrey rested. She was on oxygen and fluids. Apart from the Hypoxia she was also severely dehydrated. Aubrey looked so frail in Stacie's eyes. Partly out of habit, and partly because she needed a brief distraction from the painful sight, Stacie grabbed her chart. She obviously knew what it said already, she'd been keeping careful track.

"Stacie..." Aubrey's voice was weak but clear, pulling her attention immediately.

Stacie was at her side in an instant. "I'm here, Bree," she said softly, her hand instinctively brushing a strand of hair away from Aubrey's face.

Aubrey's eyes, though tired, focused on Stacie. "I'm..." Aubrey started, her voice catching, "I'm sorry about—"

Stacie's lips parted to respond, but she quickly stopped herself. "No, it's—" she began, shaking her head, unsure if she wanted to finish.

Aubrey blinked, her expression clouded with guilt. "I shouldn't have—"

"Really, Aubrey," Stacie interrupted, her tone gentle but firm, "don't..."

They fell into a brief silence, both of them hovering on the edge of something unsaid. The weight of their fight, the hurtful words exchanged, hung between them.

Aubrey opened her mouth again, but her voice faltered. "I didn't mean to say…"

Stacie shook her head quickly, cutting her off. "It's fine. I'm the one that's…"

But Aubrey's blue eyes shone with something deeper, and she tried again, her voice barely above a whisper. "No, it was me… I should have... I shouldn't have..."

Stacie couldn't help but interrupt once more, her own guilt simmering beneath the surface. "Really, Bree, let's not—"

They both fell silent again, each trying to speak but constantly stopping themselves and each other, the apology half-formed and caught in their throats. Neither wanted to let the words out. The apology was there, understood, but incomplete.

Aubrey sighed softly, her body sinking deeper into the bed. She looked up at Stacie, her gaze filled with vulnerability. Stacie's phone buzzed, the sound breaking the tension like a crack in the quiet room.

Stacie fumbled for her phone and saw Jesse's name flashing on the screen. She hesitated before answering, knowing it was bound to be an emotional conversation. She looked up at Aubrey and whispered more to herself than anything. "It's Jesse."Why the hell is he calling me?

Aubrey's eyes widened. "He must… be worried, we—"

"Want me to answer?" Stacie interrupted, her eyes still fixed on his name on her phone.

Aubrey groaned inwardly, and with a cautious nod said, "Yeah, could you-"

Stacie nodded and took a deep breath before answering the call. When his face appeared on the screen, she saw the exhaustion etched deep into his features—tired eyes, scruffy beard, worry lines that hadn't been there before.

"Stacie, I got a missed call from your hospital, I've been trying to call her for hours!" Jesse's voice was rough, laced with frustration. "What's going on?"

Stacie shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the hospital room. "Her phone broke when she collapsed. It's been… a lot." She took a deep breath. "Aubrey had an accident, Jesse. She's okay now, but it was close."

Jesse's face went pale. "What? She collapsed? What happened?"

"She went into a basement—one that had been sealed for years. There was no ventilation. She nearly suffocated, but I found her in time," Stacie explained, keeping her tone calm but measured, like she was talking to a patient's family. "She's stable now. She just needs rest."

Jesse's face crumpled with a mix of shock and relief. "Why didn't you call me sooner? Why am I just finding out now?"

Stacie frowned, Because you are the last person on my mind right 's chest tightened. "I didn't want to worry you, Jesse. She's stable, and… well, I—"

Jesse rubbed his face, trying to process everything. "Stacie, I need to talk to her. Please. Just let me see her."

Stacie looked at Aubrey, she took a deep breath and stepped closer, holding the phone toward her. "Do—do you want to talk to him?"

Aubrey blinked, her tired eyes flicking up to meet Stacie's. There was hesitation in her gaze—she wasn't ready for this. Reluctantly, Aubrey took the phone, her fingers trembling as she held it up. Jesse's concerned face filled the screen. "Jesse?" Her voice was barely audible.

"Aubrey, oh my God! Are you alright? What happened?"

Aubrey looked up, pleading with Stacie,Don't leave me alone.

Stacie gave her a small nod, though every fiber of her being wanted to leave, it felt wrong to listen to their private conversation.

"My phone… broke," Aubrey said softly, her exhaustion evident. "I'm fine now. It was just an accident."

Jesse's voice cracked, but he held himself together. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Aubrey nodded weakly. "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, I just woke up."

Jesse sighed, rubbing his eyes. "It's OK, can you… please stop thinking you have to handle everything alone."

Aubrey smiled faintly, but her eyes were heavy. "Yeah. I'm sorry for worrying you."

Stacie, standing quietly to the side, watched the conversation unfold. The way Aubrey's voice softened when she talked to him—there was still care, still a connection.

She couldn't take it anymore and quietly slipped out of the room, her heart heavy, and leaned against the wall. Dr. Patel who was quietly conversing with one of the nurses on duty noticed his colleague and walked over with a knowing look.

"What will you do?" he asked.

Stacie sighed, feeling strangely relieved and calm, "I'm going to enjoy whatever time I have left with her..."

Stacie walked on past her colleague, her stride reluctantly determined.

Dr. Patel was a calm and collected man, studious and of science, some might say he was cold and detached. But really he's just reserved and when he first came to this hospital he fully expected to be labeled as such again but instead on his very first day, the very first person to speak to him was Stacie Conrad, she hadn't minded his coldness, his serious demeanor, she just welcomed him into the fold like she'd known him all his life. While initially that puzzled him, over time he just grew to accept and eventually enjoy 's presence in his life.

But he'd seen his friend suffer quietly and not so quietly this whole week. After seeing her breakdown in her office and open up about her feelings for the woman he just had enough and asked, his voice louder than it had been in a long time.

"Why? Why keep doing this to yourself?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."Because I'm tired of missing her, and because I'm a coward.

Stacie sat at her desk, staring at the notes in front of her, but the words blurred together. Her mind kept drifting back to the hospital room, to Aubrey lying there, pale and fragile. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the image. The paperwork seemed meaningless compared to everything that had happened today.

She rubbed her temples, sighing heavily. Her phone buzzed on the desk, Jesse's name lit up the screen again. Stacie hesitated for a moment before answering. The last thing she wanted was to talk to him, but she couldn't ignore the call.

"Hey," she said, keeping her voice steady.

"Stacie, hey, umm….how are you holding up?"

Seriously?"Um, I'm hanging in there. What's up, Jesse?"

"How…" He sighed, appearing to pull himself together. "How is she really? Aubrey always puts up a strong front so I can't tell if this is… I can't tell if she…"

"She's going to be OK. It was serious but we were able to get her stable. We're keeping her overnight to keep monitoring her levels, but since it doesn't look like she's had any severe damage to her lungs, she'll be discharged tomorrow

"Will you-" Jesse started to say but Stacie knowing what he was about to ask cut in, this was something she had already decided long ago.

"Yeah I'll be taking her home, that way I can look after her myself."

"Perfect! I'm so relieved to hear that Aubrey. And I've been meaning to thank you for everything you've done for her since…" He trailed off.

Stacie's eyes she had a nervous breakdown after having a miscarriage and you neglected her for months leaving to grieve alone?

Jesse cleared his throat and continued. "I'm just glad to know that she's in good hands and taken care of because… I was about to book my flight out there but my boss is basically telling me that if I go I might as well not come back. Apparently my contract…"

He kept talking but Stacie couldn't hear him anymore. She felt her grip on the phone tighten. A sudden wave of anger washed over her, and she had to fight the urge to you fucking kidding me? Your wife collapsed! Who gives a fuck about your contract? She needs you here, beside her. Can't you see what an incredible woman she is? Can't you see how lucky you are, you stupid, selfish—

"Stacie?" Jesse's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "Are you still there?"

She blinked, shaking herself free of the daydream. "Yeah… yeah, I'm here," she replied, her voice sounding more distant than she intended. "Sorry, it's just been a long day."

"Yeah, it really has," Jesse said, oblivious to the tension in her tone. "Listen… since I can't come over, do you think you could convince her to take a break from the motel? At least for a while longer, until I can get some time off and head back? I don't think she should be handling all that stuff alone, especially after what just happened."

Stacie clenched her jaw, biting back the frustration that was bubbling 're her husband,she should be here. She shouldn't have to wait for you to figure out how to care. She couldn't hold back anymore, she needed to say something.

"Jesse, she needs you," Stacie said gently but firmly, though the restraint was clear in her tone. "I get that you have responsibilities, but… this is your wife we're talking about here. She needs you here, holding her hand, and telling her it's going to be okay."Or are you going to make the same goddamn mistake twice?

"I know," Jesse's voice cracked. Guilt and frustration bled through. "I know, Stacie, but when I talk to her it feels like she doesn't want me there. I uh… we— I said something that day I probably shouldn't have said. And I just feel like the biggest asshole on the planet right now. I can't help but think that this is all my fault, that if I hadn't—"

Stacie's eyes widened as realization dawned. In a way Jesse was just like her. She too had been less than kind. In a way it felt like it was her fault that Aubrey was in the hospital right now, and the weight of guilt fell on her shoulders and she found herself relating to him.

"But what can I do, Stacie? I tried talking to my boss and he's just… anyway I'm stuck here, and I hate that I can't just drop everything. I want to… God, I want to. You have no idea how much I hate this."

Stacie closed her eyes, taking a slow does care, she reminded 's just a spineless idiot.

"Fine… I'll talk to her," she said, her voice now more measured. "But you know her. She's stubborn."

Jesse chuckled softly on the other end of the line. "Yeah, she is. But if anyone can get through to her it's you. Thank you, Stacie. I really appreciate everything you're doing. I don't know what we'd do without you."

The words landed awkwardly in her ears, the gratitude feeling ? What we? I'm the one who doesn't know what to do without her,she thought.I'm the one terrified of losing her. I'm the one who almost lost her mind because we hadn't spoken all week. But instead, she swallowed the words and nodded as if he could see her.

"Yeah… well, I'll take care of it," she said, her voice tight.

They said their goodbyes, and Stacie ended the call, letting the phone drop onto her desk with a soft thud. She leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling, trying to keep the anger from swallowing her whole. The image of Aubrey lying in that hospital bed played over and over in her mind.

He doesn't see her the way I do, she doesn't understand how much he's taking her for closed her eyes, wishing she could tell him everything, make him see the truth. But she couldn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and focused on what mattered, getting Aubrey through this, even if it meant pretending like everything was fine. At least for now.

It was late in the evening and visiting hours were over. But Stacie didn't have to worry about that. She called Alma and told her she might be coming home late and Alma reassured her that B.B. was already tucked in for the night. Her heart ached for her daughter because she couldn't sing to her like she always did but… she just couldn't leave Aubrey just yet. She walked over to Aubrey's hospital room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Aubrey was half asleep, half watching the crappy reality show about unrealistic reality. Her right hand still gripped the small husk tightly, she wasn't going to let it go. And her mind was in everything that happened today. What she saw in the basement, it had to be a hallucination due to a lack of oxygen in her brain but maybe that was a half truth. Maybe she had been avoiding, and maybe she took the accusation a little too personally. She smiled softly to herself, as she thought,one step forward two steps back.

Stacie walked into the room and casually grabbed her chart again, pretending to read it.

Aubrey looked up, immediately waking up, her eyes shining, she'd been alone in this room for what felt like hours now.

The soft hum of the machines and the fading sunlight cast long shadows across the room. Stacie glanced up and examined Aubrey. Though still pale, she was more alert now, and Stacie felt a flicker of relief. The worst was over.

Clearing her throat, Stacie broke the silence. "You're going to be discharged tomorrow," she said, her voice steady but soft. "I took the day off to make sure everything's in order."

"Compassionate leave?" Aubrey whispered with a sad smile.

Stacie smiled, remembering that night vividly and nodded. She hesitated for a moment, a little too swept up in the memory but pushed herself out of it and said, "Also I talked to Jesse."

Aubrey blinked, processing the words slowly. "You talked to Jesse?" she echoed, tired but curious. Stacie could tell she was bracing herself for whatever came next.

"Yeah," Stacie nodded, stepping closer. "We both agreed—you're coming home with me. At least until you're strong enough. No arguments, Posen"

Aubrey's brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to grasp the shift in the conversation. Stacie didn't let up.

"And B.B. misses you," she said, her tone softening. She saw Aubrey's eyes light up, that familiar warmth coming back, even if only briefly.

"B.B. misses me?" Aubrey asked, her voice fragile but with a faint glimmer of hope, like she needed to hear it to believe it.

Stacie swallowed hard, holding back the overwhelming sensation of love and sadness that threatened to spill over. She smiled gently and nodded. "Of course she misses her Auntie Bree."

And… I missed you,Stacie thought, but the words stayed locked inside, too heavy to let out.

Aubrey gazed at her quietly for a moment, as if searching for something in Stacie's face. Stacie wondered if she was pushing too hard, forcing too much on her.

Aubrey's hand focused on the texture of the small husk, it felt both coarse and smooth. And Aubrey's lips curved into a small, tired smile.

"I'd love to come home with you," Aubrey said, her voice soft but sure.

Stacie exhaled, the tension that had been sitting on her chest finally lifting. "Good," she said with a matching smile. "Because you weren't getting a choice." She stepped closer, her voice softening. "Get some rest, Bree. I'll take care of everything."

Aubrey nodded slowly, her eyes drifting closed for a moment before fluttering open again. "You always do," she murmured, her smile lingering, though weak.

Stacie needed to touch her, to offer reassurance but really she's the one that needed it the most and she reached out and gently squeezed Aubrey's hand.

Aubrey looked down at her hand, the contact felt sudden and warm, and she couldn't believe that she'd spent a whole week without her. Without hearing her voice, seeing her smile, and without her casual touch that made her feel lighter than air.

Aubrey squeezed Stacie's hand a little weakly and caressed her with her thumb gently. She needed this. She had been desperate for this. She had pushed herself as hard as she could cleaning up the motel in record time, using the pressure washer, bathing in the sun naked. All of it was a form of her avoiding, not just herself but the fact that she missed… no craved her touch.

"Will you be OK on your own tonight?" Stacie whispered.

Ask me. Please ask me to stay and I'll climb on this cramped hospital bed and I'll hold you all night. Just ask me.

Aubrey had completely blanked on the fact that she would spend the night in the hospital room alone. She hated sleeping alone, and here, with the hum of the machines and the nurses with their incessant rounds, the very idea made her miserable. But what other choice did she have?

"I'll be fine, Stacie, go home. B.B. is waiting for you."

Stacie's heart sank, and she gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded. "Alright Bree, get some rest, I'll be back early to discharge you and take you home." Stacie turned around and started to walk away.

Aubrey, seeing her retreat, couldn't help herself and said, "But… could you stay a little bit longer?"

Stacie stopped in her tracks and casually glanced out the window, there was only a skeleton crew and it was looking like it was going to be a quiet night.

If only she hadn't touched her hand… now that small taste of affection left her yearning for more. And Stacie Conrad had been selfless long enough.

Stacie whirled around and taking off her lab coat she gently climbed into the small hospital bed.

"Sta—" Aubrey started to say, surprised by the wonderful gesture. This was more than she had asked for, hoped for and deserved. And her heart fluttered as she felt Stacie's body pressed against her.

"Shh." Stacie gently shushed her as she carefully pulled her closer. "I'll stay, until you fall asleep."

Aubrey, her eyes closed relishing her touch, whispered, "Will…"

Stacie knew exactly where she was going with this. "B.B. 's with Alma, she's tucked in, she's fine Aubrey."You need me right now… And I need you right now.

"Oh.. OK." Aubrey could feel whatever tension there was left in her dissipate and she allowed herself to succumb to the warmth of Stacie's body. She would sleep tonight, more peacefully than she had in days.

Stacie couldn't sleep, she just lay there, holding Aubrey, quietly waiting for her to fall asleep. Touching her was both soothing and delightfully painful. She knew this was a form of masochism of the worst kind. That night she made a quiet promise to herself. This would be the last time.

Stacie woke up in her bedroom feeling a little hollow, her body felt heavy with exhaustion. Yesterday they brought Aubrey back home, and she spent the entire day looking after her, and making sure she was resting peacefully. But the emotional toil of the last few days weighed heavily on her. The bags under her eyes felt heavier today, a physical reminder of the sleepless nights. She yawned, rubbing at her eyes as she made her way downstairs, her mind still foggy from the weight of everything.

But when she reached the bottom step, she froze.

Aubrey was up and moving around the kitchen, just like she always had, albeit slowly, and carefully. The sight of her, still weak but determined, sent a rush of conflicting emotions through Stacie's chest. Relief, worry, and frustration tangled together, but what stood out most was how natural it felt—like some piece of their routine had snapped back into place.

On the kitchen table sat a fresh cup of coffee, steam curling up in the morning light.

"Aubrey, you're supposed to be resting," Stacie said, her voice tinged with worry as she crossed the room.

Aubrey looked over her shoulder, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I am," she said softly. "Making coffee is restful for me." She gestured toward the mug sitting on the table, the one clearly meant for Stacie.

Stacie's gaze lingered on the cup. It feels like it's been ages since she'd had real coffee. Aubrey had always said she deserved better than instant coffee and if she got something from Starbucks or McDonald's, she would just be comparing it to hers. So she went without.

The sight of the steaming mug made her heart clench. She grabbed it carefully, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. It smelled heavenly. It smelled like all the mornings they'd spent together. It smelled like life was falling back into place.

She took a sip and paused, the taste both familiar and slightly different. "It's good… but it's different, stronger maybe?"

Aubrey nodded, her fingers lightly tapping the counter as she pointed toward the Bialetti espresso maker. "Wanted to try it the old-school way. Hope it's okay."

Stacie's eyes drifted to the magnificent La Marzocco espresso machine, the same machine Aubrey had basically lusted over, now sat unused in the corner. Aubrey avoided looking at it, and Stacie didn't need to ask why.

Stacie sighed, her concern bubbling back to the surface. "Aubrey, seriously… you're supposed to be resting. You shouldn't be up and moving around, let alone making coffee."

Aubrey gave her a look, half-amused and half-exasperated. "I'm fine, Stacie. I'm not running a marathon, I'm just making coffee." But there was something tired in her voice, something that told Stacie she wasn't as fine as she wanted to believe.

Stacie's eyes softened, but she couldn't help the frustration that crept into her voice. "You collapsed a few days ago, Aubrey. I don't care how 'restful' making coffee is for you—you're supposed to be taking it easy. Please." That frustration in her voice turned into a plea.

Aubrey's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue. Instead, she gestured toward the kitchen counter. "I packed you a lunch bag. Hope that's okay. No cookies today, though."

Stacie looked at the lunch bag, neatly packed and sitting on the counter, and her throat tightened. It looked so normal, so much like what Aubrey used to do before their falling out. The sight of it, so simple yet so full of love, nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Life made sense again.

She set the coffee down, her voice softening as she stepped closer to Aubrey. "You really shouldn't have…"

Aubrey smiled faintly, the lines of exhaustion visible in her face, but she waved Stacie's concern off. "It's nothing…"

Stacie hesitated, torn between wanting to fuss over her and the overwhelming gratitude that Aubrey was standing here at all. She reached out, gently touching Aubrey's arm. "It's not nothing," she whispered,it's everything.

Aubrey's smile grew a little, and she nodded, her tired eyes meeting Stacie's. "I'll rest, Stace. I promise. But let me do this for you. I need to feel… normal again."

Stacie nodded, biting back the surge of emotion. "Okay. But after this, you're going to rest. Deal?"

"Deal," Aubrey said, her smile warm, though faint.

Stacie picked up the coffee again, taking another sip, letting the familiar taste and the comforting presence of Aubrey settle her soul.

"Stacie?" Aubrey spoke up softly, almost bashful.

Stacie looked up from her coffee cup, "hm?"

Aubrey gulped and whispered, "I'm sorry…"

Stacie's eyes glistened with surprised for a second before they softened and with a small, relieved smile she said, "Me too Bree."

For the first time in a long while, things felt right again, even if just for now.

To be Continued...

Notes:

This has been a rather paradoxical chapter. If you've read Snowdrift, the chapter called Before meant to convery a sense of dread. This one somehow has captured both a sense of dread of things to come, while simultaniously conveying a sense of the aftermath. Does that make sense? It's both the calm and the aftermath? Not sure if that even makes sense. I initially dreaded this chapter, something about it made me uncomfortable, maybe it's because there's no high, even in the sweetest moments there just... this quiet despair.

Also whenever Jesse comes into the fold I dread his interactions, he can't speak to me the way Aubrey and Stacie speak to me. I keep leaning towards making him this callous villain and he's really not, he's just clueless, think of the fight or flight reflex, people often forget that there's a third one, freeze. Jesse doesn't fight the way Stacie does, he doesn't fly the way Aubrey does, he freezes, unable to commit and it's just so inherently human, and flawed.

My favorite moment in this chapter, was probably Dr. Patel, the poor guy just got caught up in this drama and he's actually suffering a bit by seeing his friend the only person that welcomed him in so much pain, to see him break away from his coldness and speak up I thought was cathartic. Also the moment in the hospital bed lol.

What about you? What was your favorite moment in this chapter? Please leave a comment if you want, they are super encouraging. Thank you so much for reading it means the world to me.