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Michaela’s heart was pounding, and not just the usual amount. Michaela’s heart was beating so fast that the sound of her own heart racing rang through her ears.
Since the moment Francesca had asked Michaela to stay, Michaela hadn’t fully exhaled a breath. Francesca was ignorant of the fact that Michaela’s avoidance of suitors was more complex than just wanting to be a spinster. Hell, Michaela didn’t even like men. And she probably never had. Ever since her and Fran met that night, and Francesca seemed to have forgotten her own name, Michaela had known. Francesca might have been the one to get flustered that night, but Michaela was the one who had fallen in love. She had known since right there and then that Francesca was the one she had been searching for. Michaela’s affections toward Francesca were intangible, and Michaela had no explanations for them other than the fact that she knew. Knew that kind, introverted Francesca was the only one for her, despite their differences.
That entire summer in Scotland had been torture. Michaela had been completely in touch with her feeling but had no ability to act on them. Francesca had been her cousins wife for gods sake. And John was her best friend, she could never betray him like that. And plus, would Francesca even reciprocate her affections? It was unlikely, given the fact that homosexuality was utterly unheard of. Or even if it was heard of, no one dared speak of it, for they feared it was a most grave sin. Michaela didn’t care about what society expected of her, but she could never ask such a burden of Francesca, to be shunned from her most beloved family. You see, Michaela had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. But Francesca, even after John’s death, had everything to lose with her family at her side.
Before John had passed, perhaps John had known— somewhere deep down— that Michaela’s march into spinsterhood was not as surface level as just a dislike of men. Even if John had discovered the truth, he had never let on. He never had the courage to say it out loud, outright, no matter how obvious it was. And frankly, neither did she. But now John was gone, and it seemed the only person who may have unconditionally supported and loved her was dead, and she felt all alone. Even in Francesca’s presence, Michaela felt isolated, since as long as Francesca was oblivious to Michaela’s sexuality, there was an invisible barrier between them, whether they knew it or not.
Yet, Francesca had asked her to stay. Did Fran even know what precisely that word meant to Michaela? Michaela was a drifter, a nomad through and through. She had never desired settling down before , however she had never had the opportunity to settle down with a woman before. Whether Francesca thought their relationship was platonic or not, it was clear as to how Michaela would define them: they were family by marriage, but companions by choice. They had known each other for months but had only been close since right before John’s sudden death. Yet somehow, after such a short time, Michaela felt as if she couldn’t live without Francesca. Seeing Francesca every day through their mourning process had been the only thing keeping Michaela from giving up on life.
But she knew the reality of the world, and had already lived it. Michaela had no choice but to leave, or else she feared giving into the temptations that consumed her very being, and risk both of their livelihoods.