Chapter Text
The idea came to Lucy the next morning.
It wasn’t sudden.
It had been sitting quietly in the back of her mind since the night Kate told her the truth.
But it settled into something clearer as she watched Kate over breakfast — quiet, polite, present but not really there.
Kate smiled when spoken to.
Nodded when needed.
But there was a distance.
Not cold.
Not rude.
Just… elsewhere.
Lucy recognized it now.
She had seen it enough times.
And she knew what it meant.
So when they returned upstairs after breakfast, Lucy lingered near the door instead of immediately reaching for her laptop bag.
“Kate?”
Kate looked up from where she stood near the window.
“Yes?”
Lucy hesitated briefly.
Then spoke carefully.
“I was thinking…”
Kate waited.
Lucy shifted her weight slightly.
“It might be better if we move to my apartment for a few days.”
Kate blinked.
“Your apartment?”
Lucy nodded.
“It’s not far from here. Fifteen minutes.”
She kept her tone neutral.
Practical.
“It’ll be quieter. And… you won’t have to constantly… act.”
The word sat softly between them.
Kate understood immediately.
Lucy continued, quieter now,
“You’ll have your own space.”
A small pause.
“And we won’t have to pretend all the time.”
Kate studied her for a moment.
Lucy added quickly,
“I mean— only if you’re okay with it. If you’d rather stay here—”
“No,” Kate said.
Lucy stopped.
Kate shook her head slightly.
“No, that… makes sense.”
Her voice was calm.
“Thank you.”
Lucy nodded once.
Relief flickered briefly across her face before she masked it.
“Okay.”
The announcement did not go unnoticed.
Lucy stood in the living room later that afternoon with her arms crossed as Sarah stared at her like she had just committed a crime.
“You’re leaving.”
Lucy sighed.
“For a few days.”
Christopher leaned against the couch.
“Oh, this is interesting.”
Luis smirked.
“Very interesting.”
Sarah crossed her arms.
“Barely married and already running away from us.”
Lucy rolled her eyes.
“I’m not running away.”
Christopher grinned.
“You are absolutely running away.”
Karen walked in at that moment.
“What’s going on?”
Sarah pointed at Lucy dramatically.
“She’s abandoning the family.”
Karen raised an eyebrow.
“Lucy.”
Lucy spoke calmly,
“I’m just taking Kate to the apartment for a few days.”
Karen’s expression softened immediately.
“Oh.”
Maria, who had been sitting quietly nearby, looked up.
“That’s good.”
Everyone turned to her.
Maria nodded.
“Newly married people need space.”
Christopher groaned.
“Not you too.”
Maria ignored him.
Lucy glanced briefly at Kate.
Kate stood quietly near the doorway, watching everything unfold.
Karen walked over to her and smiled warmly.
“That’s a good idea, dear.”
Kate nodded.
“Yes.”
Lucy exhaled quietly.
Then Sarah leaned toward Kate with a grin.
“Don’t let her work all day.”
Kate didn’t know what to say to that.
She gave a small, polite smile.
Lucy muttered under her breath,
“Please ignore her.”
Lucy’s apartment was exactly what Kate expected.
And yet… not.
It was large.
Minimalistic.
Clean lines.
Neutral colors.
A wide living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
A spacious kitchen.
Two bedrooms.
One clearly the master.
One smaller — likely the guest room.
Kate stepped inside slowly.
Lucy placed the keys on the counter.
“You can take the main bedroom.”
Kate turned immediately.
“No, it’s your apartment—”
Lucy shook her head.
“It’s fine.”
She was already moving toward the suitcase.
“You’ll be more comfortable there.”
Kate hesitated.
Lucy continued unpacking her things without waiting for a response.
She placed Kate’s clothes neatly inside the wardrobe.
Arranged her toiletries in the bathroom.
Set her sketchbook carefully on the desk.
Kate watched her.
Something about it felt… strange.
Lucy wasn’t just giving her space.
She was… making space.
Without asking.
Without hesitation.
Lucy closed the wardrobe and stepped back.
“There.”
Kate said quietly,
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Lucy shrugged.
“It’s easier.”
A pause.
Then Lucy added,
“I’ll use the guest room.”
Kate opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Because arguing would feel unnecessary.
Lucy had already decided.
And there was something about the way she said it—
Calm.
Final.
Respectful.
That made it hard to push back.
.....
The first few days settled into something quiet.
And distant.
Lucy left early.
Always.
By the time Kate stepped out of the bedroom in the morning, Lucy was already gone.
A note sometimes sat on the kitchen counter.
Breakfast is in the fridge.
Meeting today. Might be late.
Short.
Practical.
No unnecessary words.
Kate spent most of her time in the apartment.
Or at the college.
At work, everything felt… off.
“Kate! You got married?”
One of her colleagues nearly dragged her into a hug.
“Lucy Tara, right?”
Kate nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god, that’s huge.”
Kate smiled.
Polite.
“Yeah.”
“How is she?”
Kate paused for a fraction of a second.
“She’s… good.”
The word felt incomplete.
But she didn’t know what else to say.
Every conversation felt like that.
Surface-level.
Detached.
She returned home in the afternoon.
The apartment was always quiet.
Too quiet.
Kate placed her bag down and walked into the kitchen.
She opened the fridge.
Lucy had stocked everything.
Vegetables.
Fruits.
Milk.
Prepared meals.
Snacks.
Kate frowned slightly.
She hadn’t asked for any of this.
Lucy had just… done it.
Kate shook her head and started cooking.
Simple things.
Pasta.
Stir-fried vegetables.
Soup.
She cooked only for herself.
The first day, she had asked.
“Will you be home for dinner?”
Lucy had looked at her for a moment before answering,
“I’ll eat outside.”
So Kate had nodded.
And since then—
She assumed Lucy always did.
Lucy did not eat outside.
Not really.
She stayed at work longer than necessary.
Meetings.
Reports.
Anything to delay going back.
Because going back meant…
Silence.
An empty apartment.
And dinner alone.
Lucy had never liked eating alone.
At Tara Estates, meals were never quiet.
There was always someone.
Talking.
Arguing.
Laughing.
Now—
There was just her.
And the quiet.
So she told Kate she ate outside.
Because it was easier.
Because it didn’t require explanation.
Because she didn’t want Kate to feel responsible.
One evening, Lucy returned home earlier than usual.
The apartment lights were dim.
Soft music drifted faintly from the bedroom.
Lucy paused.
Then stepped closer.
The bedroom door was slightly open.
And through the gap—
She saw Kate.
Dancing.
Barefoot.
Loose t-shirt.
Hair falling freely around her shoulders.
Moving slowly, gracefully, like the music lived inside her.
Lucy stopped.
Her breath caught slightly.
Kate looked… free.
Not distant.
Not quiet.
Not guarded.
Just—
Herself.
Lucy watched for a few seconds.
Then immediately looked away.
She stepped back.
Careful.
Silent.
And gently pushed the door closed.
She didn’t want to intrude.
Didn’t want to break that moment.
Didn’t want Kate to feel watched.
Lucy walked away quietly.
But the image stayed with her.
Long after.
....
Evenings were the hardest.
They crossed paths sometimes.
In the kitchen.
In the living room.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“Long day?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Short conversations.
Polite.
Careful.
Lucy never stayed too long.
Kate never asked her to.
Two people.
Living together.
But not really together.
And yet—
Something had shifted.
Very slightly.
Very quietly.
Neither of them spoke about it.
Neither of them named it.
But it was there.
Waiting.
-----
The apartment had settled into a rhythm.
Not a comfortable one.
Not yet.
But a rhythm nonetheless.
Lucy left early.
Kate stayed back or went to college.
Evenings passed in quiet crossings of paths.
And nights—
Nights were the hardest.
Because silence felt louder then.
It happened on the fifth night.
Kate was in the kitchen, stirring a pan absently.
Garlic sizzled softly in oil.
The smell should have been comforting.
Familiar.
But her thoughts were somewhere else.
Cara.
They always circled back to her.
Kate wiped her hands on the towel and reached for her phone on the counter.
No messages.
No calls.
Nothing.
Her jaw tightened slightly.
Where are you?
She had stopped sending messages.
She didn’t know why.
The urge was still there.
Constant.
But something in her had… paused.
Like her mind was waiting for something before reaching out again.
Kate exhaled slowly and placed the phone back down.
The food in the pan was ready.
She plated it.
Sat at the counter.
Ate quietly.
Alone.
Just like every night.
Lucy hadn’t returned yet.
She must’ve eaten outside.
That’s what Kate assumed.
That’s what Lucy had said.
Kate finished eating, washed her plate, and went back to her room.
....
The clock read 12:18 AM when Kate woke up.
She wasn’t sure what woke her.
The room was dark.
Still.
Then she heard it.
A faint sound from the kitchen.
Metal against glass.
A cabinet door closing softly.
Kate frowned slightly.
She pushed the blanket aside and stepped out of bed.
The hallway was dim.
Only the kitchen light was on.
She walked slowly toward it.
And stopped.
Lucy stood by the counter.
Her back slightly hunched.
Hair messier than usual.
Still in her work clothes.
She was eating straight from a container.
Not sitting.
Not relaxed.
Just—
Eating.
Quickly.
Like she didn’t want to think about it.
Kate stood there for a moment.
Watching.
Something about it felt…
Off.
Lucy turned slightly and froze when she saw her.
For a second, neither spoke.
Then Lucy straightened a little.
“Oh.”
Her voice was softer than usual.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
Kate shook her head.
“No.”
A pause.
Kate glanced at the container in Lucy’s hand.
“You didn’t eat?”
Lucy hesitated.
Then shrugged lightly.
“I wasn’t hungry earlier.”
Kate didn’t respond immediately.
She just looked at her.
At the way Lucy avoided her eyes.
At how she was standing.
At how she was eating like it didn’t matter.
And suddenly—
It clicked.
“You didn’t eat at all.”
Lucy looked up briefly.
Then away again.
“It’s fine.”
Kate’s brows pulled together slightly.
“Why did you say you ate outside?”
Lucy exhaled softly.
She leaned back against the counter, the container still in her hand.
For a moment, she didn’t answer.
Then—
“I don’t really… like eating alone.”
The words came out quieter than anything Lucy had said before.
Almost reluctant.
Kate stilled.
Lucy gave a small, almost self-conscious shrug.
“I know it sounds weird.”
A faint breath of a laugh.
“I can turn on the TV, or sit with something… but it’s just—”
She shook her head slightly.
“I’ve never really done it.”
Her voice softened further.
“At home, there was always someone.”
A pause.
“So I just… wait.”
Kate stared at her.
Lucy wasn’t dramatic.
Wasn’t asking for anything.
Wasn’t even looking at her now.
Just stating something simple.
Honest.
Kate didn’t know what to say to that.
She didn’t reach out.
Didn’t move closer.
Didn’t soften visibly.
She just nodded once.
“…Okay.”
Lucy gave a small nod back.
Like that settled it.
Kate turned and walked back toward her room.
Lucy watched her go.
Then looked back down at her food.
The silence returned.
But it felt different now.
Lucy didn’t expect anything to change.
So when she walked into the apartment the next evening—
She stopped.
The lights were on.
The kitchen smelled… warm.
Fresh.
Something cooked.
Lucy frowned slightly.
She stepped further in.
Kate stood near the stove.
Back turned.
Stirring something slowly.
Lucy didn’t say anything at first.
Kate glanced over her shoulder.
“You’re back.”
Lucy nodded.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then Kate turned off the stove.
“There’s food.”
Lucy blinked.
“For you.”
Lucy stood still.
“…You didn’t have to do that.”
Kate shrugged lightly.
“It’s not a big deal.”
Lucy hesitated.
“You don’t need to—”
Kate cut her off, not sharply, just simply,
“You could’ve told me.”
Lucy stilled.
Kate turned to face her now.
Her expression wasn’t angry.
Just… direct.
“I would’ve cooked.”
Lucy looked down slightly.
“I didn’t want to… impose.”
Kate frowned faintly.
“It’s not imposing.”
A small pause.
Then more quietly,
“It’s basic.”
Lucy didn’t respond immediately.
Kate turned back to the counter.
“Sit.”
Lucy obeyed.
Almost automatically.
She sat at the dining table.
Kate placed a plate in front of her.
Simple food.
Warm.
Fresh.
Lucy stared at it for a moment.
Then picked up the fork.
Kate didn’t sit immediately.
She leaned back against the counter instead.
Arms loosely crossed.
Watching.
Lucy took a bite.
The food was good.
Simple.
Comforting.
Lucy swallowed.
“…It’s good.”
Kate nodded once.
“Yeah.”
Silence settled between them again.
But it wasn’t the same silence as before.
Lucy ate slowly.
Not rushed.
Not standing.
Not avoiding.
Kate remained where she was.
Not joining.
Not leaving.
Just… there.
The next night—
Kate waited.
She didn’t tell herself she was waiting.
She just didn’t start cooking immediately.
Lucy came home around the same time.
Tired.
Loosening her tie as she walked in.
She stopped again when she saw Kate in the kitchen.
“You didn’t eat yet?”
Kate shook her head.
“No.”
Lucy frowned slightly.
“You didn’t have to wait.”
Kate shrugged.
“I didn’t.”
Lucy didn’t fully believe that.
But she didn’t push it.
Kate turned back to the stove.
“There’s enough for both.”
Lucy stood there for a moment.
Then walked closer.
“Kate…”
Kate didn’t turn.
“You don’t need to do this.”
Kate replied simply,
“I know.”
A pause.
Then quieter,
“I just… cooked more.”
Lucy didn’t say anything after that.
Because she understood what Kate wasn’t saying.
And that was enough.
...
Next evening they sat across from each other.
Not too close.
Not too far.
The table felt less empty now.
They didn’t talk much.
Lucy asked once,
“How was work?”
Kate answered,
“Fine.”
Kate asked once,
“Long day?”
Lucy nodded.
“Yeah.”
That was all.
But it didn’t feel forced.
It didn’t feel uncomfortable.
It just… was.
Lucy finished eating first.
She stood up and picked up her plate.
“I’ll clean.”
Kate nodded.
“Okay.”
No argument.
No insistence.
Lucy washed the dishes.
Kate stood for a moment.
Then quietly said,
“Goodnight, Lucy.”
Lucy froze for half a second.
Then turned slightly.
“Night.”
A small smile touched her lips.
Soft.
Unnoticed.
Kate had already walked toward her room.
That night—
Nothing dramatic changed.
Kate still thought about Cara.
Still missed her.
Still wondered where she was.
Lucy still kept her distance.
Still careful.
Still quiet.
Still respectful.
But something small had shifted.
They weren’t just two strangers sharing a space anymore.
They had begun—
Very quietly—
To make room for each other.
And neither of them realized yet—
How much that would matter later.