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Eva knows it’s going to be a serious conversation when Bibi drops onto the couch and nestles her head in Eva’s lap, looking up at her with dark, searching eyes. One arm folded over her chest, the other reaching out to seek Eva’s hand, tangling their fingers together, holding on tighter than she usually does. “Hey,” Bibi says, oddly soft, cautious, hesitant. “Are you okay?”
Eva blinks, uncertain, wondering what this is all about. “I’m fine,” she replies, stroking her thumb over Bibi’s knuckles. She means it, too, and she isn’t sure why the furrow between Bibi’s brows doesn’t ease. “Are you? What’s wrong?”
Bibi exhales slowly, volleys another question in return. “You’re sure? Just - “ A beat, her lower lip pulled between her teeth, quieter and more deliberate when she continues. “After what that fucking Prick said to you just now - God, I wish I’d strangled him right then and there.”
It flashes back into her mind, unbidden, those three words that (still) so easily sink a stone into her belly. Are you pregnant? Eva swallows past the lump in her throat, bends to press her lips to Bibi’s forehead, trying to kiss her worry away. “I’m fine,” she repeats. “Sticks and stones, right? I’m not going to let him hurt me that easily.” Again, it goes unsaid, but not unheard. He hurt her once, but she got up stronger, and with Bibi by her side, she’s not afraid. She has her rock, her light - the rest of it doesn’t matter.
Bibi’s next inhale is shaky, an uncharacteristic wobble in her tone as she whispers, “Eva, you know, we can - if it’s still something you really want - we can figure it out, right?” She squeezes Eva’s hand a little tighter, like she’s trying to draw strength from their shared touch. “I mean, I know it would be difficult, and obviously we wouldn’t be able to present as a proper couple, but we could adopt, if we worked out the loopholes. Whether it’d be under your name, or my name - once it went through - we’d still be related, legally, regardless, and we’d still raise the child as ours. And it’s not like a child living with their mum and aunt would raise any eyebrows - nobody would ask difficult questions, surely?”
“Bibi,” Eva says softly, but Bibi continues, the words rushing out, almost frantic. “Or I could - try IVF? We can afford it, especially after I won that last tournament. Then we wouldn’t have to worry as much about the legalities - I could put you down as legal guardian, or something; I don’t know how it works, obviously, but we could do the research - I’m sure there are ways - “
“Bibi,” Eva interrupts, louder this time, and employs the most reliable method of calming her down, bringing her lips to Bibi’s and easing her into a lingering kiss. Bibi sighs into her mouth, a shuddery thing, and at least some of the tension has leached from her tightly-wound frame when Eva finally pulls back. “Sorry,” she whispers. “I just want you to have the things you want, Eva. The things you deserve.”
Eva knows. That’s Bibi, to the core, ever since she was little, even before they went from sisters to more. Proud, driven, confident Bibi, who never had qualms about her feelings for Eva, about making the first move, about laughing in the face of whatever the world might try to tell them about the illicit nature of their relationship. Except for this. The one insecurity that’s never stopped weighing on her mind, no matter how much Eva’s tried to talk her out of it - the fact that Bibi can’t give her a child of their own.
“I have what I want,” Eva affirms. “A stable life, and my sisters around me, and you. That’s all I need - Bibi. Listen to me,” she adds, before Bibi can open her mouth to protest. “If I had to pick between having children and having you, I would always pick you. You make me happy, and you complete me, and you’re real. Not something, someone, who might fulfil me as a parent, or whatever. You’re here.” She cards her fingers through Bibi’s hair, down her cheek. “And, look. We already raised a child together, didn’t we? Technically?”
Bibi laughs, a little wet. “Becka wasn’t a child,” she snorts. “She was a hellion sent by the devil to test our patience. Especially from ages seven to sixteen.”
“Ay, exactly. And how do you know our hypothetical child wouldn’t be just like that, or worse? Especially if you gave birth to her, and she had all your genes,” Eva teases, earning her another snort and a light punch from Bibi. “You’d seriously want to go through all that again, at our age? When we could be enjoying a quiet house and taking holidays whenever we like?”
“You’re the one who wanted it so badly,” Bibi says quietly. “You talked about it when we were growing up, especially with all those boys you dated - “
“That was before I knew I wanted you,” Eva replies. “Before I realised that what I really wanted was a do-over, Bibi. Making up for what you - all four of you, but especially you and Becka - didn’t get to have. A family with a happy ending. That’s the kind of thing you wish for when you’re young, and mired in the grief - impossible things. The kind of thing you wish for until life gives you what you really need.”
Bibi groans, eyes screwed shut, but she’s smiling, clearly against her will. “You’re disgusting. An incurable romantic. I’m think I’m going to throw up.”
“Fuck you. You love it.”
Bibi gives her an affectionate pinch, making her yelp. “I love you,” she agrees. “I love you so much it really does make me sick.” She laughs as Eva pinches her back. “Seriously, though, can I still kill the Prick for what he said?”
Eva rolls her eyes and grins, indulgent. “Sure, Bibi. Anything you want.”