#i meant to end this fic after duff's guest left

[sodalitefully]

Cat!Slash Part V

(Like when your boyfriend is a little too close with his best guy friend and you keep getting cockblocked because they can't even be in the same room for a second without getting distracted and making elaborate inside jokes and kissing each other on the mouth.)

=^^=

“Oh, by the way, I have a cat, he’ll probably be around,” Duff mentioned as he unlocked the door.

“A cat? Why – Oh! You have a catpet?” She sounded amused, a little incredulous. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

"Oh?" Duff was more focused on trying to yank the key out of the lock – and on her breasts pressing against his arm – than he was on the conversation.

"I mean, a hard-living rock 'n' roll guy like you?” She fingered the padlock resting at his collar and let her shiny pink nails trail down his sternum as he guided her over to the well-worn leather couch.

"Guess you have a hidden soft side, huh?" Going off of the way she dragged her palms up and down his torso, inching ever closer to his cock, this was a turn-on. "You seem tough but you have a soft spot for your sweet little kitty, is that it?" She scooted up onto Duff's lap, and he reached for the hem of her shirt but she wasn't finished talking: "What kind of catpet do you have, anyway?"

“Well...” Duff's eyes flicked up and to the right, and she turned around to see Slash looming behind her, all 5-foot-10 of his wild hair, his bare, pendant-laden chest, and his near-silent sock feet.

She startled and shrieked, not expecting a panther – or anything really, she didn't hear him creeping up the hallway to investigate moments before. Slash laughed out loud, leaned over to drop a kiss on Duff’s hair, then proceeded to the kitchen still snickering.

“Slash!” Duff protested, because now his guest was upset, but despite his tone he was wearing an amused, affectionate grin. “Hey, c'mon, I’m sorry, he didn’t mean to scare you he was just checking you out, a newcomer in his territory, you know? You can’t be mad at him for it.”

“Are you serious – !" She wasn't buying Duff's reassurances, but she didn't get the chance to finish her complaint before Slash's disembodied voice cut her off from the kitchen.

“Duff! Did you finish the leftover pizza?”

"Yeah, like a day ago, sorry Sweets! There’s stuff for sandwiches I think, and some beer in the back!“

The crack and hiss of a tab opening indicated that Slash had already found the beer.

"Fucker better save some for me," Duff muttered fondly. "So... Where were we?"

He pulled his guest back into his lap, and they were both happy to forget about whatever Slash was doing and pick up where they left off. Before long, her lips were on his and his hands were creeping up under her shirt.

But they were just starting to really get into it, when – "Du-uff..."

Duff dragged his attention away from her lacy bra. "Yeah?"

"Movie night tonight? They're doing a sci-fi marathon on HBO, and we have popcorn."

Duff lit up. "Yeah, of course!"

"Cool." Slash leaned over the back of the couch and pulled Duff into a sloppy kiss. The wet smack when they separated bordered on obscene.

"Come on, Slash, can't you see I have a guest! Get out of here!" Duff playfully pushed at his pet's chest, and Slash snickered, remorseless.

"Have fun..." he singsonged, swishing his tail as he retreated down the hall.

Duff turned back to his guest, still wearing that dopey lovesick grin. "Sorry about that. He'll leave us alone now."

"You know what?" She pushed Duff away and pulled her shirt back down. "I think I'd better go."

"Wait, what? Babe, what's the matter – is something wrong?"

By the time he got to his feet, she was already at the door.

"Bye, Duff." The door slammed behind her, leaving behind only the scent of cheap perfume and an air of hurt pride. Duff stared after her, not sure if he should be feeling disappointed, offended, or just confused.

"Well, shit."

At the sound of the door shutting, Slash poked his head out of the bedroom. "What's that all about?"

"Hell if I know," Duff said, mystified. "Think she'll call me?"

Slash shrugged. "Maybe.” He had nothing more to add, so he stepped over to the kitchen table and squinted at the TV guide. “Bet we have enough time to fuck before Blade Runner starts."

Duff looked despondent for about another five seconds before Slash's suggestion sank in and his mood turned around completely.

"Hell yeah, baby, come here." He reclaimed his spot on the couch and Slash practically vaulted over the armrest to join him, already purring as he made himself comfortable lying on Duff's chest.

=^^=

It wasn't until an hour later, when he and Slash were still tangled together on the couch with dropped popcorn scattered on the carpet and the TV screen flickering in front of them, that Duff had a realization during a commercial break.

"Slash, do you think she left because you interrupted us?"

"Who?" Slash was half-asleep in his arms, and it showed in his soft, sluggish response.

"The girl I brought home earlier, silly."

"Oh, her."

"But that doesn't make sense," Duff continued, "because you were about to leave us alone, weren't you?"

"I said I was, didn't I? I can behave, sometimes..." Slash sounded a little petulant.

"Of course you can, baby, I know that." Duff tried to soothe him by petting his hair, and he was rewarded with Slash's satisfied sigh. "You didn't think I was ignoring you, did you? You'd been home alone all day, I should have give you more attention – "

“Duff, if I was upset that you brought someone over, you would’ve known.”

“…That’s true.” Slash was blunt at the best of times, and could be a real pain in the ass at his worst. “You would have sat at the table and pouted until the mood was totally dead, or drank that whole six pack and not left any for me, or gone into the bedroom and tipped my basket of clean laundry onto the floor – ”

“Shut up, Duff, I get it already!” His ears flattened but Duff could hear the smile in his voice as Slash gently pounded a fist against his arm. “I wouldn’t have been that petty! Might have made some comments, though,” he admitted. “But I can’t honestly say I’m disappointed that she left, baby. This is really nice.”

Duff wrapped his arms even tighter against Slash, pulling him close against his chest and burying his face into his soft mane of hair. One of Slash's ears flicked, tickling Duff's cheek, and the movie resumed on the TV.

“Between you and me, Slash," Duff said in a hushed voice, "I’m not disappointed either.”

=^^=

[mellicose]

That Woman Over There - Chapter 17

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: Teen, for some profanity and mature themes

Word count: 4940

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11| Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

The atmosphere of the house crackled. She climbed the stairs quietly and looked in Liv’s bedroom door. She was by the bed, rocking Monty.

“Hey you,” she said, waving. “Can I come in?”

Olivia shrugged. “Baby’s asleep.”

“Would you like to go downstairs?” Connie said, walking over to caress Monty’s fluffy blond hair. He was so much like his mum.

She shook her head. “I want to wait with my son.”

Connie sat down beside her and touched her arm. “He’s asleep. You’ll rock him right out the window if you keep going like that.”

She let go in a huff. Her face was flushed, and her blue eyes were rimmed in red.

“Did you see where she went?” Liv said. “Typical of her to just run away when things don’t go her way.”

Connie sighed. “I heard her slam out of the kitchen door. That’s it.”

She looked out. “I don’t see anyone at John’s. They might’ve gone off somewhere. They went off together a lot for their shared therapy sessions when I first had Monty. I was going mad with a newborn, and she was getting drunk.” Her face was tight with resentment.

Connie touched her hand, but Liv moved it. “Livvie.”

Olivia stood up and paced in front of the bed. “She was barely around the first two months, and I swallowed it. I dealt with John mooning after her like a lovesick Borzoi. I learned to nurse alone and woke what seemed like 10 times a night for feedings, and they hadn’t come back yet. When she did, she stunk of fags and booze, but did I judge her? No. I was patient. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a baby. So I stayed quiet. But I was boiling, Connie. It hurt terribly.”

She collapsed on the bed.

“Oh, no, darling, no,” Connie said, pulling her into her arms. She thought she wept, but she was trembling with anger, not anguish.

“She didn’t want Monty. Not the commitment, nor the responsibility. She wanted everything to remain the same until she tired of me, then move on like she’s always done-”

“Olivia-”

“No, you weren’t here, Connie. You didn’t live this. I know you were going through your own hell, but…” her mouth moved, and nothing came out. She sat down. “You know when you came back a couple days back, and we were in a compromising condition?”

“You mean when you were having sex in the kitchen?” Connie said.

Liv rolled her eyes and nodded awkwardly. “It was the first time in months,” she whispered.

“It’s normal for some nursing mothers not to want sex for a while,” Connie whispered back. Liv gave her a look.

“I’ve read a lot of books.”

Olivia tugged on her blouse and bit her lip. “Part of it was hormonal, but…” again, she couldn’t get the words out. Connie squeezed her hand. Liv shook her head.

“You know, when I first got with Ella, she was just weaning Poppy. It was strange. Some weeks she was insatiable. Then, she was untouchable for a month. But I adored her, so I dealt with it. If Alex loves you, she’ll adjust.”

“You and Ella are- were different,” she said.

“Were we?” Connie said. “I don’t really think so.”

“I was there, remember? It was a team effort. You were both completely excited and present for each other and Poppy,” she said. “It was beautiful to behold.”

“It was a fiction,” Connie said. “Everything was. I don’t think Ella ever really loved me. But, since Poppy did, she stayed for a while.”

Olivia stared at her. “Again, I’m sorry.”

Connie nodded.

“Did you ever feel it, before she left?” Liv asked.

Connie shook her head. “I came up to talk about you,” she said.

“Answer the question. Please,” Liv said.

“Do you remember when we first met and you slept over my house, and we would spend time in the basement?”

“Of course. Your father had a home theater down there. We’d gorge on candy popcorn and watch John Hughes film till we passed out in the guest bedroom. It was fun.”

“You remember Halloween?”

Olivia’s eyebrow rose. “Not so vaguely.” They had just watched the Lost Boys, and ran out of potato chips to mix with their chocolate in the downstairs bar, so they decided to venture upstairs to the kitchen. Connie’s parents had been in the den, fighting viciously. Or, better said, Connie’s mother was screaming insults at her father as he half stood, half knelt in front of her, avoiding her drunken earcuffs. Connie had turned cottage-cheese white and pulled her downstairs, slamming the basement door so hard she thought it would go off its hinges. It had taken many caresses, soft words, and kisses to calm her embarrassment and anger.

Liv reddened at the memory.

“That kind of thing happened at least twice a week, but I was successful in hiding from you for months. I thought you would insist on going home immediately and think me weird, but you stayed.”

“It was horribly uncomfortable,” Liv said, “but your pain was worse. That’s why I stayed. I felt for you.”

“That’s precisely what I didn’t want you to do,” Connie said. “Stay because you felt sorry for me. Give me scraps of affection because you saw I wasn’t getting it elsewhere. It was so humiliating. So I played it cool.”

“I remember you weren’t very cool at all that night,” Liv said. Her eyes were fathomless. “Far from it.”

Now Connie squirmed. Olivia wasn’t usually so bold.

“I wanted to forget. And I wanted you to stay.”

“I can’t say I ever forgot. But I no longer cared about anything or anyone else around us for a while after,” Liv said.

Connie chuckled. “Like I said, it was a fiction. A crappy patch on a gaping void.”

Liv didn’t know exactly what she was talking about.

“It was a lie, and I knew it was, but it was so nice. I figured loving her was enough for the both of us. Why do you think I would endure such pain?”

“I don’t understand,” Liv said.

“You asked me when I knew it wasn’t gonna work out. I think I knew for years. But … I made up excuses to remain. Poppy was the most brilliant excuse, but even then, not a solid one, since she never officially shared custody with me. She was always her girl. Even when I paid the bills and wiped her butt and took her to school. She used Poppy as leverage, and I let her because I loved her.” Connie’s lip quivered, and she gave Liv a hurt look.

“Like I said before, she didn’t want Monty. She left.”

“You kicked her out, as I recall.”

“Because she shagged the next door neighbor, who is a man!” She pointed at John’s house.

“She was really drunk and angry that you didn’t ask her before starting a family. I have defended you to anyone who dared talk shit, but between us, how is that fair, huh?”

“I turned forty last year, and we had talked about it a couple times. It wasn’t a complete surprise.”

“It was surprising enough,” Connie said. “She’s barely out of university age with no job and no prospects. How could you think she was ready to play house? Birthing hips does not a mother make.”

“She got pregnant too!” Olivia said, raising her voice. She slapped her hand over her mouth and looked toward Monty’s crib. Gladly, he didn’t wake. “At least I didn’t go to the friendly neighborhood shag shack to get … up the duff,” she whispered. She gave Connie a sharp look. She knew what she meant.

“Don’t you judge me, Olivia,” Connie said. Her eyes burned with tears. “You have absolutely no place to do it. Not then, and not now.”

“You started it,” Liv said. “Coming here with your itty bitty shorts and your flower fame,” she said, eyeing Connie’s dress. “Alex is right.”

Connie blinked incredulously. “Exactly what is she right about?”

“That you lash out and complain at a bit of ordinary heartache, but you’ve got it all. A wealthy father. An improbable art career. A jet setting life. You flew half the world over to see me on a whim. Not everyone has that luxury. Not even me,” she said, referring to her middle-class parents.

Connie stood up slowly. “I thought the argument was between you two?”

Olivia shrugged. “Maybe it takes a fresh pair of eyes to see certain things. We agreed on that.”

“Is this still about me not being here for Monty’s birth? You know why I couldn’t make it - John told me. I was ill. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. It was a fucked up time.”

“So you’re thick as thieves are you? Mind your heart. He’ll have another woman in his bed before the side where you slept goes cold.”

“He can do what he likes after I go. We’re adults,” she said, but her chest contracted at the thought.

“That’s not what your eyes say, Connie. You care for him. And I’m just saying be careful. He was chummy with Alex and I too, before he took her to bed. He didn’t give a damn.” Her mouth was a straight line.

“He’s not that way anymore,” Connie said.

“So, he’s changed in the last few months? He’s a brand new man, all because of you,” Olivia said, smirking bitterly. “I’ll tell you what I told Alex - don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m sorry you had to tell her that, Livvie, but I’m confused why you’re being like this.”

Olivia shrugged tiredly.

“You know what? Like I said before, I defended you when other people wanted to call you cold or manipulative or weird. I damn near spit in their face. Yet you talk shit about me with Alex, a woman I barely know? I’m a spoiled brat who’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted without any work, or sweat, tears, or blood? You know better. I struggled to learn the language I’m speaking to you now. I ate shit and slept on sofas, and floors. I traveled on piss-smelling buses and trains, away from home and comfort for months on end kissing asses and developing my craft. Daddy didn’t buy my clients, nor did he give me travel money. I busted my ass for all of my 20’s to get where I am, to prove to my father that I didn’t make the biggest mistake of my life for choosing art instead of science or politics. And goddamnit, I’m doing it,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “Don’t you blame me for having the courage to chase my dreams instead of bending to what Mummy and Daddy wanted.”

Olivia’s lip trembled.

“Did you tell Alex that? Squatting in an older woman’s house smoking hash and raiding her pantry isn’t gonna get her nonexistent work in the great museums of Europe.”

Olivia shivered as if slapped. Connie walked out to the hallway, then back in.

“And by the way, next time you have a little coffee klutch about my endless privilege with your girlfriend, tell her about that Halloween. That was my life every single day until I turned 17. I had a father too harried to be consistent, and a mother who wouldn’t look me in the eye except to tell me I wasn’t worth the birthing pains. Tell her about Ella, and Poppy, and my motherfucking empty apartment. If I’m so privileged, she can have it. In fact, here,” she said, and pulled off a gold bangle, and the ruby earrings she wore and threw them on the bed. One of them plinked on Olivia’s cheek, but she remained immobile. “She can take the rest too. See how well she can endure mi privilegio.”

🌹🌹🌹

John was speechless. He wasn’t sure he heard her right, or captured the meaning of her words.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“You were obviously in love with me. We get on really well. Why didn’t you insist on pursuing me?”

Heat flashed up his spine and exploded in his jaw. It rained harder, and the plinking above their heads turned to a dull roar, but he no longer felt cold. Her eyes widened at his expression.

“Are you gonna say something?”

The rain had washed away most of her makeup, and her face looked pale and so, so young. Regardless of what happened with Jo, she was still a beautiful child playing at womanhood. Perhaps it was a mercy on the part of fate, because otherwise…

“You’re with Olivia,” he finally said.

“You did your best to break us up at one point,” she said. “Why did you stop?”

“Because … you’re gay. You told me that ad nauseum. Eventually, I grew up and respected it.”

She shook her head, and warm droplets sprayed on his hand. “Turns out I’m bisexual. Congratulations, man. You turned me. Um, halfway turned me,” she said, and smiled.

Why did it feel like an insult?

“Um, okay,” he said. He couldn’t look at her. The food he ate was burning its way back up his esophagus.

“That’s all you got? You’re the first person I told. See, I chose you.”

He was quiet, and his silence started to make her nervous. He was never quiet, and rarely still. She slapped his shoulder.

“Talk to me!”

He swallowed bile. “What do you want me to say?” His voice cracked with emotion.

“What you’re thinking,” she said softly. He was not reacting the way she thought he would.

He tried to rub feeling back into his numb fingers, but the rain was relentless. His toes squished in his waterlogged boots. And he hurt. Like he hadn’t hurt in a long time.

“I cried for you,” he said. She put her hand over his, but he raked his fingers through his wet hair and hugged himself. “Not only because of what happened with Jo. Just, for you. Because I wanted you. I fell in love with you.”

She touched his shoulder, but he moved further away. She was no longer smiling.

“You’re so funny, and irreverent, and cool - everything I’m not. I’ll never forget the first time we met. You insulted me for no reason, all with a saucy grin. I even remember what you wore, how you did you hair. It was a legitimate moment for me.”

“I was wearing the overalls, right? With the flowered scarf in my hair,” she said. She remembered too - the way his perplexed face melted into a dazed grin, despite her sharp words. “I called you a useless football obsessed dudebro twat, and you offered me dinner.”

“I offered to cook you both dinner,” he said. “You and Olivia.”

“But mostly me,” she said, daring to touch him again. He didn’t move away, but he also didn’t react.

“Mostly you,” he repeated quietly. “What do you want from me?”

“You cried?” Alex said.

“Oh yeah,” he said, nodding. “I was so lonely. My wife left, and I had nothing. Then you moved in with Olivia. You were an actual ray of sunshine. I was smitten.”

She laced her fingers in his. “I think, my insults were partly because I thought you were … not totally gross-looking. It was a bit of a shock.”

“Not totally gross looking. Nice to know,” he said. His fingers felt cold and lifeless in hers, so she tried rubbing heat into them. It did not register in his face.

“We had our moments, right?” She moved his hand, and traced the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. It was still so crisp. So new.

“Had. Yes,” he said, extricating his hand gently from hers.

“Seriously, though - what do you think would’ve happened if we had Josie together? Have you ever thought about that? Because I have. In fact, I haven’t thought of much else lately.”

He looked out at the street with glassy eyes.

“I’ve been thinking of how, perhaps, I would’ve ended up in your house. You would’ve helped me turn your computer room into a nursery for Jo. And, maybe …” she wiped the dripping water from his jaw, “...maybe, in time, something might bloom between us. Who would’ve thunk it? Mr. and Mrs Helm, with the white picket fence and children’s toys in the garden.” She snorted.

Another wave of nausea made him shiver. She lightly caressed his neck, and he raised his shoulder defensively.

“But Jo’s gone,” he said.

“What if she had survived, though? What do you think might’ve happened?”

“She’s gone, Alex. She died. That’s what happened, and what I have to work through. I barely have the energy for that, after everything else. I don’t have any at all for what could’ve been.”

His tone frightened her, because it was not his usual gentle tone. It was firm. Final.

“I don’t know how to tell Olivia about the bi thing,” she said, changing her tack. “I don’t think she’ll be too pleased.”

“You have a life together, and a baby. The sooner you do, the better.”

“You heard her earlier. It’s her son. She chose to have him without talking to me, or waiting until we married. We’re not married now. I wonder if it even matters.”

“I don’t think it’s right to talk about her like that,” he said.

“I talk about her all the time. What’s changed?” Alex said.

“Everything,” he said, and cleared his throat. He stood up. His head was beginning to swim.

“Are you talking about Connie?” she said.

“This isn’t about her. Don’t bring her into it.”

She stood up. “I was your wingman with her. Maybe I’m entitled to something.”

“Fine. She’s not who you think she is,” he said.

“She’s exactly who I think she is. Just coming through,” Alex said. “In a day and a half she’ll be on a plane to New York, and you sir, will be a memory.” She patted him on the shoulder, thinking herself quite witty. But his face twitched with emotion. “Little Miss Jet Set will be gone, and we can get on with our lives.”

“What life?” he said.

She was surprised at his intensity. “I don’t know. Going to the pub and getting blitzed. Checking out women together. Chicken on Sunday. Monty,” she said, shrugging.

“The one where I watch you and Olivia living, then go back to my house alone?”

“If my memory serves, you’re rarely alone,” she said, and chuckled.

He shook his head. Could she be that clueless?

“I thought you knew me. Do you really think that’s the life I want?”

“You’re doing your own thing, and having fun. Better than boring uni classes and being yelled at all the time,” she said, stuffing her hands in her skirt. “Sometimes Liv feels more like my mam than my girl. I guess that’s why I like to hang out. You’re more my kind of people.”

Again, he studied her. She was truly oblivious to the pain she was causing. And, somehow, although it broke his heart again, it did not surprise him. She was so young. Could he blame her for being callous? Whatever wisp of emotion that he felt for her evaporated in that moment. They would always be connected by flesh, but no longer by heart.

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight, and kissed the top of her head. She tried to extend the embrace, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“Be honest with Olivia … or don’t. But you must be honest with yourself.”

She shrugged. He put his hands up, then started walking away.

“Hey! Where you going?” she yelled. 

“I need to be alone,” he said.

She stared after him. Her thoughts raced. She thought he would be happy to hear her news - that he would jump at the opportunity to start something with her and help her explore her feelings. She had no idea why he was reacting so negatively. Her breath was short with the cold. If he looked back at her, she would run to him. She wanted to, so much. Her eyes remained on his back, and her heart beat loudly in her ears. If he looked back at her, she would go to him, everyone else be damned …

He turned the corner and disappeared.

🌹🌹🌹

She ran down the stairs, and to her surprise, Olivia ran behind her. She put her arms around her before she ran out the door and burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. So sorry, but Connie, I’m scared,” she said, shivering against her back. “So scared…” her voice turned to a wail that made her turn and wrap her arms around her.

“I don’t feel in control anymore,” Olivia sniffed. “I don’t know what’s going on half the time, and I swear I can feel Alex resenting me. It makes the hairs go up in the back of my neck.” Her tears wet Connie’s shoulder.

“That loss of control happens after you have a child. You’re not living for yourself anymore,” Connie said. It’s a feeling she knew intimately, even though Poppy was gone. Maybe more so since she was gone.

“And what about the resentment?”

“That I can’t answer. You’ve got to listen to her, feel her out. And, if she wants to play a bigger role in Monty’s life, you’ve got to figure out a healthy way to make it work. But punishing her because of what happened in the beginning isn’t the way to earn her commitment. It will just make things worse. Have you considered couple’s therapy?”

Olivia snorted.

“What? It works to talk things through with an impartial stranger.”

“But we haven’t been together for three years. We’re not even married.”

“You’re raising a child together. I think you qualify as a couple.”

Olivia raised her head. “Did you ever do it with Ella?”

Connie laughed. “Like, every Thursday for three years. It was far more holistic approach, though. Queer couples sitting on the floor, in a circle, with a talking stick. There was lots of hash, which I didn’t smoke. You might prefer something more traditional.”

“But, you and Ella…” She wiped her eyes.

“To be fair, it was just an overglorified tea party - mostly gossip. It wasn’t useful, but Ella didn’t think psychology is a valid discipline anyway. I beg to differ. It helped me a lot in the last year.”

“Therapy?” Olivia said.

“A lot of therapy,” Connie said. “Surprisingly, my privilege didn’t matter a bit.”

Olivia winced, then wiped at the wetness darkening Connie’s dress. “Is this the dress John got you?”

“Yeah. Do you like it?” Connie said, ruffling the skirt.

“You look fantastic. I got the size right on the nose.”

“Thanks,” Connie said.

“I mean, he picked it out, it was just … he didn’t know the size,” she said, putting her hands on Connie’s waist. “I hurt you. When I said that thing to Alex at the restaurant.”

“It wasn’t directed at me. It was directed at Alex.”

“But I saw your face. It’s like the light went out of it.”

“Did you notice how Alex looked?” Connie said. She didn’t know why she was saying it. Her and Alex had to have another talk. Soon.

“I can’t even properly gauge her moods anymore,” Olivia said. “There’s always something.”

“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt,” she said, thinking back on one of the regulars at the queer hash and gossip therapy circle. The saying had stung her then. And it visibly stung Olivia now. “You’ve got to have a long, difficult talk. And possibly make some hard decisions afterward, for the good of all three of you. Pretending that everything is okay is only postponing the inevitable.”

“The inevitable?” Olivia said.

“It will be inevitable if you leave it be,” Connie said. “If you really care for her, don’t freeze her out. You’ve got to listen to what she feels, and not superimpose your own feelings over hers.”

“That’s definitely from therapy,” Olivia said.

“The language, yes. The advice is all you. You can be pretty intense sometimes, Liv.”

She pulled her to the sofa and sat down. “I try to listen, Connie, I really do. But sometimes, she doesn’t make any sense. She doesn’t want to talk about the things that are, or could logically be.”

“She’s a dreamer,” Connie said.

“An artist, through and through,” Liv said.

“She’s young, and a bit wild. Has she ever had to work for a mortgage, or a car payment?”

“I don’t think so,” Liv said, and shrugged.

“Those boring, prosaic tasks tend to bring the most passionate dreamer crashing back to Earth,” Connie said, and smiled. “It happened to me.”

“She’s in school,” Olivia said. “It’s a start.”

“I guess. But what happens if you can’t see eye to eye, even after she finishes? Is that the life you want to live?”

“You’re one to talk,” Olivia snapped.

Connie took it stride - she knew her friend. “Yes, I am. So maybe you should listen.”

“Monty loves her,” Liv said softly. “She’s really good with him.”

“But are you two good together? I know this is not a very middle class of me to say, but staying together for the children is complete bullshit. It just fucks them up mentally to grow up seeing two people who obviously don’t love each other stay together because of them. It causes an immense amount of damage.”

Olivia lay back and took a deep breath. “Okay. If Ella didn’t find someone else, would you still be with her now?” she said.

Connie stood up and looked out the window at the rain. John’s porch light was on, but the house looked empty. She missed him so intensely she shivered.

“Um…” she hugged herself. “I’m not sure.”

“So you were unhappy?” Olivia said.

“Yes. I was,” Connie said, nodding. “I love Poppy, but I felt like the bitch at the banquet with Ella, you know? Just licking up the scraps. I think it would’ve gotten old eventually.” What she didn’t say is, what if she had still been with Ella, but she met John at Monty’s birth?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Olivia said, standing and wrapping her arms around Connie’s waist again.

“No you don’t,” Connie said.

“Yes I do. You’re wondering what might’ve happened if you met John when I had Monty,” she said. Connie turned to give her a funny look.

“Freak! How?”

“Because I know you,” Olivia said. “Also, you speak with your expressions.” She pulled Connie back on the sofa. “He’s unsufferable. Like a hyperactive dog that you pity too much to slap his muzzle.”

Connie shook her head. That energy was one of the best things about him, since it took her out of herself. But she understood why Olivia felt that way.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” Olivia said. “There’s no excuse, but I have a half explanation.”

“What is it?”

Olivia pulled her hair out of the ponytail and raked her fingers through it. “Something’s changed ever since you got here. The energy, if that makes any sense. And Alex has seemed a bit more keyed up than usual. In fact, she seemed to be reaching equilibrium, but you came and boom! She’s gone again.”

Connie made a face. “How do you mean?”

“I couldn’t quantify it if I tried, Connie. She’s got something on her mind, and you somehow set it off. I felt it. When we, uh…” she waved her hand over her lap.

Connie’s eyebrow rose.

“No, not that. But she’s unquiet somehow.”

“Have you asked John?”

Olivia snorted. “No.”

“It might be a good idea. They’re close, and even if you don’t believe it, he really cares about you.” She tapped on the desk he made her, which was beside the sofa.

“But it’s horrible,” she said, rubbing her face. “To have to speak to someone else about my partner’s state of mind.”

“Talk to her yourself without fear, or talk to him. The choice is yours,” Connie said. Olivia walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water, and Connie followed.

“This is nice,” Olivia said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Being here with you. At least I’m not alone.”

Connie hugged her from behind, and despite the fact that her previous words still hurt, she hurt for Olivia more. She had no idea it was that bad.

Olivia tapped her arm. “I tried phoning her earlier, but she left her mobile here. There’s no telling when she might come back. I’m going to bed.”

“Alright,” Connie said. “I guess I should change out of this,” she said, pulling at the dress. They climbed the stairs, and Connie locked herself in the bathroom.

🌹🌹🌹

After her shower, she was walking downstairs when she heard a whisper.

“Connie?” The distilled sadness in her voice stopped her in her tracks. Olivia laid on top of the blankets, shivering in the dark. Monty slept peacefully in his crib.

“Give me a sec,” she said. She carefully put the dress on a hanger, then pulled the duvet from under her and lay beside her.

“This takes me back,” Olivia said, pulling Connie’s arms closer around her. “Oh, I put your jewelry in your purse.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Connie said.

“I deserved it,” Liv said. “You were right. I’m sorry.”

“No more sorries tonight. Sleep,” Connie said, and nuzzled her temple. They heard running footsteps, and John’s back door slammed. Olivia’s grip tightened.

“Will you stay?” Liv asked.

“Yes,” Connie said.

Olivia closed her eyes.

Next Chapter