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“I’m sorry.”
It was a phrase that frankly, Anne was getting tired of hearing so often. Not that she didn’t appreciate her girlfriends’ efforts to apologize more, but to Anne it was beginning to read more like a reflex. Like right now, as Marcy stared at her with wide, terrified eyes, as though Anne might just bite if those words hadn’t left her mouth.
“It’s okay,” she muttered, disappearing into the kitchen to retrieve a dustpan and sweep up the shattered glass. Even Sasha, fearless, resolute Sasha, would regard her like she was a ticking bomb if she so much as sneezed around Anne. It made her wonder whether they really were afraid of her. Afraid that she’d up and leave them for any silly little thing. Which was silly, really.
Maybe it would be bothering her less if she ever noticed them apologizing to each other.
On days where their pasts came back to haunt them, Anne would come home to her girlfriends dancing together in the living room, clinging to each other like a stray gust of wind might blow them apart at any moment. Sasha would be curled around Marcy, who had their nose buried in the junction between neck and shoulder. There would be no music, just two bodies swaying beneath a sunbeam as specks of household dust flitted around them. Anne would get changed in their bedroom before sneaking downstairs to lean against the doorframe, and listen. For hours, sometimes. Neither ever said a word.
Even when Sasha was the first to wake up in the middle of the night to console a panic-stricken Marcy, not once did Anne hear those two words pass between them. When Anne was the first to wake, Marcy’s fists would be gripping her nightshirt, forehead pressed to her collarbone, whispering tearful apologies into the fabric. However, when she found herself in Sasha’s arms in the dead of night, Marcy would whimper, and Sasha would cradle their head to her chest, and that would be all.
By the time they were all lounging on the couch, watching a movie at low volume as an excuse to cuddle (not that they needed one), Anne was deep in thought. Marcy was snuggled into her side, playing one of her games, and Sasha had his arms around them both. Her head was lolling onto Marcy’s shoulder, and she was snoring softly.
“Why?” Anne finally asked, unable to take more intrusive thoughts of her own.
“Why what?” Sasha grunted, stirring from her half-awake state.
“Why am I the only one who still needs apologizing to?” She could feel her girlfriends stiffen on either side of her. Shaking out of their stupor, Marcy was the first to speak.
“Annie-” she started, but Anne was already regretting the thought ever leaving her head.
“Nevermind, it’s stupid. Sorry.”
“It's not stupid.” Marcy brushed Anne’s bangs aside as Sasha ducked down to press a kiss to her temple. “But, um, what do you mean by that?” Anne worried her bottom lip, trying to decide exactly what she meant.
“I just… do you really think I'm going to leave?”
“No,” said Marcy at the same time Sasha whispered, “Never.” The same answer, neither convincing. Anne slowly unraveled herself from them, feeling the red string pull taut as she stood. A rattling breath left her lungs, leaving her room to speak.
“Even after everything, I chose to stay because I loved you. I love you both so much.” There was a brief rustle of movement from the couch. Two hearts chasing after hers, like they’ve always done. Anne took another step out, arms crossed over her chest.
“I don’t know what else to do to convince you that I want to stay.” She coiled tightly into herself, trying to ignore the presence of two from behind her. Unfortunately for her, they were fairly skilled at making themselves difficult to ignore.
“Anne.” Sasha’s voice was firm, and warm, and safe. Anne oh-so wanted to sink into that warmth. Marcy’s cool fingers curling around her bicep, gentle like waves begging her towards the deep, were no less enticing.
“You don’t need to convince us of anything.” They were breaking Anne’s walls with as little as a touch, a breath, a few gentle words. A thought far off in her mind tutted at the unfairness of it all. She spared a glance at Marcy, whose downcast eyes were unreadable in the lamplight. “All those times I've said I'm sorry, I did it because I thought you wanted to hear it.”
“And after all those years with no apologies, I thought I had some catching up to do.” She felt Sasha shift from behind her, saw her gently ruffling Marcy’s hair.
“I don’t need you to apologize to know that you’re sorry.” Anne already knew, all too well, how badly they wanted to atone. Every too-tight hug and lingering kiss was another secret unraveled. But the fact that the three of them had gotten as far as they have, together, was a grand testament to their efforts. She thought back to Sasha and Marcy swaying together in the living room, with nothing but silence between them. “You two seem to understand that well enough when I’m not around. Didn't you hurt each other, too?”
“Well, yeah, but-” Sasha bit her lip, his eyes pleading for Marcy from over Anne’s shoulder. Marcy, thankfully, picked up on the hint.
“Sasha and I just communicate differently. It doesn’t mean that we love you any differently.” A hand, she didn’t know whose, slipped through her curly hair. “We definitely don’t love you any less.” With that comforting thought, Anne finally allowed herself to fall apart between them, leaning heavily into Sasha’s shoulder as she hiccupped.
“I’ve already forgiven you for everything back then. The little mistakes you make now aren’t going to make me walk away.” One of Sasha’s arms wrapped securely around her waist. The other stole Marcy from Anne’s side, effectively trapping Anne between them.
“Well that’s good, because if you did I would just come after you.” Anne chuckled from where her lips were teasing Sasha’s neck.
“Stalker.” Sasha pinched Anne’s cheeks between her fingers, angling her gaze upwards.
“You’re looking better already,” he grinned. Anne just rolled her eyes and turned her head to kiss Marcy instead, who mumbled a soft oh! against her lips. They parted with a squeal as Sasha tumbled backwards, pulling them both back onto the couch.
“You’re a brat,” Anne laughed as she sprawled on top of Sasha, pulling Marcy close to her chest.
“And you’re spoiled,” she retorted, wrapping his arms around them both. Marcy squirmed in Anne’s lap until their head was slotted beneath Anne’s chin. Her fingers reached out until they were intertwined with Sasha’s own.
“If you ever need anything from us, you can tell us,” she said, and Sasha nodded in agreement. Anne cradled both their heads in her hands, her heart full to bursting.
“I will. Thank you.” Marcy’s forehead rested against hers, and Sasha’s nose nuzzled into her hair. It was far from perfect, with Anne leaning at an awkward angle into Sasha’s armpit and her leg falling asleep under Marcy’s weight, but to them it was everything.
“I love you,” both Sasha and Marcy whispered in unison. Now that was something Anne would never get tired of hearing.