Chapter Text
Katya wakes up from a dream in which she was falling, eyes pop open and breath caught in her throat. She pants a little from the sudden scare, placing her hand on her chest, then on her forehead, which is pounding like someone’s trying to break into her skull with a knife. She says her worst habit is not knowing when to stop drinking, but that’s a lie. She always knows when to stop, she simply chooses not to.
Upon realizing that she is naked, she pulls the white comforter up to her chest and closes her eyes, letting her arm fall on her face. Maybe, if she stays still, the ache and the nausea and the smell will go away, she just has to breathe in and out very calmly and it should be… Even worse. She lifts her arm and opens one eye, only to be nearly blinded by the sparkle of sun that’s invading her room. How rude. Daylight can stay outside. She turns her head to the side, grunting, hoping to find a more comfortable position where her eyes are away from the blinding spot chiming in through her blinds (how ironic), but she can’t keep them closed because it feels like they’re going to fall off her face.
It’s okay, she tells herself. Open your eyes slowly and maybe we can fix this. Great plan. Can’t go wrong. Slowly, her pupils are exposed to the light reflecting on the white wall and they burn, but that is only one of the reasons why she wants to scream. The second one is a beautiful stranger lying next to her, snoring quietly and sleeping softly. Softly and naked. Oh boy. This is probably the third day this week she’s woken up with a hangover and having to kick out a one night stand, which is a pathetic, yet frequent scenario in her life. God, how long has it been since she let herself go down the drain like this?
Then it hits her.
She checks her phone just to be sure, but something inside of her already knows. Today is December fifth. She hasn’t seen Trixie in exactly a year today. And she needs to kick the stranger out of her apartment because she can’t tolerate another one night stand seeing her cry.
…
Things with Trixie had been absolutely perfect, like they were in their own little heaven. Around this time last year, Katya decided it was time to ask the kind of question that you don’t get asked every day. December fifth would be the day, she had decided, because that’s when they first met. And she’d ask it at the same restaurant where they had their first date. In fact, Katya had not only called the restaurant to make the reservation three months before the big day, but she also planned to do the whole night over in detail (photographic memory, a gift never gone underappreciated), including the same waiters, same orders, and same background music. Only this time there would be a ring.
Romantic, right? Romcom, soap opera worthy, right? Completely impossible to say no to, right?
Wrong.
Katya washes her face in the hot water of her shower, hoping the rest of last night’s drunk attempt of makeup will be gone soon. She rubs her cheeks with some random facial soap she got at 7 Eleven and lets the water run all over her, dripping from her hair and splashing at her ankles. She thinks too much about that night and she hopes she can wash her thoughts away today, just like she’s been trying to do every day for the past year. It never works, but she’s working on her expectation issues. Her therapist says she should be more hopeful after all, and this is the only thing she can hope for. To forget.
She hops out of the shower and dries herself with a towel she finds on the laundry pile because she forgot to bring one. She doesn’t slide her hand across the mirror because she doesn’t want to see her own face like this, with puffy eyes and red cheeks. She told herself she would never cry over a girl, yet here she is. Tragically hungover and alone in the middle of her bathroom, late for an event which she doesn’t want to attend. She folds the corner of the towel under her armpit and walks to her room, letting the steam out of the bathroom when she opens the door.
And talking about doors, maybe she should lock hers more often because there’s a girl in her room going through her vanity like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday morning. Katya shakes her head and looks again, making sure this isn’t her brain playing a trick on her because she would recognize this blonde anywhere. Before she can say something, though, said blonde turns around with a MAC lipstick on her hand.
“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” Trixie starts. “Is this where my new Chatterbox has been all this time? Do you have any idea how long my mother and my sister have been looking for it?” She shakes her head and slips the lipstick into the pocket of her wool coat. “Not cool.”
“What the fuck, Trixie? How the fuck did you get in here?” Asks Katya, coming closer in a fit of rage. She might be sad over her, doesn’t mean she wanted a meeting like this. Especially with her not dressed.
“I have your keys, you idiot. Even if I hadn’t, anyone could since you leave the spare under your doormat...” She sniffs, then furrows her brow. “Why does literally everything in this room, including you, smell like whiskey?”
Katya doesn’t answer. “You’ve been drinking.”
“No,” Katya rushes to defend herself, crossing her arms.
“That wasn’t a question. You have been drinking.” Trixie rolls her eyes. “Okay, I just wanted some fucking lipstick, but apparently I can’t stay out of it, can I? You know I don’t mind the girls, I know you’ve been sleeping around. I don’t care, you’re single, go ahead. But you can’t sink back into drinking, Katya. I’m fucking serious.”
“You invaded my apartment and now you’re telling me about bad habits?” Ironizes Katya. Trixie makes that pouty face she always does when she’s mad.
“Keys, Katya! Keys are not an invasion, I went to law school, I know that!” Trixie yells, even though that may or may not be a little made up. She sighs. “You know what? I’m not leaving. I was gonna just take my lipstick and go, but I changed my mind. Get dressed, we’re going for a walk.”
…
It’s sunny in New York and it hasn’t snowed yet, so it’s cold and pleasant for a walk. There’s a mother pushing her kid’s trolley, a guy in his mid-twenties wearing running shorts to walk his pit bull, a straight couple holding hands and drinking some Starbucks. On that note,
“Ugh, coffee would be nice,” Katya says. “Haven’t eaten anything yet. Is it okay if we stop by Starbucks?” Trixie nods. They walk side by side in silence, hands in their pockets. Katya observes the small cloud of smoke coming from her heavy breathing, she doesn’t have very good lungs anymore. She looks at Trixie, who covers her nose with her scarf. The girl looks back at her.
“Have you been seeing your therapist?” She blinks, the way she always does when they are about to have a serious conversation. Bad sign. She’s changing her locks.
“Of course I have been seeing my therapist, I pay her two hundred dollars an hour, why would I…” She says quickly, furrowing her brows. Trixie removes the scarf from her mouth to show her entire semblance of disappointment and disbelief. Katya rolls her eyes, hating how well Trixie knows her. “I have been canceling for the past few weeks.”
“Katya, you can’t do that,” Trixie exclaims, crossing her arms as they stop in front of the Starbucks. “You’ve been drinking and skipping therapy! I can’t believe you.”
Katya throws her arms up. “Well, I’m sorry if I’m clinically depressed and struggling with addiction! Can’t think of anything that would have triggered that… Oh, wait!” She widens her eyes and raises her eyebrows. Trixie’s mouth falls open but closes again. She purses her lips and cocks her head a bit to the side.
“Go buy your coffee. I’ll wait here until you clear your head. You didn’t mean that,” she says, arms still crossed and foot tapping.
“Fuck, Trixie, I…” Katya starts.
“Go buy your coffee,” the blonde interrupts. “You can apologize later.”
Katya nods quietly. Of course she can’t be with a person for 10 minutes until something offensive comes out. She walks into the coffee shop and, unusually, it’s a short two-person line.
Her phone kept vibrating outside but she didn’t want to take it out of her pocket so Trixie wouldn’t see she still has the same lockscreen she had a year ago. It’s from their vacation in Mexico, a dorky selfie by the pool at their hotel. She keeps telling herself she will change her background picture but she never does. She knows she won’t.
Her phone beeps one more time, and it’s her unpleasant intern, Pearl, asking what time she’s coming into work today. She’s surprised the girl even had the energy to type all seven words without abbreviating anything because a door, a piece of paper or any other kind of dead tree has more will to live than this girl. She’s rude and “I don’t give a fuck” is her favorite sentence.
Two o’clock, she answers. Pearl sends her a thumbs-up back. The girl behind the counter calls her next.
“Hi, I’ll have a tall Americano, no sugar, double shot, and a bagel,” she says, fiddling through her purse to find her wallet.
“Anything else, ma’am?” The girl asks. She has a septum ring and a no-fucks-given attitude. Katya bets Pearl is friends with her.
“No, th…” Then, before she completes the sentence, in the same spare second that she opens her wallet, she sees the thing she’s been avoiding since last December. It’s a picture of Trixie, looking gorgeous with her hair done up and her favorite lipstick on. She looks up at the girl. “Actually, I’ll also have a tall pumpkin spice latte with a shot of vanilla, please. That’ll be all.”
“Well that sounds gross,” says Trixie, sitting cross-legged on a chair at a table behind her. “Not the coffee, but you remembering my December order,” she shrugs.
“Grosser than that is having one order for each month,” Katya says, putting her wallet away. “Look, Trixie, I’m sorry about what I said outside. None of this is your fault. At all.”
“I know it isn’t, but it isn’t yours either. It was just,” she shrugs, “how things had to be. It looks to me like you blame yourself and you said that because you got defensive.”
“Maybe.”
“Of course it’s that!” Trixie stands up. “You’ve been destroying yourself over everything that happened between us and honestly I’m just sick and tired of watching you beat yourself up because of something that is obviously not your fault.”
“Okay, but what if it is my fault?” Katya starts to tear up again and she does not need any public crying at the moment, so she swallows her tears and tries to toughen up. Trixie’s eyes look beautiful when she gets worried and her eyebrows do that thing. “Do you ever wonder what would it be like if we were still together? Because I do, every day, all of the fucking time, and let me tell you, the first thing that I see standing between then and now is me being a complete dumbass.”
“Katya, no, that’s not…” Trixie starts.
“I know you wanna talk to me and make me feel better for losing the love of my life, but…” Katya interrupts.
“Katya!”
“No, Trixie!” Katya yells.
Trixie pouts and points behind her. A guy behind the counter is holding both of the coffees she ordered and looks almost scared of her. “Sorry,” she says. “Thank you.” She hands Trixie her coffee. “Let’s get out of here before someone calls the psych ward,” she says.
…
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Katya breaks the silence. They’ve walked an entire block only quietly sipping their coffees.
“I didn’t know that was the issue. I... Didn’t know you still wanted to be with me.” Trixie taps her fingernails on her red cup.
“I don’t know if I do. I mean… It’s harder than that.” They stop at a crossroad, waiting for the light to turn green for them. Every second feels like a year. “I wanted us to be married by now, but that was a year ago. I haven’t fucking seen you since. There was no goodbye at all. You stood up and you left and that was it. That hurt me like nothing else before and, honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever suffer this much for anything again.”
Silence grows again. The little man lights up in green and they walk, heels clicking against the rough asphalt.
“We wouldn’t have been together anyway,” Trixie says. Katya bites her lip. “There’s something you don’t know about that night.”
“If you tell me there was someone else I’m turning around and leaving you alone without thinking twice,” Katya warns. Trixie smiles shyly and shakes her head.
“There was never anyone else and you know that. You know that you have always been the only one for me and I loved you more than anything. Anything,” Trixie touches Katya’s arm softly with her fingers, so softly she barely even feels it through her own black wool coat.
“Walking away as a response to being proposed marriage to isn’t the way of showing,” Katya says.
“I had been offered a job in California as a manager for the office that the firm was opening there,” Trixie spills. “I was going to tell you that night. I never saw the proposal coming and I didn’t know how to react because I wanted to take that job so much. It was the one thing I had been waiting forever since I entered DelRio.”
“Are you serious?” Katya asks.
“Yes, I fucking am. For seven years, ever since I was an intern, I was put through hell in that office trying to prove that I was good enough. And then one day Bianca just made my dream come true,” Trixie explains, then sighs. She looks dreamy, Katya can almost see the reflection of the sun shining above the salty Californian waters on her eyes.
“You loved me more than anything but you chose your job over me?” Katya asks. “That makes everything a lot better, thank you very much, Beatrice.”
“No, Katya, stop,” Trixie says already running after her, who paced up in front of her. Katya was visibly crying, visibly hurt, and visibly angry.
“You told me you wanted to talk to me today and I let you, but I didn’t have to. You say you care about me, you’re worried about my drinking, but at the same time you come here and tell me your job, which you hated for ten years of your life, was your choice over building a life with me?” They stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Katya doesn’t bother drying her tears or trying not to make her ugly crying face, she wants Trixie to know she’s hurt.
“It’s not about the job! It’s about me! I chose myself, Katya,” Trixie points at her own chest. People pass them by and don’t even glance. New York is one wild ride. “It was the first choice I made in years that I made for myself and not thinking about you first.”
“You know that isn’t true. How can you say something like that?” Katya asks.
“I sacrificed every minute of my life for you, okay? But do you know why you didn’t notice? Because I didn’t mind! I wanted to! When I say I loved you more than anything in my life I mean it, but I just didn’t know that I could do better. I never had to erase myself, but I did anyway and that was bad, but it doesn’t change anything. I loved you.”
“But that wasn’t enough for you,” Katya shakes her head, tears still falling. Her hands are trembling. “Because you couldn’t live like that. That’s why you left me alone with a ring in a box. You know what? I’m glad we never got married.”
Trixie gasps. “Why would you fucking say that?”
“Because you have only used love in the past tense so far,” Katya wipes a tear from her eye.
“You don’t understand, do you?” Trixie lets one single tear escape. “Everything is different now.”
“Sometimes I wish I had never met you,” Katya says. “I loved you with everything I had but I can’t afford this anymore. But I can’t stop either. You ruined me.”
“You don’t mean that”, Trixie responds. “You don’t mean that about never having met me.”
“What if I do?” Katya asks, crossing her arms.
Trixie shakes her head. “I know you don’t. How do I know that, you ask me?”
“I actually didn’t ask about anything,” Katya sniffs.
“I know that because it’s still so automatic for you to stop here to get me flowers that you didn’t even realize it,” Trixie says. Katya turns around and goddamn she’s right. They’re in front of Sasha’s, the best florist in town. “And I know that because you took about three steps back while we fought because that’s what you always used to do when we argued. You bought me flowers and an ugly happy fiftieth birthday card.”
“I hate you,” says Katya, pouting.
“You couldn’t if you tried,” Trixie says. It’s true. As much as Katya hates everything that has been happening since last year, no matter whose fault it is, she could never hate Trixie. She could never feel anything else other than love for that psycho lawyer she found for herself, but even when we love someone forgiveness is a difficult step. Especially when you don’t know who you’re trying to forgive yet.
Katya shakes her head, turns around, and walks into the flower shop, where Sasha greets her with a smile. “Well, haven’t you been out of my radar!” The florist makes sure to stop watering the roses to give her a hug. “It’s been a long time, girl!”
“It really has, I’m so sorry… But to make up for that, I’ll have a dozen of your prettiest stargazer lilies,” Katya smiles. Sasha claps her hands together.
“Oh, these are Trixie’s favorites, aren’t they? Special celebration?” She asks as they walk to the back of the store and Sasha removes her green gloves.
“Not really, no. Trixie… We aren’t together anymore. It’s been a year,” Katya confesses. She could spare her the bummer, but she just spent ten minutes crying on a sidewalk. She’s bumming everyone out today. Sasha looks at her with a certain pity in her eyes. Katya’s glad she didn’t give any more details.
“Are these for another special woman, then?” Sasha raises her eyebrows, smiling to break the mood.
“Actually, they are for Trixie,” she smiles. Sasha looks at her as she picks out the flowers.
“Whatever mess you made, these can always fix it, trust me. I’ll make the prettiest package you’ve ever seen, I’ll put a bow on it and I won’t even charge you for it,” Sasha winks. Katya lets out a little laugh. “She’s gonna love them.”
Katya nods. “Yes, she will.”
...
Trixie smiles at the flowers and takes them to her chest in a hug that makes them a little wrinkly and wobbly, but Katya doesn’t care. Seeing Trixie like this again is more than she could have ever asked for, even if they aren’t on the best terms. She remembers the whole deal with the stargazer lilies.
It started on their first date when Trixie told her she loved looking up at the stars and thinking about how she thought they were conspiring in her favor. She always told Katya, when things got rough, to look at the stars for a second until they shined back at her - it meant they would be there for her, conspiring in her favor, against all other odds. The next day, Katya walked by Sasha’s flower shop and saw the lilies on the window. She ran in and bought them immediately, then took a cab straight to the building where Trixie worked and barged into the office looking for her, only to find her at the copy room with toner on her face. On their second date, they went stargazing.
“Maybe you just need some starlight in your life right now,” Trixie suggests, smelling the flowers and smiling. “You’re just not seeing things very clearly. I bet you’ve been working your ass off and doing extra hours.”
“And I’m about to get promoted,” Katya agrees. She throws her empty coffee cup in the trash, along with Trixie’s.
“Because you needed something to focus on since there’d be no wedding,” Trixie completes. Katya nods. “I say I lived for you, but that’s the thing, you see. You lived for me as well. And when I wasn’t there anymore, there was nothing left. We were both in this a hundred and ten percent.”
“That’s why I don’t get how it got so bad.”
“Honey, that’s exactly why it got so bad!” Trixie says. “There’s a lot left from us. Feelings don’t just go away but you can’t do this to yourself anymore. You’ve always been so much more than just mine.”
“Yeah, but that’s the thing. Now that I don’t have you here anymore, I can’t see anything else on myself other than the woman who let the love of her life get away,” Katya sighs.
“You didn’t let me, though. I just went. You couldn’t have stopped me even if you tried, I’m sure of it.” Trixie stops walking. “It’s not like I wanted to leave, it was more like I had to.”
“I’ll never understand that,” Katya says.
“Well, try. It was not your fault, and it wasn’t mine either, but I feel like there’s a lot to process, so let’s just forgive each other anyway,” Trixie suggests. “I don’t even care about you forgiving me. I just want you to forgive yourself.”
“And how do I do that? I don’t want to let you go,” Katya wipes a silent tear from her eye. “And there’s just too much. Too many things involved, too many feelings. Don’t ask me to forget you or any of the shit we’ve been through.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. I want you to be happy without me the same way you were with me.” Trixie places her hand on Katya’s shoulder. “I want you to let yourself have this, for me. Ask Sasha out. Take a vacation. Fire that stupid intern of yours. Quit drinking. Stop making this your fault when it’s clearly not. Take a break.” She smiles. “Look at the stars.”
“You’re so kind to me,” Katya says. “Thank you.”
“You can thank me after you’ve gotten better,” Trixie pinches her cheek. She smiles and runs her thumb over Katya’s cheek. The familiarity doesn’t even hit Katya, who has her eyes closed until she remembers what day it is today. Then, her joyful heart just slowly squeezes all of its colors out. She feels a rush of cold air inside of her chest just as she thinks about never getting to feel that again. Trixie stretches her neck up over Katya’s shoulder. “There’s a guy selling popcorn over there. Will you wait here a minute? My body doesn’t function without any popcorn in it,” she laughs.
Katya nods, suddenly unable to speak, overtaken by the sadness of realizing her worst nightmare is real. She stands still on the sidewalk, looking down.
“Katya! Hey!” Someone shouts in the distance. She looks up only to see Trixie’s sister, Farrah, a tiny splash of pink waving right at her. Katya smiles and Farrah signals her to come closer.
Katya looks up at the gates and reads the sign she prefers to avoid but goes ahead anyway. The grass needs to be cut and she’s glad the heels of her boots aren’t too high. Farrah stands quietly beside a tree.
“Hi, there,” she says and hugs Katya. “I guess I should have expected to see you here today. I see you’ve brought flowers.”
“Stargazer lilies,” Katya responds with a smile. Farrah holds her breath for a second as tears form in the corner of her eyes. “Her favorite.”
“Of course,” she agrees. “You haven’t… Come here much, have you?” Katya shakes her head.
“I don’t think it’s hit me yet you know. I just…,” she says as she puts the flowers down and then puts her hands in her pockets. She widens her eyes when the tips of her fingers feel the plastic and wrap themselves around it. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She pulls the lipstick out. “She left it at my apartment. I thought you guys might want it back since it was her favorite.”
Farrah holds her hand up to her mouth. “Oh my God, Katya, I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” She sighs. “Thank you so much. Jesus, I thought she had lost it somewhere… Thank you.” She approaches Katya and hugs her tightly. Katya smells the strawberry scent coming from the girl’s hair and it’s not fair how certain things remind her of Trixie so much they feel like a punch to the stomach.
“I also have something for you,” Farrah says as she opens her purse and pulls out Katya’s apartment keys with Trixie’s Barbie keychain stuck to them. “Something told me I should bring them with me today,” she laughs, wiping her tears.
Katya laughs. “Yeah, I had a feeling about the lipstick as well.” She holds the key close to her heart. “Thank you.” She doesn’t feel her heart beating anymore, only the warmth that has spread over it when she saw the keychain. She bought it for Trixie when she gave her the keys to her house on their fifth month anniversary.
“How have you been doing?” Farrah asks, pulling her straight out of the memory of Trixie jumping on her lap upon receiving the keys. Farrah crosses her arms with her sister’s lipstick still in her hands, and she’s gripping it so tightly her fingertips have turned white.
“You know, I thought I was doing fine, but then I woke up today and… I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve been skipping therapy, I’m still trying to deal with the guilt and…” she sighs. “I might just take a break and take some time to look at the stars,” she says, then laughs. Farrah smiles along.
“I hope you know we never blamed you, okay? It was not your fault. The other guy was drunk, he was way past the speed limit. No one could have predicted it,” Farrah places her delicate hand on Katya’s shoulder.
“I know that, but… If I hadn’t proposed to her, she wouldn’t have left in a rush and everything would have been avoided.” Katya shrugs. “I feel very responsible for everything.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m sure that’s not what she’d want. She’d want you to be happy, Katya. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for my sister.” Farrah suggests. “You can’t blame yourself forever.”
Katya nods, looking up and letting the tears slide across her face, smiling a little bit because their voices are so, so similar if she closed her eyes she’d think it’s her girlfriend, right there with her again. “You’re right. You know, I’ve had a very similar conversation earlier today,” she smiles. “I just need some more time, I think.”
Farrah smiles back. The New York Marble looks like a small patch of heaven, with the sun beaming through the trees and butterflies all around. It smells like street popcorn and Trixie’s Chanel perfume. “Do you want to sit down on that bench and maybe talk a little bit about this?” she asks. “There’s not a lot of people who understand. I think we can help each other.”
“Sounds perfect. Thanks, Farrah,” says Katya as they start walking in the direction of the wooden bench, which stands peacefully on the shadow of another nearby tree. Not once does Katya look down after leaving the flowers. She already knows what’s written on the gravestone way too well.
Beatrice Marie Mattel
1989 - 2016
She has loved the stars too fondly
to be fearful of the night.