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Rio had started noticing strange patterns in Agatha’s behavior. Her wife was constantly on her laptop, eyes flicking across images and articles with an intensity that didn’t feel like casual browsing. But the moment Rio approached, Agatha would snap the screen shut with a too-quick smile and a deflecting “Just work stuff.”
It wasn’t just the secrecy. Rio had also caught Agatha standing in front of the mirror—sometimes clothed, sometimes naked—gazing at her own body as if studying it. Not in a vain or admiring way, but like she was searching for something. Her fingers would brush over her skin, eyes narrowing in thought, as if looking for marks only she could see.
A week passed, and instead of easing, Agatha’s odd behavior only deepened. Now she was taking phone calls in hushed tones, slipping into different rooms and closing the door behind her. They weren’t her usual work calls; Rio could tell. Her voice had an edge to it, and sometimes, she wouldn’t speak at all for long stretches—just listened.
It was beginning to feel like Agatha was keeping a secret. And not the kind you keep for a surprise party.
That night, Rio had had enough. The secrecy. The closed doors. The half-hearted smiles. It was time to get answers. She decided she’d talk to Agatha after dinner.
“Mommy, this is sooo good,” Nicky said, practically bouncing in his chair as he stuffed another forkful of pasta into his mouth.
Agatha smiled warmly, the kind of smile that made Rio's chest ache with love and confusion all at once. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Rio sat across from her, silent, her fork idly stirring her food. She didn’t touch her wine. She didn’t touch anything, really—except her growing unease.
Agatha didn’t seem to notice.
“How was school today?” Agatha asked, turning her attention back to their son as she sipped from her glass.
Nicky gave a dramatic little pout. “Boriiiiing. The teacher made us read a very boring book.”
“Oh no, what was the book’s name?” Agatha asked, ever patient.
Nicky paused, furrowing his brows in concentration. “Umm… I don’t remember.”
Agatha laughed softly. “That’s okay, baby. You tried.”
The room settled into an odd stillness after that—three whole minutes of silence, except for the soft clinking of silverware and Nicky’s occasional slurping.
Then finally, Agatha looked up at Rio. Her voice gentle. “Love? Is everything okay?”
Rio gave her a small, practiced smile and nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”
Agatha held her gaze for a beat longer, her brows pulling together slightly. But then she let it go.
Nicky, as always, was the first to break the quiet. He pushed his plate away, sauce smeared proudly across his chin. “Mommies, can I go play with Señor Scratchy now?”
“You sure can, bud,” Rio said, brushing a curl out of his face.
Nicky turned to Agatha next, eyes wide with hope.
She chuckled. “Take him to our room. You can play with him there.”
Nicky’s jaw dropped slightly. “Really?!”
“Yup,” Agatha said with a wink. “Go on.”
“YESSSSS!” He leapt from his chair like he’d just won the lottery, already halfway down the hallway before they could respond.
The house fell quiet again.
Just the two of them now.
Rio took a slow breath and set her napkin down.
It was time.
“Agatha,” Rio said, her voice low, steady—but there was no mistaking the seriousness behind it.
Agatha turned toward her, instantly alert. “Yes?”
Rio took a long, shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “Are you cheating on me?”
Agatha’s eyes widened, lips parting in silent disbelief. “What?”
Rio closed her eyes for a second, grounding herself before repeating it—calmer this time, but firmer. “Are you cheating on me?”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Agatha stared at her, stunned. “Why would you even ask me that?”
Rio leaned back slightly, crossing her arms, the hurt flickering behind her eyes. “You’re not even denying it.”
Agatha blinked fast, like she was trying to catch up with the moment, and failed. “I—Rio, no. Of course not. How can you even think that?”
“Because for the past week you’ve been acting like a stranger,” Rio snapped, her voice cracking just slightly. “Closing your laptop the second I walk into the room, whispering on the phone behind closed doors, looking at yourself in the mirror like you’re—like you’re hiding something. What else am I supposed to think?”
Agatha opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
So Rio kept going.
“I’m your wife, Agatha. And lately, I feel like I don’t even know you.”
Agatha slowly pushed her chair back and stood, her eyes never leaving Rio. She rounded the table without a word, then dropped to her knees right in front of her wife, gently resting her hands on Rio’s thighs.
“Rio,” Agatha said softly, searching Rio’s eyes. “You think I could ever look at anyone else and feel what I feel when I look at you?”
Rio’s jaw clenched, lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t speak, but her silence said everything.
Agatha’s voice cracked just a little. “You and Nicky… you’re my whole heart. You’re my life.”
Rio blinked, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Then why are you keeping secrets from me?”
Agatha saw it now—how close Rio was to breaking—and her heart twisted.
“It’s a surprise,” Agatha said gently, brushing a lock of hair behind Rio’s ear. “That’s all I’m gonna say.”
Rio held her gaze, her eyes glistening, breath shallow. “Is it a surprise I’m gonna like?”
Agatha gave a soft laugh, one full of love and just a touch of nerves. “I really hope so.”
A small, fragile smile bloomed on Rio’s lips, and that was all Agatha needed.
She leaned in and kissed her—slow, tender, reassuring. Their foreheads touched as they lingered there, breathing each other in.
“Are we good?” Agatha asked, her voice quiet, hopeful.
Rio nodded, blinking back the tears. “Yes.”
“Good.” Agatha cupped her face, thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks. “I love you, Rio.”
That was the final push.
Rio’s tears fell freely now, but her smile stayed. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
The next morning, Agatha dropped Nicky off at school like she always did—but this time, she didn’t come straight home.
Hours passed. Four, to be exact.
Rio tried not to worry. She really did.
But her eyes kept flicking to the clock, her fingers tapping restlessly on the kitchen counter. Eventually, anxiety won out. She grabbed her phone and called Agatha, her thumb hovering just a moment over the contact name before pressing call.
After a few rings, Agatha picked up, her voice warm and velvety.
“Hey, love. Everything alright?”
Rio exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.
“Yeah… I just— Where are you? It’s been a while.”
There was some soft background noise on the other end. Voices. Maybe water trickling? It was hard to place.
“I’m at this spa-type place,” Agatha said, breezy but a little rushed. “Looking for something special for Jen’s birthday.”
Rio’s brows drew together, her tone skeptical. “You’ve been looking for four hours?”
A pause. Then a buzzing started.
“Well… I went to a bunch of places first. Got turned around. Traffic was a nightmare. And, you know how I am—I needed the perfect thing.”
Rio leaned back against the counter, rolling her eyes with affection. That sounded exactly like Agatha. Overthinking, overdoing, and somehow still making it look graceful. Always on a mission. Always alone on that mission.
“Sounds like you,” she muttered, the edges of her worry softening into a smile. “Just… be careful.”
“I always am,” Agatha said gently. “Oh, and don’t worry about Nicky—Wanda kidnapped him for a sleepover. He’s her little sidekick now.”
Rio laughed. “Of course he is.”
“Alright, gotta run. Love you,” Agatha added in that soft, honeyed way that never failed to make Rio’s heart ache just a little.
“Love you,” Rio echoed, but the line had already gone dead.
She stood there for a few seconds, phone still in hand, staring at the screen like it could give her answers.
She was almost certain Agatha was working on that surprise.
And somehow, knowing that made Rio even more anxious.
Agatha and her surprises—always a little chaos, always a lot of love.
Rio was dead asleep on the couch when she heard the front door creak open.
“Love?” Agatha’s voice called softly.
Still groggy, Rio rubbed her eyes and pushed herself upright, following the familiar sound. “Hi,” she murmured.
Agatha stood there in the hallway, framed by the golden evening light, wearing a moss-green hoodie—Rio’s hoodie.
Rio blinked. “Why are you wearing a hoodie? It’s boiling outside.”
Agatha hesitated, her eyes flicking away before she gave a quiet, almost shy smile. “It smells like you.”
Rio's heart did a tiny somersault. “Well,” she said, voice teasing and fond, “I can’t exactly complain about that, can I?”
Agatha stepped closer and gently brushed a kiss to Rio’s cheek. “I’m gonna lie down for a bit. It’s been such a long day.”
“Alright,” Rio said, watching her wife climb the stairs with a soft smile. “I’ll wake you for dinner!”
Later, around seven, Rio padded upstairs to check on her. The room was dim and calm, filled with the quiet hum of evening. Agatha was fast asleep, curled up in a nest of blankets, breathing slow and steady.
Rio smiled and pulled the blanket higher to cover her—but paused.
There, on Agatha’s forearm, was something new.
A tattoo.
Delicate, elegant, and deeply familiar. Three flowers grew from a loosely tied ribbon at the base. A white Lily of the Valley nestled low, a pink Peony rose from the center, and at the top, a blooming Rose. Curving vines and soft leaves tied the bouquet together, and tucked among the petals were three initials—N, R, and A.
Rio’s breath caught.
She knew exactly what those flowers meant. Of course she did. She’d spent her life surrounded by blooms.
Rose — love and strength.
Peony — compassion and protection.
Lily of the Valley — innocence and sweetness.
Each flower a symbol. Each one a person.
Agatha. Rio. Nicky.
Three flowers. Three hearts. One family.
Tears welled in Rio’s eyes. Her fingers gently hovered over the ink, afraid to touch it, as if it were too sacred.
And even in her sleep, Agatha made Rio feel more alive than words ever could.