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Nat ceremoniously kicks off her boots the minute she steps through the doorway, the lasting chill of the Seattle rain sticking to her blonde locks as she shakes the hair out of her eyes, flinging the small water droplets onto the carpet and tossing her keys into the ceramic dish settled next to the door- the one Lottie had made when she took a local pottery class. The overhead lights are dimmed low throughout the small, cozy apartment, the steady drumming of rain tapping against the windows and creating a symphony of tinkles that makes Nat think of the wind chimes that once danced over the door to her trailer, the only beautiful thing amongst all the dust and dirt that she couldn’t get far enough away from once she was able to.
That was years ago, though; and standing in the doorway of the nestled-in home she and Lottie have built from scratch with nothing but tightly-fisted childhood hopes and half-baked whimsical dreams that were too big for two kids stuck in Wiskayok, she reasons that she would choose the rain over dryness any day of the week.
“Hey, baby,” Nat calls out, readjusting the bag of groceries filling her arms as she steps around the fuzzy pair of slippers scattered next to her boots, turning the corner of the entryway into the kitchen and resisting the instinctual urge to flick on the lights overhead. Instead, she sets the brown paper bag on the countertop as she begins to unload the paradoxical items that spread across the spectrum of salty and sweet, casually tossing them into the places they belong, “You home still?”
She hears a faint rustling come from the living room: the turn of a book page, or a soft tuft of a sigh that Nat has become infinitely more attuned to throughout the past few months, her ears perking up as she tilts her chin, waiting.
“I’m in here, Natty,” Lottie calls out to her, Nat abandoning the groceries in favor of padding after the melodic voice leading her into the living room where Lottie sits snuggled into the couch, the sunshine-colored hand-woven blanket Jackie had gifted them last Christmas curled around Lottie’s form. Nat can see a book lying half-heartedly discarded amongst the cushions next to her, a familiar red Rutgers logo peaking out from the blanket as the hoodie that Nat vaguely remembers tossing into the back of their closet stretches to cover the soft, sacred curve of Lottie’s protruding belly.
Her heart clenches helplessly at the idyllic sight of them, a golden string of gratefulness that wraps itself tightly around her chest, tugging her forward when Lottie’s arms reach out and beckon for her; Nat’s body obeying the silent command immediately, like she was made solely for this world for the singular task of giving Lottie everything she ever wanted- without hesitation, without it even being a thought in her head to contemplate. Her knees bang against the edge of the couch, Nat’s focus too enamored with the picturesque vision of Lottie’s delicate, crooked-tooth smile watching her every move with an adoration that had completely undone Nat the first time she was given it.
It was college that had brought them back together, in the way that really mattered. She made the impulsively reckless decision to follow Van and Jackie to Rutgers to try and walk-on the soccer team; hoping desperately that her close proximity to two of their starting players might give her an edge that the other girls didn’t have from playing together. She spent the first four months of that fall semester alternating couch surfing between Jackie’s crowded suite and Van’s miniscule dorm room, crashing periodically on their floors and even taking the train three hours north to stay with Shauna at Brown when she was particularly despondent; hoping that the dream she had of becoming something more than the local burnout was somehow still possible, despite every deity in the world seemingly telling her it wasn’t.
The first time she attended the late fall walk-on practice, she got laid out by one of the junior girls trying to make a point. Her first instinct was to look for familiarity: her eyes scanning the field for the towering brown-haired form that had always defended her back in high school, using her height to shoulder check anyone who thought that they could push Natalie around just because she was slightly smaller than the rest of them. But she wasn’t there- just like Nat knew she wouldn’t be.
Van helped her up, whispering useless words of encouragement that sounded something vaguely like don’t listen to her or she’s just throwing her dick around. But the junior had made her point- loud and clear, with no room for misunderstanding or denial. It was a point that Nat had already been taught back in Wiskayok, one that she was infinitely more familiar with than anyone ever really gave her credit for: if you want it, come take it.
So, she did.
She fought back every practice after that, gritting her teeth harder when the older girls elbowed her roughly in the ribs over every joust of the ball, their cleats digging into her shins when they kicked listlessly to try and claw the prized possession away from her fluttering feet, Nat’s body refusing to yield regardless of what was thrown at her. She ended every practice covered in various smudges of blood, most often her own, knees and shins and eyebrows scraped raw or cut open from every battle she refused to surrender from, every war that she was willing to give her dying breath to come out the conquer.
And the payoff she was betting on all those months ago, that instinctual familiarity she had of how Jackie and Van functioned while they were on the field, like a tight-knit hunting pack that stalked its prey until the inevitable, paid off. She got the starting midfielder position, an accomplishment that now allowed her to apply to every single scholarship known to man, her dorm desk constantly covered in piles of paperwork that paid her $1,00 here, a couple hundred there; until every single dollar of tuition was paid for in full.
She hadn’t thought much about what she would do after making the team.
A major? A career? These were none of the things anyone ever thought she could achieve as the local burnout smoking weed and drinking beer like it was an Olympic sport she was perfecting. And yet, she found that she had an unusual knack for something useful, something that wasn’t actively fighting off alcohol poisoning: engineering. After all, it was basically the same thing as soccer- angles, calculations, timing all coming together in order to create something with precision and purpose. But it made sense to her, and that was all she ever needed to take the chance being given.
Their first home game was against NYU- Jackie had told her and Van all about their starting striker intel, giving them both a shitty PowerPoint presentation in the library study room they rented out- and Nat had felt perfectly calm in the center storm of it, easing her pre-game jitters with a perfectly curated playlist that she had downloaded onto a CD to take with her to every game. Until she looked across the field and saw her.
She looked just as beautiful as she always did when they were younger: her golden skin shimmering slightly in the sunlight with the sweat sticking softly to her, the tall slope of her graceful shoulders and the sleek, long, black hair curling down her back utterly unmistakable for anyone else. Nat had spent years seeking out that same form in every pitch, that same girl in all the moments stolen between heartbeats and headers when she wanted to savor the sight of being close enough to experience a bliss that Nat had never allowed herself to truly feel.
Lottie noticed her a heartbeat later, twisting around while in her defensive drill and glancing over at the perfect time to see Nat gaping slack-jawed back at her, her earbuds dangling limply from one ear as the song on her CD player skipped relentlessly over and over, a scratch on the disk like the one on her heart she hadn’t realized was still fresh from missing.
“Natty?” Lottie gasped softly, the familiar shape of her lips forming around her name the only way Nat had understood that she was being beckoned, brown eyes widening when she took a hesitant step closer; as if Nat might disappear if she moved too quickly, startled like the baby deer she always was when tossed around the pitch until Lottie defended her, the brunette looking back with such unfiltered yearning that she wasn’t sure how to soak it all in without it bursting out of her chest, “It’s really you?”
That was almost a decade ago, the explosive reunion that collided in bleary-eyed hugs and soft confessions of wanting things that they had never been brave enough to admit before leaving, their respective teammates watching them with a rapt curiosity that Nat couldn’t give less than a shit about. NYU was only 50 minutes away, and Lottie was worth waiting every single minute of the rest of her life as long as she got the chance to have what she always wanted.
Every time Nat thinks of it, she can’t fathom how lucky she is that every little instance of kismet had somehow collided perfectly to allow her to get to this moment, to get the dream she never dared to hope for when her eyes were open- the two most important people in her entire world somehow sitting just at the edge of her fingertips.
Nat shimmies her way over the couch cushions, getting as close to Lottie as she can while holding herself above the brunette, the delicate curve between them brushing Nat’s stomach softly when she leans down to place a chaste kiss against Lottie’s irresistible lips. She lets herself savor the familiar taste of strawberry and tea, the sweetness on Lottie’s tongue somehow vanquishing any of the lingering chill that had stuck to Nat’s ears and cheeks and bones.
“Hi, baby,” Lottie smiles up at her when she pulls away, brushing her cheek tenderly with her knuckle before lifting her chin and placing another tender kiss on the edge of Nat’s jaw, her entire spine tingling with how much her body responds to Lottie’s mere touch, “How was the grocery store?”
“Wet,” Nat retorts dryly and Lottie giggles, a beautiful delicate thing that makes her nose scrunch up adorably while tugging on the end of Nat’s damp hair, Nat’s smile curling up in spite of itself, “But I managed to get some of those little Halloween cookies you’ve been craving, so I’ll call it a win.”
“Oh!” Lottie brightens delightfully, Nat’s heart swelling at the expression while the brunette slowly pushes herself up from the cushions, settling into a straighter position with a bit of a struggle that Nat’s eyes watch attentively, holding out a hand that Lottie wraps hers around to help pull her up further, “The ones with the little pictures on them?”
Lottie is so beautiful like this. She always is, Nat knows this to be truer than anything else, but there is something about the soft, maternal glow of pregnancy that makes every one of Lottie’s cute little expressions become unbearably radiant, a beacon of love and possibility that encompasses every hallowed dream Nat feared having.
She hadn’t spoken to her own mother since leaving Wiskayok. Not that there really was anything to say to the woman who hardly paid her any attention when she was around, a ghostly presence that haunted her when she lived in the confining walls of their trailer. Lottie didn't speak much to her parents either after an explosive fight between them that had left the brunette crying on the duvet of her dorm room bed, her head tucked into Nat’s collar as she wept over a future that felt unfairly impossible back then. So a family, or even the fleeting dream of having one, always felt…precarious. Something for others to have, but not her.
The swell under the Rutgers logo is her most precious dream personified: a fantasy somehow come to life by the sheer luck that Nat never took for granted, or by some long-awaited answered prayer she offered up all those years ago with nothing but a yearning that felt sacrilegious. Whatever it is, or was, it doesn’t matter; as long as she gets to keep living in it, just a few moments more.
“Those are the ones,” Nat grins back up at Lottie proudly, the brunette reaching out and curling the collar of Nat’s sweatshirt around her fist, tugging her closer to give her a peppering of kisses across her lower face, Nat giggling at the soft, fluttering sensation.
“My brave, beautiful girl,” Lottie teases gently into her cheek, her voice softening into an octave that makes Nat’s smile widen with unadulterated pride, a sense of undeniable affection curling between them when she whispers into Nat’s ear, “How did we ever get so lucky with you?”
We.
Nat blushes furiously under Lottie’s tender praise, her left hand slowly letting itself lower from the back of the couch and onto the curve of Lottie’s stomach, her fingers sprayed wide in a genuine effort to feel as much of their baby as she possibly can without losing this precious closeness to Lottie, her arm propping her up so that she isn’t pressing any weight onto the reclined brunette.
“I’m the lucky one,” Nat murmurs softly in response, letting her palm rest against the warm material of her stretched out hoodie, a soft thumping tapping back against her as if in recognition, “Although, I appreciate you acknowledging my sacrifice.” Lottie scoffs playfully at Nat’s deliberate tease, her eyes widening comically when Nat gives her a lopsided grin, tilting her head in a way that she hopes comes off as charming enough to convey the unserious intention beneath her words.
“Your sacrifice?” Lottie teases back easily, raising a curious eyebrow as her hands lower to caress the life nestled between them, her fingers tenderly tracing and massaging the itchy spot under her bellybutton that Nat knows has been bothering her for the past month despite all the lotion remedies they could find to try, “Well what would we ever do without that?”
Nat is not delusional enough to think she has sacrificed anything remotely worthy to be given this dream. When they first discussed the possibility of a family someday, a handful of years after they graduated into real adulthood, she had never felt more out of her depth than any other time in her life. Between the two of them, they had decent careers- Nat, as an engineer for Google and Lottie, as a child specialist preschool teacher- friends who visited them regularly despite being on the other side of the country, a stable income that allowed them to rent an apartment that became the first place Nat had ever felt truly at home within.
But Lottie had told her immediately during their first conversations that it wouldn’t be her egg they used- couldn’t be her DNA that was used to create the dream they both allowed themselves to hope for. It wasn’t a secret why Lottie felt so strongly about the sentiment; Nat had seen the lineup of pills that Lottie took every morning to keep herself regulated enough to feel like a functioning person- the topic of her fight with her parents all those years ago a wounded sore spot when they had listed every prescription she had as a different reason she couldn’t be a good mother.
So it wasn’t those other adult things that had her brain swarming with buzzing anxiety when Nat thought about it being her egg they used to start a family- it was the simple idea that there could be a person in the world someday who was just like her, who had her genes within them, for better or worse.
Would that be fair? To give their precious hope her faulty, unreliable genetics?
Lottie never once felt the same way about it- or if she did, Nat was none the wiser- the brunette had simply cupped her cheek tenderly when they cried together over the bitter realization that the dream they so desperately desired was so much simpler for others then it would ever be for them, another instance of that shitty point in Nat’s life telling her if she wanted it, she had to take it.
“What if the baby turns out like me?” Nat had asked Lottie helplessly, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes as she tried to blink away the fear that burned behind her eyelids, “What if I give them my bad genes and they turn out like I was supposed to?” Lottie had simply held her tighter, wrapping her comforting arms around Nat’s body to pull her as close as possible, leaning her head down and pressing her lips to the curve of Nat’s neck so tenderly, so delicately that Nat could have sworn it was a prayer Lottie whispered into her ear.
“If this baby is anything like you are, Nat, then the world will have gained another beautiful dreamer.”
Choosing Nat’s egg meant Lottie had wanted to be the one to carry to term; beginning the cycle of endless doctor’s appointments and medication changes and modifications, a gamble of luck and prayer that Nat was terrified would run out throughout the entire ordeal, until finally they had found the ideal balance for Lottie to safely embrace the dream they never let go of throughout.
And embrace it, she did.
The first trimester had been terrible: constant morning sickness that had Lottie’s body trembling with nausea and calling out from work more often than not, her body slumped over the toilet as Nat faithfully rubbed her back in silent, unspoken solidarity, offering measly saltine crackers in between her bouts of puking that left her golden skin a ghastly green complexion.
“I’m so sorry,” Nat would whisper during the endless nights that the sleep evaded them helplessly those first few months, Lottie practically falling asleep on the chin she propped up to keep her from faceplanting into the porcelain, “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”
“Shush,” Lottie would murmur back, opening her sleepy, half-awake eyes to peer scoldingly at her, “I’m not sorry for any of it. This is all a part of creating our dream.”
The second semester had shown more of the small perks of expecting than the first, a pleasant surprise for both of them that made the possibility of their family that much more real. Lottie’s nausea had eased up significantly, her appetite returning with a slew of paradoxical concoctions that would leave Nat gagging- sweet and salty foods doused in ketchup and splattered with gummy bears in a vile mixture that Nat would watch her munch happily, Nat always left sitting in awe. The cravings had appeared as quickly as the small swell of Lottie’s belly did, her once slim waist softening until Nat could feel the fluttering sensation tickling beneath her skin, a small burst of soccer kicks that rattled Nat all the way to her very core the first time she felt them.
“Is that them?” Nat had asked breathlessly, the wiggling so faint beneath her palm, Lottie’s fingers intertwined tightly around hers as she pressed Nat’s hand closer to the squirming life that made tears burst onto the tops her cheeks, “Is that really our baby?”
“Yeah, Natty,” Lottie had confirmed gently, her fingers shaking when she brushed Nat’s hair away from her teary face, her own eyes full of an emotion that Nat had never experienced before in her entire life, “That’s our girl.” The sensation was indescribable as she felt the swirl of everything colliding together: the disbelief, the joy, the pain and betrayal of knowing now what her mother chose to abandon all those years ago. It all swelled up in her, the beginning and end of her own simplistic world as it morphed and restructured itself around the precious dream reaching back out to her.
The third trimester, this trimester, was all leading to the final sacrifice that Lottie was preparing to offer up in order for their dream to finally arrive. The Braxton Hicks contractions had started last week, a small twinge of discomfort that Nat could read instantly on Lottie’s pinched expression, her hand rubbing slow, soothing circles around the lower part of her sizable bump.
“What is it, baby?” Nat asked instantly, already panicking inside despite knowing that it was her duty to stay calm, to stay rational as the baby finally made her long-awaited arrival, “Is it time?” Lottie had grit down on her teeth, reaching out and hooking her hand around Nat’s arm with a ferocity that had Nat’s heart clamoring out of her chest, her mind swarming with the mental check-list that she had been checking and re-checking for the past four weeks in preparation for this very moment. Lottie had closed her eyes, breathing in deeply through her nose before pushing the air back out with slow, steadied exhales that Nat recognized from the birthing classes they took.
“Lottie?” Nat whispered, her hand coming up to grab reassuringly onto Lottie’s death grip to convey her presence, to give Lottie the unspoken reassurance that she wasn’t going anywhere, “Baby, is it time?”
“No,” Lottie finally managed to huff out, her body loosening in a shocking instant as the pain etched into her face was suddenly wiped away, her eyelashes fluttering open as Nat’s furrowed brows pinched closer together, Lottie’s lips curling up in a humorous smile as she confessed, “I think it’s just our girl being cheeky,” her head tilted up, “False alarm.”
It was indisputable; Lottie’s sacrifice, her selfless willingness to carry their daughter all the way from a dream to a reality, was much more meaningful than anything Nat could ever do to make sure she was comfortable through it all.
“You’d definitely not have Halloween cookies,” Nat teases back regardless, savoring the coy little smile that blossoms over Lottie’s face, Nat nuzzling closer when Lottie’s fingers trail tenderly over her chin, the brunette still looking back at her with that soft gaze of adoration that tugs on Nat’s heart relentlessly.
“What’re you reading?” Nat glances down at the book left discarded beside them, Lottie eyes following hers as she sighs deeply, huffing with a flair of drama that has also become more prominent within the last notable months.
“Just another baby book,” Lottie admits with a listless wave of her hand, using her other to turn the cover, showing Nat the pastel pink front that is edged in a smoothed frill design, “I’m pretty sure that the names are melting together in my head.”
“It’s a good thing she’s only going to need one then,” Nat shrugs and Lottie giggles, shaking her head while Nat lowers herself to curl into the precious space between Lottie and the couch cushions, her gaze settling itself next to Lottie’s lap so that she can still feel the soft fluttering that always seems to be kicking at the calmest times, pressing against her cheek. Lottie’s hand comes down, her warm touch stroking Nat’s shoulder with soothing, delicate traces that seem to echo the tingling of the rain outside the windows.
“Which is already hard enough for us to come up with, I’ll remind you,” Lottie counters easily, no hint of lingering tension in her voice despite the truth that underlines her words. They've been struggling to find a name that fit; a name that would be a testament to the hope and joy that had gone into waiting for their dream to happen, a name that was strong and beautiful and delicate and ferocious- all the things their daughter had already proven herself to be. They scoured through baby books, scrolled through baby forums, even began asking their friends for their biased, unhelpful opinions. Nothing had felt right so far, nothing had felt like hers.
“We could always just call her Peaches,” Nat offers half-heartedly, looking up and tilting her head curiously at Lottie’s soft smile, the brunette’s lips curling up at the edges in spite of herself, “Like that dinosaur movie you like.”
“Ice Age?” Lottie chuckles, her smile pulling wide enough that her right side dimple shows itself, a small detail that Nat loves with every fiber in her being, “Are you really suggesting we name our daughter after the little baby mammoth from that movie?”
“It would definitely be a solution,” Nat chuckles, letting her face nuzzle back against their baby as her arm wraps slowly around the lower area of Lottie’s hips, pulling her flush against Nat as close as she can to murmur into her belly, “I never said it would be a good one.”
“It’s a good thing you’re cute then.”
“Is that why you’re wearing my hoodie?” Nat counters quickly, glancing up to see Lottie blushing profusely at being caught, her fingertips tugging at the Rutgers hoodie that is clearly not fitting her…fully. Not that Nat would ever insinuate anything about the perfect brunette who still looks stunning, even with the faded hoodie riding up slightly on her hip where Nat’s hand is able to trace the warm skin beneath.
“I missed you,” Lottie says softly in answer, her voice dipping in that delicate, vulnerable way that always makes Nat’s heart flutter; her arms crossing over her chest defensively as much as she can with her belly getting in the way, “And you were taking forever.”
Nat laughs good-naturedly at Lottie’s pouty declaration, her eyes widening with delight when Lottie lets out an indignant huff, shaking her head with a sassy finality that reminds her endearingly of that relentless defender from all those years ago.
“I was gone for like, twenty minutes, baby,” Nat defends herself half-heartedly, holding her hands up in the air innocently as Lottie shakes her head stubbornly once more, leaning back against the cushions to emphasize her guilty verdict. Nat’s lip curls up, her hand coming back down to trail over Lottie’s crossed arm, her fingers wiggling themselves into the small crevices between her arms to tangle the tips together. Nat’s hands are so familiar with the feeling of Lottie’s that she doesn’t even need to look down to confirm their hands are intertwined purposefully. She can’t remember a time she was ever this happy to be wrong about something, even if she technically isn’t.
“It was sooo long,” Lottie whines adorably, shaking her head as she pinches her face once more in that playfully exasperated expression, “And this hoodie smells like you, which made waiting for you to come back soooo much easier.”
Nat can’t find it in herself to even pretend to give Lottie a hard time, her admittance so soft and cute that all Nat can do in return is smile, letting herself soak up the feeling that curls so surely in her chest as Lottie’s fingers twitch, grabbing onto hers firmly and keeping them connected in this quiet, intimate way.
“Whatever you need, baby,” Nat turns her head to kiss her bump tenderly, wishing that she could place another one on Lottie’s hand to emphasize her adoration, “If my old soccer hoodie makes you happy, then you never have to take it off again.”
Lottie purrs with contentment at Nat’s acquittal, the brunette slouching back against the pillows and letting her hand drop into the tangled mess of Nat’s hair to rub at the blonde’s scalp tenderly, a comforting, easy quietness blanketing them both in peaceful silence. The warmth of Lottie’s body radiating off of them coats everything in a soft haze of bliss that Nat’s eyelids grow heavier at, her ears listening purposefully to Lottie’s shallow breathing for any change in rhythm, the steady pounding of all three of their hearts against Nat’s cheek slowly syncing to each other until Nat swears she can feel all of them beat in perfect harmony, a metronome of love that her entire life has been rewired to follow.
“Can you believe we’re going to be meeting her in a few weeks?” Lottie mumbles gently and Nat looks up, her heart melting at the precious sight of Lottie looking down at her.
Nat knew she was in love with Lottie Matthews long before Lottie knew she was in love with Nat. She used to be embarrassed about that fact when she was younger- a debilitating secret that she bit down on at the back of her teeth despite all of the stolen, hidden kisses captured in gym locker rooms after the other girls left, or the brush of hands that lingered too long for it to be anything other than an unspoken desire they both didn’t quite understand. She knew their junior year that the incessant tugging on her chest every time the brunette was in the room wasn’t what she was supposed to feel for someone who was only her teammate, only a friend at the very most. And yet, she found herself falling- being tugged further and further, until there was nowhere for her to go but headfirst into the truth that she was too cowardly to truly admit to herself back then.
“No,” Nat admits honestly, her heart fluttering slightly as the words catch in her throat, “It feels like we’ve been waiting for her forever, and now it's all happening so fast.” Nowadays, Nat would argue that she still was the one who knew she was in love long before Lottie did; but it doesn’t feel so embarrassing as much, not when she gets to be the one who loves Lottie the longest, who gets to love both of them from the very start.
“Are you happy?” Lottie asks after another moment of contemplation, her hands stilling in Nat’s hair as she hears the quiet confession that curls around them so often unspoken, “That it’s finally happening after all this time of waiting?”
Nat has never told anybody this: but when she was seventeen years old, the night before they travelled to this very city to play in nationals all those years ago, she had the barrel of her father’s gun pressed against the bottom of her chin. The drugs that her dealer had given her made her head feel screwy, and the incessant rejection that everyone slapped on her for being the local burnout had rammed itself so far into her head that she believed she wasn’t going to be missing much by pulling a trigger a few years preemptively. Her hands had been shaking relentlessly, her breath rattling around in the empty hollowness of her chest in a way that told her she needed a cigarette to calm down before she did something stupid that fucked her up worse instead of killed her. She placed the gun on her bed and walked slowly to the window, shoving her hands into her leather jacket to pull out her pack and a lighter, her fingers brushing against something that she didn’t remember being there before. Pulling it out, she realized it was a crumpled piece of paper that had been shoved into the pocket listlessly, a little note that had been slipped in around her lighter to be as inconspicuous as possible. She unfurled the paper, the loopy handwriting as unmistakable as the person who wrote such pretty words that answered Jackie’s stupid campfire prompt.
Nat- I like that you’re a dreamer. It makes me believe I can have dreams too.
“I am,” Nat admits, shifting so that she is propped up on her elbow to look at Lottie directly, the gravity of the truthfulness in her admittance taking her slightly by surprise. Those dark thoughts from that night years ago no longer have a semblance of a possibility to her now, the loneliness of that abandoned seventeen year old feeling so far away that all she can do is look back and wish she could give her younger self the love she has now, “But I’m happy now too.”
Nat takes Lottie’s hand, pulling it closer until the brunette’s palm is pressed against Nat’s chest, right above the steady metronome that beats for the single dream that she has been able to live every single day after that darkest one, “With this, with you. With just being.” Lottie curls closer to her, their arms holding each other gently as they tangle together as much as they can with their daughter nestled between them, both of them unwilling to look away for even a moment, “I’m enjoying every last moment where it’s just me and you. Right where it all began.”
“Did you think it would look like this?” Lottie tilts her head with a hopeful smile, the edge of her tooth poking out in the same way it had when Nat first saw her all those years ago, the burning brightness of her brown eyes and depthless heart tugging Nat closer, closer, closer, “When you dreamed it up all those years ago?”
It’s the easiest answer Nat has ever known.
“No,” Nat shakes her head, looking around at everything she has been given, the immense gratefulnessness that she feels so powerfully it is almost blinding to everything beyond this, beyond the three of them, “I never dreamed it could be this perfect.”