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There was a quiet ache that accompanied life now.
It had likely been there forever. Since the very first time Lane had pulled her aside after a race and hissed not good enough.
Maya had tried to outrun it. She’d tried so hard that it nearly cost her everything.
Her wife.
Her job.
Her life.
And at one time, that list would have appeared in a different order. But not anymore. Never again. Because without Carina there was no life. She understood that now.
So, she’d learned to live with the ache. To acknowledge it. To accept that it was a part of her and always would be. She’d had to make a choice: fight against it or embrace it.
The fight had led to a hospital bed in Grey-Sloan. To months of PT.
The fight had led to an ankle that healed enough to let her run for exercise through the park. But not enough to let her climb ladders or carry hoses or wear 70lbs of equipment. Not enough to be an active-duty firefighter.
Embracing it had led to a new kind of peace. It had led to Carina. Their future.
But the ache was there. Always. As much a part of her as her blue eyes.
~*~
The temperature dropped well below freezing and Maya winced in pain.
She’d never believed people who claimed to know the weather based on a sore knee or a stiff shoulder. But that was before. Before the fall.
And now she knew that it was going to snow because her ankle throbbed after a long day of work and a long session with her physical therapist.
She ignored the sting, her eyes on the road, determined to get to the airport on time and in one piece. The streets were mostly empty, and it made Seattle feel deserted. Yellow light from the streetlamps guided her path, turning the snow a strange dull gold, as if the world was raining tinsel.
Which would be appropriate considering that it was midnight. Officially Christmas.
Driving to the airport alone was not how Maya had planned to spend Christmas Eve, except life had a way of being complicated. Frustratingly so.
She decided not to dwell because Carina was almost home. Nothing else mattered.
Maya still hesitated before pulling into the disabled parking spot in the lot. She rarely used her pass – on most days she was fine to work and run and work some more – but the snow and therapy had tipped her towards caution. Her ankle hurt. It made the rest of her leg feel a bit shaky. When Maya closed her eyes, she could imagine the pins and plate holding her bones together, freezing over like ice.
There was a time when Maya would have ignored her body. Where she would have seen parking so close to the door as weakness. Laziness. When she would have let his voice drown out everything else in her life.
Sometimes she could still hear him.
Lazy
Embrace the pain
Pathetic
She’d had to learn to let other voices speak louder.
Her physical therapist who warned her that if she pushed too hard, she’d never run again.
Diane Lewis who told her that ignoring the pain was far easier than living with it. Living with it took courage. It took strength. Ignoring it was the weakness.
And her wife. The loudest voice of all. The voice she had ignored, taken for granted. The voice that saved her life every single day.
I love you
We need you
Maya listened to that voice most of all. The voice she could never ignore again. The voice she never took for granted. Her favourite voice in the world.
The parking garage was frigid as Maya climbed out of her jeep. She opened the back door, retrieving her bag full of extra hats and scarves for Carina. Her trip had been so unexpected and last minute that Carina had practically run to the airport in a light coat.
Maya took Carina’s winter jacket off the seat and then stared at the one remaining object she’d brought.
She’d already taken the parking spot. Did she really need…
Eyes on me. Only on me.
Maya picked up the cane, frowning, but the cane would help her get to Carina safely. Using it was not weakness. It was strength. It was love.
There was a strange quality to the airport on Christmas Eve. Maya was far from the only person there. Even though it was so late, families stood waiting patiently, Santa hats and Christmas PJs and signs that read Welcome Home Grandma in one hundred different ways. Christmas music played faintly over speakers, florescent lights destroying any semblance of festive cheer.
Maya checked for the right arrivals gate and quickly found it, standing awkwardly next to other tired people waiting for flights to arrive. She scanned the crowd, imagining the lives of the strangers surrounding her.
The woman bouncing on her heels holding two cups of coffee was waiting for her younger sister to come home from college.
The somber man in the corner was picking up his cousin, flying to Seattle for a funeral.
When the automatic doors swooshed open, Maya stopped her fantasies, and instead pushed herself closer to the front.
It had been a very long three weeks and somehow this moment felt the longest of all. She was eager to put it behind her. Behind them.
Maya didn’t love rom-coms. She much preferred watching Tom Cruise jump out of airplanes. But as Carina appeared, as Carina caught her eye and practically started running, Maya reconsidered her opinion.
Because Carina DeLuca nearly pushing over an elderly man in her haste was oddly romantic.
Maya tried to get closer too, hampered by the jacket she carried and the cane in her other hand. It didn’t seem to matter to Carina who was suddenly there, in front of her, her clothing crumpled from hours of flying and her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep.
Still the most beautiful thing Maya had ever seen.
Carina pulled Maya to her without a word, both arms around her body, and Maya let her cane clatter to the ground so she could hold Carina close.
“Hey,” she said, keeping in a sigh as Carina pressed her face into Maya’s neck, hiding away.
When she finally leaned back, her eyes were glassy.
“Ciao, Bella,” she sniffled, her fingers brushing Maya’s cheek.
She’d looked much the same when Maya had dropped her off three weeks ago. A surprise phone call in the middle of the night had sent Carina running towards Vincenzo. And a cancelled flight meant that instead of coming home on December 23rd, she’d arrived twenty-four hours late.
Her tears when she called Maya to tell her were heartbreaking. Maya knew it was exhaustion and stress, but hearing her wife crying from some airport hotel in Frankfurt made her feel so helpless. It was a relief to have Carina back in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” Carina whimpered, her eyes cast down.
Maya shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Babe.”
“But you missed our first Christmas Eve together.”
“You’re here now. Both of you.”
Maya curved her hand around the baby bump pushing against Carina’s sweater, wondering if it was slightly bigger than she remembered. The baby was now the size of an avocado. A fact that led to Maya pausing in the grocery store to stare at the green fruit, imagining it had arms and legs and a tiny little face.
“Sorry,” Carina said again, laughing softly, “I feel like I’ve been crying for days.”
Maya frowned, rubbing her thumb beneath Carina’s eye to gather the tears in question.
“No crying on Christmas,” she said, wanting to erase the pain on Carina’s face.
Carina managed a watery grin and a shaky exhale.
~*~
Neither mentioned Maya’s cane as they walked back to the car.
Usually, Maya would insist on taking Carina’s luggage, but Carina wanted to hold her hand, and she wasn’t feeling steady enough to walk without assistance, so Maya didn’t make a fuss. She needed one hand for the cane and the other for Carina. There was no shame in it.
A past version of herself would’ve felt nothing but shame.
I can’t even carry my wife’s suitcase
The current version of herself understood that she was able to walk, and she had a wife whose hand to hold, which made everything else irrelevant.
They remained quiet on the drive home, Maya concentrating on the increasingly snowy roads, and Carina lightly sleeping, the jetlag catching up quickly. Even half-asleep she kept hold of Maya’s hand, only letting go when Maya needed to make a turn.
By the time they made it home, the world was white. It was beautiful and peaceful, and it made Maya’s ankle throb.
“Ice or heat?” Carina asked in the elevator on their way upstairs.
Maya smirked. “I think I was forced to read a poem like that in high school.”
Carina didn’t answer. Nor did she push. Maya appreciated her trust. Her belief that Maya would make the right decisions for herself. No more ignoring her problems. No more running herself into an early grave.
Before her unexpected trip, Carina had purchased a Christmas tree and set it in their living room. And then she’d had to leave, and the tree sat as a reminder that she was gone. Maya had pondered what to do for days because Carina loved decorating and this year was special. This year they had an avocado to celebrate too.
Maya recognized that part of Carina’s current sadness was caused by missing out on these moments. She so desperately wanted to make new traditions for their family. To break patterns and create magic for their baby.
But Maya was nothing if not organized and determined, which is why she had to hold back an excited grin as she opened the door and let Carina walk inside.
She heard the soft gasp and smiled to herself, silently cheering the small victory. It was nowhere near the amount of decorating Carina usually did, but there were lights around the tree and three stockings pinned to the mantel and a whole lot of fairy lights mixed amongst the tinsel.
Carina turned, teary again, her chin shaking.
“Bambina…” she sighed, but Maya didn’t let her finish.
The mistletoe was taped above their bedroom door, but Maya decided to improvise. She stepped into Carina’s space, both hands on her cheeks, and kissed her.
“Merry Christmas, my love,” Maya whispered against Carina’s lips, overwhelmed by how calm she felt. The constant chatter of her busy mind seemed to still. Her worries temporarily vanquished. There was just her and Carina. Their baby. The snow outside and the warm glow within.
Carina tipped her forehead against Maya’s, still teary. “Buon Natalie, amore mio.”
“Are you hungry? Or…”
“No, can we just go to bed? I’m sorry, I…”
Maya took Carina’s hand and guided her towards their room, stopping the apology before it had a chance to start. Carina was always somewhat frazzled when she returned home from Vincenzo. Add the hormones and the bittersweet emotions that always came with the season, Maya understood that Carina likely needed to be held and nothing more.
“Wait,” Carina said, pausing near the fireplace, “what did you put in the bambino’s stocking?”
It was a teeny tiny stocking. But Maya couldn’t stop herself when she saw it in the store. And somehow it looked right next to their bigger stockings, like it was always meant to be there.
“Your vitamins,” Maya answered, biting her lip as Carina tipped her head back in laughter.
Carina paused again as she stepped into their bedroom, looking around as if she’d never seen it before. Maya had brought Christmas here too, with more fairy lights around the windows and a miniature tree set on their dresser. While Carina usually festooned their living room tree with bobbles and ornaments, this one only held three, each one containing a photograph.
Their wedding day
Andrew and Lucia
The first ultrasound picture
Carina ran her fingers along the dresser, pausing in front of the mini tree. She didn’t say a word, but her teary nod of thanks made it clear that she appreciated the gesture.
Her quiet tour of the bedroom continued as she circled the bed and picked up her pillow, holding it to her chest.
“The pillows in the hotel were terrible,” she said, “and the ones in the hospital, well…”
“I don’t like that you slept in some crappy hospital chair,” Maya frowned, taking the pillow from Carina’s hands.
Carina shrugged, the unspoken who else is there to do it lingering between them.
Snow gathered on the windowsills, making their bedroom feel insulted, a cocoon that belonged to them and only them. There was no one else on the entire planet. They were alone. Together.
Maya cupped Carina’s cheek, kissing her, light enough that she could barely count it as a kiss. But it felt too good to be close to Carina again, too good to step away.
They separated to prepare for bed, weaving around each other as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces. Maya pulled off her jeans, and then sat on the edge of the mattress, releasing a breath as she finally took the weight off her ankle. The sound alerted Carina who stopped disrobing.
“Did you have a long day?” Carina asked, standing in front of Maya in just her sweater. It was hard to concentrate when those perfect legs were on full display. Maya lightly ran her palms up and down Carina’s thighs, needing to feel her.
“Two suspicious fires, and then Terry tried to kill me in PT, but…”
Maya lost her words. Carina had taken off her sweater and she found herself faced with a baby bump that was noticeably bigger than the last time she’d seen it. She raised her hands, her fingers stroking the soft skin, overwhelmed by the changes to Carina’s body.
“But…?” Carina smiled. Maya still ignored her.
She leaned forward, dragging her lips over the bump.
“Hi, you,” she whispered, still a little self-conscious, “did you miss me? Do you remember my voice?”
Carina’s fingers tangled through her hair as Maya imagined the tiny soul between them. Their next ultrasound was in two weeks, but Maya liked to imagine impossibly tiny arms and legs. Hands and feet. A nose. She’d never wanted anything more in her life.
It had shocked her at first. The realization.
Surly she’d wanted the medal more. The Captaincy.
Surly.
And then the pregnancy test had come back positive and Maya’s mind shifted in a way it hadn’t since Carina walked into her life.
“Of course he does,” Carina said, “he missed you so much.”
“She did?”
“So much it hurt.”
Maya looked up to find Carina staring down at her, her eyes brimming with tears that had nothing to do with her happiness and everything to do with her three weeks away.
They finished undressing, both choosing to sleep in big t-shirts and nothing more. The bed had felt so empty with Carina away, and now she was here, lying on her side with her head on Maya’s shoulder, her stomach resting against Maya, as if it was part of Maya too.
In the quiet peace, Maya decided to ask the question that needed to be asked.
“How’s your dad?”
Carina’s body tensed though she quickly relaxed as Maya dragged her fingertips down her arm before tracing patterns over her tummy.
“Stable,” Carina said, “he agreed to in-patient care. I don’t know what’s happening with the medical malpractice suite, but at least he’s back on his meds now.”
While Maya would never say it out loud, she wanted to ask why no one else in the family could have stepped in. Why Vincenzo’s brothers didn’t volunteer. The numerous cousins. She wanted to know why her pregnant wife had to fly across the world with almost no warning because her father had stopped taking his medication and nearly killed another patient. Why her pregnant wife had been forced to sleep in uncomfortable hospital chairs and take whatever abuse Vincenzo undoubtably threw at her.
“What did he say about the baby?” Maya asked instead, guessing the answer to be the cause of Carina’s puffy eyes.
Sure enough, Carina raised herself on her elbow, as if she needed to see Maya as she spoke. To make sure she was really there. Warm fingers traced the line of Maya’s jaw, the cleft in her chin, but Maya braced because Carina just seemed so sad. Heartbroken.
It was a face she hadn’t seen in a long time. In two years to be exact.
“He said I was selfish to bring a baby into the world without a father,” she said, her lip wobbling.
Maya blinked and raised her eyebrows.
“Wow,” she said, unsure how to feel about her father-in-law’s rejection of their family.
Carina sniffled once and then the tears came in earnest, even as she batted them away mumbling apologies. She was tired and jetlagged and her father wielded words like a weapon every time they spoke. It was bad enough over the phone. In person? Maya hated to think what else Vincenzo had said, especially off his meds.
She pulled Carina down to her chest, wrapping both arms around her and just let her cry, knowing part of her reaction was hormonal because usually Carina would scoff and angrily denounce her father’s abuse and wave her arms around as she released her anger. Maya kissed the top of Carina’s head and lightly stroked her hair, wishing there was some way to remove the hurt.
“Do you remember last Christmas?” She asked instead, her mind drifting to a happy memory.
Carina nodded against her.
“I’d just been promoted to lead arson detective,” Maya continued, “and your paper had just been published. And we decided to try again, even though we were scared, we decided to try.”
“I was so proud of you. The Christmas before…”
The Christmas before had been one of the darkest of their lives. All Maya remembered was pain. Physical pain. But mentally she’d been anguished. Consumed by her rage. Feeling like everything had been taken from her. Her job. Her health.
She’d aimed all of that anguish and all of that rage at Carina. And even though Carina had forgiven her. Even though Dr. Lewis said that she needed to move on, that she needed to accept that depression could manifest in horrible ways, that as long as she worked on herself and took her medication and continued therapy, she could sleep well at night.
Even with all of that, Maya would never lose sight of what she’d almost lost. What she’d almost thrown away. She’d never take Carina for granted again.
Maya tightened her grip on Carina, gently laying her hand on Carina’s cheek.
“I love you,” she whispered, hoping it could shake away the memories of what came before.
Carina propped herself up again, her eyes red-rimmed but clear.
“You came back to me,” Carina said, “last Christmas I kept staring at you. Like you would disappear if I didn’t have my eyes on you.”
“I just assumed you thought I looked hot in those ridiculous pyjamas you made me wear.”
“You did look hot.”
“A flannel onesie covered in elves does it for you? Note to self.”
Carina rolled her eyes but for the first time all night, her smile seemed genuine.
“We spent all night making love, Maya. I thought you knew about my elf kink?” Carina teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
Maya bit her lip, slightly flush at the memory as she rolled onto her side, facing her beaming wife. A bottle of wine and a decision to move forward with IVF had led to hours upon hours of sex. They’d barely slept at all and didn’t open presents until well into the afternoon. It had been one of the best days of Maya’s life.
Something so simple. A night in with her wife, making plans for their future.
They’d hoped to make this Christmas even better. Technically, their first Christmas as a family of three. But the best laid plans…
Carina’s hand slipped up the back of Maya’s shirt, her fingers tracing the thin six-inch scar that started below Maya’s shirt collar.
“Did your cousins take you out for dinner at least?” Maya asked, knowing that Carina had spent most of her time in Italy by her father’s hospital bed.
“No,” Carina said, “Gabriella did a few times, but everyone is busy with their lives…”
And it’s easier to let you shoulder everything than offer to help…
Maya scowled, unable to keep the anger from her face.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, “it’s just…I know he’s your dad, but you’re pregnant…I don’t like all the stress you have to carry.”
“I know, Bambina. But what else could I do?”
Maya scooched closer on the bed, wrestling with how to answer Carina’s question.
“I want you to be safe,” she confessed, her hand curved around Carina’s belly again, “both of you.”
“I am safe when I’m with you. My big strong firefighter.”
“I’m not your big strong firefighter anymore,” Maya said, no longer feeling the pang that once came with the statement.
Carina pressed herself to Maya’s front, forcing her onto her back.
“You will always be my big strong firefighter,” she said, brushing her lips against Maya’s, “sempre, Tesoro.”
She tugged lightly on Maya’s shirt, pulling the collar just enough to expose the scar that started at Maya’s shoulder and ended below her clavicle. Her tongue was warm against Maya’s skin as she traced the line.
They lay practically on top of each other, legs tangled as Maya slipped her hand into Carina’s t-shirt. She could tell that Carina was tired, that the emotions of the day and her long flight were finally catching up to her.
“We should sleep,” Maya said, smiling softly as Carina’s nose brushed across her chest, “Santa won’t come if we don’t go to bed.”
“Do you think Santa would mind if we slept naked?”
Maya raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I want to feel you, Bambina.”
Without another word, Maya sat up and pulled off her t-shirt. She watched quietly as Carina did the same and lay down again.
“Close your eyes,” Maya whispered, settling on her side as she started dragging her fingertips over Carina’s stomach. She let herself imagine their baby, their tiny baby, and decided to tell Carina a Christmas story.
“Next year we’ll put out milk and cookies,” she started, moving her hand up to lightly cup Carina’s breast.
A small smile appeared on Carina’s face. She blinked heavily, watching Maya, clearly listening.
“We’ll spend all of Christmas Eve in ridiculous matching pajamas, all three of us,” she continued, “And when baby DeLuca-Bishop falls asleep all warm and full of milk, I’m going to take you to bed.”
Maya brushed her palm over Carina’s nipple, eliciting a tired whimper from the woman growing heavy next to her. Maya leaned in, lightly kissing Carina’s neck, and then moved again, her lips finding the swell of Carina’s breast. Carina’s eyes were closed, but the smile on her face remained, and the fingers in Maya’s hair scratched lightly, encouraging her onwards.
“Just us,” Maya whispered into Carina’s ear, “our family.”
She dragged her hand down Carina’s body, sliding over her ribs and her thighs. When she slipped her fingers into Carina’s panties, Carina sighed.
“Sleep, my love,” Maya said, smiling softly when Carina squeezed her thighs together, trapping Maya’s hand.
Carina’s eyes grew so heavy, her body relaxing as Maya started to lightly stroke her.
“You’re here,” Carina said in barely a whisper, already half asleep.
“With you.”
“With me.”
“You’re home, Carina, you’re both home.”
Maya didn’t move again until she was sure Carina was sleeping. She took a selfish moment to stare down at her wife, to admire her changing body. But sleep called for her too, so she reluctantly shifted her hand, knowing that Carina would undoubtably wake her in the morning wanting and needy.
She shut the lamp and adjusted their blankets, making sure Carina was warm, and with the snow still falling outside, Maya curled against Carina, her lips finding the baby bump once more.
“Merry Christmas, baby avocado,” Maya said, her voice low, “I love you.”
The ache was still there. It would likely be there forever.
But living with it meant seeing the sunrise. It meant listening to Carina breathing as she slept so peacefully. It meant that in a few short months, she would be able to hold their child in her arms and protect it and love it until the day she died.
The ache was still there.
And so was Maya.
Humbled. Filled with gratitude. Alive.
She closed her eyes and let herself rest. She let herself love.
In this life.
No matter what awaited her underneath the Christmas tree, there was no greater gift.
This life.
Carina. Their baby.
A beautiful mess in a changing world.