Even Lovers Drown

“I’m sorry.”

Blake sighed, running a hand through Saylor’s red mane. She was apologizing. Again. Just as she had been doing since telling her ex exactly what she deserved to hear. Lying in Blake’s bunk at nearly four in the morning, the show long since over, this had to be the thousandth time she heard “I’m sorry” pass those plump lips.

She didn’t need to apologize.

“It’s okay,” Blake murmured, letting her hand linger on Saylor’s bare back before running her hand through her hair again.

“After everything you told me, I should have told you.”

Saylor hadn’t told her much of anything. Between apologizing and taking advantage of Hunter’s public-displays-of-affection clearance, she hadn’t had much time. But Blake wasn’t pushing her.

“You can tell me everything when you’re ready.”

“I do trust you,” Saylor assured her.

Assurance wasn’t necessary. Like the apologies.

“I know.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

She wouldn’t have done anything with Blake if she hadn’t been working past her trauma, let alone be lounging her bunk, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of panties. Their slow trip to getting know each other, their dates, their kisses, their embraces, nothing would have happened had Saylor not given herself a chance to trust another woman.

Blake pressed her lips to Saylor’s, silencing her next pointless statement. Gentle and loving. Silent reassurance.

When she pulled away, she mumbled, “I’m not mad.”

Saylor stared, anxiety drifting from her green eyes in slow increments, the statement breaking through each of the barriers replaced at Katie’s arrival. She uncurled her left arm and, in a movement awkward in the tiny space, held her wrist out for Blake to see. Neat cigarette burn scars created a triangular pattern, the same scars Blake thought were self-inflicted.

“She made those,” Saylor said. She pointed to her right cheek. The faint scar seemed more prominent under the attention brought to it. “And this.” She gestured to her right side, toward the scar Blake knew lay beneath the thin blanket. “And that.” She tucked her arm again. “They’re not going to go away.”

Reminders of Katie would always be there, etched in Saylor’s body for Blake to see. At least now, she knew where they came from. She had someone to pin her anger on.

Blake cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her scar. “Neither are the things she said to you.”

Words hurt worse than beatings.

“What,” Saylor hesitated, “What she said about you…” She shook her head. “You’re not stupid.”

Worrying about Blake when she didn’t need to. Tabloids and talk show hosts had worse things to say about her than Katie did. And she hadn’t called her stupid directly. She called Saylor stupid, had the nerve to say that in front of Blake. She only insinuated Blake lacked intelligence.

“Neither are you,” she said.

A soft smile pulled Saylor’s lips. She glanced down at the pillow, self-conscious, then met Blake’s eyes again. The green hue shone with hopeful insecurity.

“I’d like to go back to school,” she said, “To be a nurse. Eventually.”

Blake smiled. Saylor was confiding in her, letting her into her dreams for the future. This was good. This was great. This was exactly what they needed to move forward. Not sex, though the sex was fun, but to be able to talk about the things they hoped to accomplish.

Maybe Katie showing her face was a good push for them.

“I think that would be fantastic.”

“Yeah?”

Blake nodded. “And I’ll be there, every step of the way, to support you.”

Saylor’s smile broadened, toothy beam lighting her gorgeous eyes. Happy. She was happy. After dealing with the appearance of her ex, admitting to the abuse, suffering through mental demons for hours, she was happy. Blake made her happy. Her heart thumped in excited rhythm. She could make Saylor happy.

She scooted closer to Saylor, pressing her clothed body against her mostly nude one. Her hand dropped from her cheek to loosely drape over her lower back, the other keeping her propped on her side. Saylor didn’t push her away or cling to her in desperate attempt to rid herself of memories. She kissed her. A peck on the lips that lasted a mere second. Calm, adoring, a quick domestic action that a girlfriend would do in passing without thought.

They’d be a couple soon. One day. Tomorrow when Blake would take it upon herself to ask in front of her mother.

“You know what else I’d like?” Saylor asked, breath hitting Blake’s lips.

“What?”

“To have kids.”

Blake didn’t need a chance to think over Saylor’s desire, didn’t need a moment to let the implications settle in her mind before accepting her fate. Kids with Saylor one day felt right. Marriage, a calm life occasionally disrupted by touring or appearances, a house in a suburb, it was all right. It was what she wanted.

“Three kids,” Blake said, “And a dog.”

“A Golden Retriever,” Saylor said, “I like big dogs.”

“Looks like we are compatible.”

A declaration reminiscent of their first real conversation in that little Italian restaurant where Saylor refused to sit next to her. At Saylor’s thoughtful smile, Blake knew she remembered.

“I’m glad I gave you a chance,” Saylor said.

“I am, too.”

Blake closed the distance between their lips, firmly pressing hers against Saylor’s. They melded together, moving in the rhythm they’d long since found comfortable. Her tongue slipped past the plump, pink threshold of Saylor’s mouth and teased hers into motion. Heat kindled in Blake’s core at each stroke, their gently spoken plans for the future only adding fodder. Against her arm, Saylor’s skin blazed.

For her.

Blake broke their kiss, face so close their noses bumped, one more important thought burning in her mind. “I know you have a lot to work through,” she said, “but I’m here for you. We’ll make this work.”

She meant it.

“Blake—“

“No, let me finish. You don’t need to struggle through this alone. You have me. All of me. To help you when you have a rough day. To hold you when you cry. To celebrate when something good happens. Good and bad, you’ve got me. Remember that.”

“You’re going to make me cry,” Saylor warned, tears already beginning to glisten in her eyes.

“I just want you to know. This is new for me and I want to be everything you need. Tell me if I do something wrong, if I upset you. I might not always understand but I’ll try. Don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Good. Because I would never intentionally hurt you.”

Maybe she didn’t need to verbalize it but she wanted Saylor to hear her and know she meant it. She might slip up one day, snap at her when she was having a bad day, make her jealous just to get a rise out of her. She was human, she made mistakes. But she would never mean any of it.

Never.

A couple tears dribbled down Saylor’s cheek. Happy tears. Grateful tears. Overwhelming emotions forcing her to cry. “I know.”

Blake smiled, gentle, soft, her fingers tracing designs on Saylor’s back in feather-light touches. Saylor knew, Saylor understood, Saylor accepted her statements without fearful questioning. She didn’t need to prove she meant her softly spoken words. Because Saylor trusted her.

Her heart beat excitedly against her chest, promises of a comfortable future with her lover drifting through her mind in vibrant images. They would be okay. They would be perfect, no matter what they were forced to face.

“You make me really happy,” Blake said.

“You make me really happy, too.”

And Saylor kissed her, a tender declaration of her own adoration for Blake.