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“Do you know…for a long time, I didn’t want children.”
Maya had barely opened the door when she heard Carina’s voice from somewhere in the apartment. Frustration swelled because she’d wanted to be alone. She’d hoped to be alone, away from Carina’s anger and Carina’s insistence that something was wrong.
Nothing was wrong. And every time Carina suggested it was, a tiny voice in Maya’s head started whispering what if she’s right?
Maya very much wanted to silence that voice. She wanted to kill it.
But apparently Carina was home, sitting in the dark, talking.
“Sorry, what?” Maya said, trying to keep her voice even. Trying not to turn around and walk out the door.
It was late. But she wanted a run. Another run. She’d been running all day. All week.
I’ve been running every day of my life…
“I didn’t even want to meet Sophia,” Carina continued, as Maya wandered further into the dark kitchen.
She found Carina seated at their table, a bottle of wine by her left hand and an empty glass on her right. In between a square box sat untouched. A very familiar square box.
Maya was at a loss. She had no idea what her wife was talking about and she didn’t feel enthusiastic about finding out. Except there was something in Carina’s tone, something in her face that gave Maya pause.
Carina wasn’t even looking at as she was speaking, her eyes cast down at the box in front of her.
“Sophia?” Maya asked, hovering awkwardly, keeping her distance.
“Arizona’s daughter. It’s part of why we broke up. Well, that and she chose her ex-wife. People do that, you know? They don’t choose me.”
There was no sadness in her voice, there was almost no emotion at all, but the words caused an echo of another time and Maya swallowed hard.
I love you and I choose you forever
Despite wanting to run, despite wanting to keep moving, Maya sat down at the head of the table, opposite Carina.
“I wanted a baby,” Carina continued, “I wanted to give birth, to have that experience. But somehow, I never saw past that…I never wanted to or worried about it much. And then I met you and it was like…it was like the clock started, you know? My patients always talk about the biological clock and I always thought it was silly. But it’s not. It’s so loud, louder than I thought possible.”
Carina tilted her head to the side. She looked strung out, though Maya could tell that the wine bottle was sealed. The glass was clean too.
“I started picturing the after, beyond just a baby. Beyond just giving birth,” Carina seemed to be speaking only to herself. “And I saw birthdays and swimming lessons. But mostly I saw you…it almost made me desperate. It did make me desperate. You and a bambino of our own. A family of our own where no one would leave and everyone would stay? It made me feel crazy, Maya. The want.”
Maya knew she needed to say something. She knew she needed to find words, but she couldn’t. They were gone. She felt so empty. Hollow.
“All I want to do is drink,” Carina laughed, her eyes drifting to the wine bottle, “but I could be pregnant, so I cannot drink. It would be funny, no? We conceived a baby in the fire station…”
That was the last time they’d touched. Maya lowered her head, willing away the memory because she didn’t want to think about Carina’s body, about Carina’s warmth. She didn’t want to admit that without it, the clouds rolled in. That without it she felt like a ghost.
“I don’t know where you are, Bambina,” Carina finally looked up, her gaze clear, purposeful. “I miss you. Every day I miss you. For sixth months I’ve missed you. But you are not here. You are gone. You left me too.”
The word cracked something deep inside. A hammer to a nail. A fissure in the ice. Maya turned away, unable to look at Carina’s pain.
“It took my mamma two days to die” Carina said, her voice still void of emotion, “I watched the whole time. The way her breath sounds became more and more shallow, I saw the moment her heart stopped beating. And I feel like I’m watching you die right in front of me, Maya. It feels like you’re taking me with you because if your heart stops, I’m afraid mine will too.”
She stopped talking, which forced Maya to raise her head. Carina stood up, her focus on the unopened pregnancy test.
“I want so many things,” she whispered, “I want so many things for us. That’s why I took a pregnancy test with Vic, it’s…”
“You took a pregnancy test?” Maya exhaled through her nose, anger brewing just below the surface.
Apparently, Carina no longer cared if Maya was part of the process or not. Apparently, she no longer wanted Maya anywhere near…
“I didn’t look at it,” Carina was still annoyingly calm, “I threw it out before I could see the results because I wanted you with me. I want you with me. But I don’t know where you are. I just never thought you’d leave me too. You’d think I would be used to it by now…”
Carina shrugged and turned away, disappearing into their bedroom.
In the dark all alone, Maya felt paralyzed. She no longer wanted to run or punch or scream. She had no idea what she wanted. Carina had gutted her, she’d stripped her naked and flayed her skin and there was nothing left.
Nothing at all.
She didn’t think before joining Carina in the bedroom.
Carina had already changed, her tank top and those ridiculous patterned pyjama pants bringing with them unwanted wistful longing.
“I think about death,” Maya said. She knew it was the wrong thing to say, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was too tired to maintain a filter anymore.
Carina sat down on the bed, though her expression did not change. The firm line of her mouth, the furrow of her brow, Maya knew that she was likely digging her own grave by saying anything out loud. That Carina would call her unstable and tell her to get out.
But the exhaustion…
“I think about death all the time,” Maya continued, “from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep. Because I can’t figure my way out of this one, Carina. I can’t make any of it work. And the only thing that makes me feel less…less insane…less like the walls are closing in, is death.”
A horrible silence descended, a thick, endless crushing silence that only ended when Carina released a low sob. She pressed her fingers to her mouth and Maya could only watch helplessly as she winced, as her chin shook, as tears welled and then dripped down her cheeks onto her lap.
Muscle memory brought Maya closer to the bed. She sat down next to Carina but didn’t try to touch her. Carina had made it very clear that she didn’t want Maya anywhere near her.
“I don’t know what to do,” Carina said, her voice shaking, “you are in so much pain and you are so far away and I don’t know what to do. I…I love you so much, Maya…I don’t know if you love me too anymore, but…”
“Carina, of course I love you.”
Maya practically blurted the words, horrified that they were here. That she’d somehow brought them to this moment.
“Then why won’t you fight for us? For me?” Carina asked, “Because I will fight for you every single day, my love, and I used to think you would do the same for me. But now…why won’t you fight for us?”
The question lodged itself in Maya’s head, pushing away the clouds, pushing away some of the anger. Her thoughts were so crowded, she couldn’t seem to organize them, to make sense of them. She didn’t know where to start. What to do first. What to do next.
But how had she let Carina slip away from her? How was Carina not the first and the next and the last?
Maya didn’t think before pulling Carina into a hug. She froze almost as soon as she had her arms wrapped around Carina’s body, but then Carina was hugging her too, her hands fisted into the back of Maya’s shirt.
“You wouldn’t let me touch you,” Maya whispered against Carina’s shoulder, “I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”
Carina shook her head, sniffling. “I knew if you did, I would forgive you. I would let everything go because it would be easier than keeping you away. So much easier. I used to think you made me strong, Maya. Now…now I think you make me weak, and I am so mad at you, but I am so in love with you, and…”
With her face hidden in Carina’s neck, Maya finally allowed herself to stop moving. To stop running. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Carina’s shampoo and tightened her grip just as Carina’s fingers tangled in her hair.
The touch shattered her resolve. She’d lived a lifetime without affection, without hugs, without the warmth of another person’s body.
A slap on the back.
A fist bump.
A thumbs up.
And then Carina hugged her. Held her. Carina kissed her and stroked her hair and memorized her bones with her fingertips. Carina taught her what it was to feel loved. Cherished.
To be Carina’s beloved…
To feel like she could lay down and rest and be safe because Carina’s lips and her knees and her elbows were armour that Maya could not survive without.
She’d almost forgotten. She’d almost forced herself to forget.
They lay down, still locked together, their bodies pressed so tightly that there was nothing between them, only skin and muscle and air.
Maya wanted to make promises. She wanted to tell Carina that everything was fine, that the clouds would go away, that she had everything under control.
But Carina’s hand dipped under her shirt, her palm lay gently on Maya’s back, and Maya couldn’t lie. Not when she felt Carina’s pulse against her lips, and Carina’s heart against her chest.
She couldn’t lie here. Not in Carina’s arms. Not when there was every chance that it wasn’t just the two of them anymore, that they’d made something that day in the showers, that tiny spark of hope…
“I’ll fight for you,” Maya whispered, to her wife, to their baby, “I’ll fight for us.”
Carina didn’t respond. The fingers in Maya’s hair scratched lightly at her scalp.
The tears were still trapped inside. As were the words and the promises and the apologies. But they seemed closer to the surface now, closer than they had been in months.
“Do you want to take the test?” Maya asked.
Carina shook her head, her cheek brushing against Maya’s.
“Okay,” Maya breathed, holding Carina even closer, “okay.”