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There was nothing admirable about self-pity.
Maya lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, fighting a silent battle. She felt teary. She felt bad for herself, and she knew it was all misplaced. All of it.
The fear had been piercing. She couldn’t quite shake it, even though she knew Carina was safe. When she closed her eyes, she was still in the cave, still wondering if Carina was hurt or worse. Images of Carina’s body broken and bloody haunted her thoughts and then…
And then she had seen Carina and Carina was fine and Maya felt like she was about to weep because what she needed more than anything was a hug.
“Idiot,” she mumbled, rolling onto her side. She took Carina’s pillow and clutched it to her chest, pretending she could still smell Carina’s shampoo.
Carina’s hesitancy, her fear, was all of Maya’s making. The fact that Carina was in a hotel room across the city was Maya’s fault too. Maya knew it. She understood it. She was working to accept it and learn how to be better. But it didn’t stop the fact that not being able to touch Carina was making her feel ill.
It’s not that Maya had expected Carina to fall into her arms. She was at work, they had literally been standing in a public hallway, and other than the brief afternoon in Carina’s hotel room, they hadn’t done more than text in days. Maya just needed to feel Carina’s warmth, she needed to feel her breathing…
You don’t get to need anything. Not after what you did to her.
The thought made Maya hold onto the pillow even tighter. She sniffled, fighting back tears, because she didn’t want to cry. She’d spent enough time crying. Once a week, Diane managed to reduce her to a blubbery mess. It was as humiliating as it was humbling, though Diane assured her that it was actually progress and a sign of strength and bravery.
Maya liked that. Strength and bravery.
Crying into her wife’s pillow in the middle of the night didn’t feel like it had anything to do with strength and bravery, but maybe it was more about the feeling itself. She was feeling. Diane would approve.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing, counting each breath with so much focus that she didn’t hear the front door of the apartment open. She didn’t hear footsteps outside.
It wasn’t until Carina opened the door to their bedroom that Maya noticed anything, and the sudden appearance of her estranged wife made Maya yelp and nearly fall out of the bed.
“Carina?” She gasped, sitting up, one hand pressed to her chest.
The room was dark, so Maya couldn’t make out Carina’s facial expression, but the way she held her body told Maya all she needed to know. Her wife was exhausted. And mad.
“I just…need to take a shower in my own shower, okay?” Carina practically hurled the words, a challenge, as if she thought Maya was going to deny her request.
Maya remained seated, still getting over the shock.
“Oh…uh…yeah, yes, of course!” She stuttered, but before she could move, Carina stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.
It was all so discombobulating that Maya barely registered what had happened until she heard the shower come on. It spurred her into action.
Carina would want privacy when she was done. She wouldn’t want Maya sitting there, gaping at her. And maybe Carina would want to stay the night? After a horrible day, she deserved her own bed too. Which meant that Maya had to vacate.
Not that she minded. She gathered up her pillow and quickly smoothed the sheets, wanting to leave things looking presentable. Appealing. Carina deserved a nice, clean bed. Not a tangle of blankets. Maya folded the bedspread and fluffed Carina’s pillow and then practically sprinted out of the room.
The guest bedroom was cold, but Maya ignored the chill as she untucked the quilt and sat down. She turned on the lamp and then waited, unsure what she should do. Go to sleep? Wait for Carina? What if Carina left? What if she hated the water pressure at the hotel and really did just want a shower?
Maya adjusted the blankets. She picked at non-existent lint on the sheets and fussed with her wedding ring and was about to go retrieve her phone so she could at least distract herself, when for the second time that night, Carina appeared unexpectedly.
She was wearing Maya’s clothes, which made sense because she had taken almost everything she owned to the hotel. Grey sweats and an old Station 19 t-shirt and a towel draped over her shoulders.
“You can’t keep showing up at the hospital,” Carina said, pointing her finger.
Maya felt the words like a slap.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” she tried, but Carina shook her head.
“Seeing you? It’s torture, Maya. It’s torture. And I can’t…” she trailed off, frowning, “I can’t concentrate or….or do my job…or do anything when you are there, so please, you can’t do that, okay?”
Maya forced herself to take a very deep breath. She wanted to yell, her gut was telling her to yell, to stand up for herself. But it was all so confusing. Was she allowed to do that? Did she have the right?
“I’m sorry,” she said again, watching Carina’s face, “when I heard about the attack on the radio, I panicked. I needed to see that you were okay with my own eyes. I know that’s selfish, but Carina…you’re my wife. I don’t know if you still want to be my wife, but right now you are. And I was not about to stay away while my wife was in danger. Or hurt. I’m sorry I upset you, but I’m not sorry for caring about you. Or worrying about you. I’ll never be sorry for that.”
Maya braced for more anger, for accusations. Instead, Carina’s shoulders slumped and she sat down on the mattress, her back to Maya.
“But that’s what I mean,” Carina whispered, “today I needed to be a doctor and only a doctor. Because if I was your wife…”
Her voice hitched and Maya watched helplessly as Carina curled her fist around the blanket, holding on.
“I watched a car hit a pregnant woman today,” Carina said, “I heard her hit the ground. It was awful, Maya. One of the most awful things I’ve ever seen. And the only reason I didn’t start screaming…the only reason I made it through the rest of the day without throwing up, was by being a doctor. So when I saw you…”
Maya wished she could reach out and touch Carina. Hold her. She wished so many things.
“Ross basically told me the same thing,” Maya said instead. If they couldn’t take comfort in each other physically, maybe they could find common ground elsewhere.
“Oh?”
“I was rappelling into a cave when the news about Grey-Sloan came on the radio. I didn’t have the most professional reaction, I guess you could say?”
Carina turned, looking over her shoulder. There were dark shadows under her eyes and her cheeks looked hollow, but Maya still felt her heartbeat just a little faster.
“The thought of anything happening to you…” Maya released a stuttering breath, still unable to fully shake the fear.
“Did you get into trouble?” Carina asked, pensive.
Maya shrugged. “Almost. Ross basically said I couldn’t be a wife or a daughter or an Olympian. I had to be a first responder. Like you had to be a doctor.”
It was an easy comparison. On some level, Maya agreed because even thinking about Carina in that cave had caused her to nearly fall. She understood the need to compartmentalize, to place Carina on a high shelf while fire raged, and find her again when everyone was home and safe.
Except Maya never fully put Carina away. There was a reason she’d insisted on her silicone ring. So she could keep Carina with her always. Even in the danger. In the smoke.
“I don’t think about being a daughter,” Maya confessed, “I don’t really think about being an Olympian that much either. Ross thinks it’s my entire personality, apparently.”
“She doesn’t know you,” Carina said.
“She doesn’t like me. I gave her every reason not to. But she was wrong about one thing today. When she said I couldn’t be a wife.”
Carina looked so guarded. She looked like she was one wrong word away from bolting.
“I am a wife,” Maya said, “I’m a first responder too. But I’m a wife. That’s what matters the mo…”
“Stop.” Carina stood suddenly, taking a step away from the bed. She wrapped her arms around herself and Maya could swear she was shivering.
“Carina?”
“I want to believe you,” Carina whimpered, “I want to. But how can I? How am I supposed to trust you? I want to. Bambina, I want to. But the things you said, the way you made me feel…I don’t know how.”
Maya swallowed, her eyes welling because she didn’t have an answer.
With a long, shuddering breath, Carina stared at Maya, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“You look like you,” she cried, “you look like my Maya. You sound like her. And I have missed you, I have missed you for so long, but you hurt me. You hurt me so much and now I am terrified to believe what I’m seeing. What I’m hearing.”
Were they broken for good? Was the damage too deep? Was there no fixing this? No fixing them?
“I got lost,” Maya said, “in so many ways, I got lost. And it doesn’t take away what I did to you. I know you don’t trust me, maybe you’ll never trust me again. But…”
The next part was scary. The next part could hand Carina what she’d been waiting for. Maybe even hoping for. And Maya realized that she had no choice. That maybe this is what Carina needed to let go for good.
“We need to talk,” Maya forced herself to stay calm, “and I’ve tried to respect your need for space. I’ve tried to respect your boundaries. But if we don’t talk, we’re never going to get through this. Unless that’s what you want? Because if it is, you need to tell me, Carina.”
Tears stole whatever else she’d planned to say. She lowered her head, hiding from Carina’s gaze, unsure if she could watch as Carina ended them. She had every right to do it. But Maya couldn’t watch, she couldn’t watch it happen.
The mattress shifted and dipped, and then Carina’s hand was on top of hers, holding on with cold fingers and a sharp grip.
“Sometimes I think it would be easier,” Carina said, “because I don’t know if I can live through this pain again, Maya. I do not know if I could survive it. But living without you?”
She bit her lip and shook her head, her face flush as she held back tears.
Maya felt her own resolve breaking, the sight of Carina’s wobbly chin making it more and more difficult to hold it together.
“I was so scared,” she confessed, “I was so scared that you were hurt and I wouldn’t be able to get to you.”
Carina’s thumb rubbed across Maya’s knuckles. “Thank you. For being scared. For…for caring like that…”
“I love you. I wish I could explain how much or…or make you feel how much…but, Carina, I…”
They were both weepy. Wet cheeks and runny noses. Maya was pretty sure there was snot on her t-shirt and Carina’s eyes were puffy and it was the most hopeful she’d felt in weeks.
A memory from earlier in the day came back to Maya, a memory she felt the need to share, as if sharing could help articulate all that she wanted to. Words were failing her, it was frustrating, because words were all she had.
“Ben and I stopped to check on Pru before I found you,” Maya said, her lips lifting, “just…made me think about a lot of things.”
“Like the night she was born?” Carina smiled softly too, a peace offering.
Or the next morning. The next morning when Maya had sent a text that changed the course of her life. She could still feel the nerves. Hearing Carina knock on the door. Seeing Carina for the first time. Seeing what Carina had underneath her clothes. Knowing that she had never seen anything more beautiful and she never would again.
The memory hurt. It used to be a welcome pain, the love and want causing an ache. Now it hurt because what if they never found that again? What if all she had left of Carina was memories?
Maya shook her head.
“She was in the daycare and I…you used to talk about our baby going to the hospital daycare. How you were excited to take him to work with you, to show him off to all the nurses,” Maya whispered, teary again, “and seeing Pru there…seeing her where I imagined our baby would be…even though Teddy told me you were okay, I needed to see you with my own eyes. Like if I didn’t see you, it wouldn’t be real. Like I’d lost you somehow. Like I’d lost him…”
Carina lowered her head, the quiet sob a manifestation of Maya’s inner pain.
“I used to imagine him there too,” Maya confessed, “I imagined him in so many places, Carina. At the Station rolling hoses. Holding him. Here with us. And then…we tried, you know? We were trying so hard and the inseminations weren’t working and I tried to stop imagining him.”
The hand in hers tensed. Maya could almost feel Carina holding her breath.
“I didn’t even know if you still wanted that,” Carina said, “I felt like I was watching you drift away from me. Every time the test came back negative. I thought you were angry with me. That you blamed me.”
Maya looked away, ashamed. “I messed up, Carina. I messed up everything. Because I never wanted you to feel like that. It just…it hurt so much. Everything at work was awful, but you…you and our baby were the one thing that didn’t hurt and then…it felt selfish. You were so upset every time and I didn’t want to make it about me. It’s not about me.”
“Of course it is, Maya,” Carina said, cupping Maya’s cheek. The contact was unexpected, but Maya melted against Carina’s palm.
“I was never angry with you. I never blamed you. I blamed myself. For not being able to give you what you wanted. For not being able to make it happen.”
“Oh, my love, no. No that’s not…”
“Every negative test…it was like the universe taking him away from us. Over and over. And I tried to stop wanting him, I tried to stop picturing his little nose and his little hands, but I couldn’t stop, Carina. I couldn’t and now…” Maya bit her lip, her chest feeling so tight that it was hard to breathe.
“Now?”
“Now I’m terrified that I’ve lost you. And if I lose you, I lose him, and I can’t…Carina, I…”
Carina surged forward, her body suddenly crashing into Maya’s with a hard thud of muscle and bone. Her lips were warm and soft against Maya’s, she tasted like salt and fear and Maya flailed against her, shocked to have her so close again. Shocked and overwhelmed by Carina’s fingers against her face.
She tried to breathe, but instead she kissed Carina back, opening her mouth for Carina, moaning as Carina’s tongue slid against hers. Her hands found Carina’s hair, thick and gorgeous and Maya ran her fingers through the strands at Carina’s temples, grasping Carina’s face, holding her close as they breathed for each other.
Maya only registered Carina pulling at her shirt when she felt cool air against her skin. It jogged her back to reality, back to what was actually happening, and she managed to grab hold of Carina’s biceps and put some space between them.
“Carina…” she tried, not wanting to hurt Carina, but alarmed by how frenzied her wife seemed to be.
“Maya, please,” was all Carina said, her lips swollen and wet.
“But…what does this mean? What are…”
“Please,” Carina begged again and the desperation eviscerated any logic or worry that Maya had left.
She let go of Carina’s arms and they pulled at each other, first Maya’s shirt, then Carina’s. Maya cradled the back of Carina’s skull and pushed her onto the mattress, the expanse of skin, the body that she’d longed for and dreamed about and needed suddenly so close. She kissed Carina again, and then dragged her tongue down Carina’s throat, licking at her jawline, at her pulse-point, scrapping her teeth over a graceful collarbone. Carina scratched at her shoulder blade, arching slightly as Maya moved down, unable to stay away from her breasts any longer.
She palmed one, squeezing as she swirled her tongue around a hard nipple, surprised when Carina hissed and pushed lightly at her shoulders.
“Sensitive?” Maya asked, knowing her wife’s body better than her own. Carina nodded but didn’t give Maya a moment to recover before pushing herself up on her elbows. It upset Maya’s balance, an intentional move that allowed Carina to flip her over, and then Carina descended, her mouth hot between Maya’s breasts.
Carina took both of Maya’s hands, pressing then down into the pillows above her head, holding her in place, as she licked a path from Maya’s chest to her throat. She lowered herself, her breasts touching Maya’s, and it was almost enough to send Maya screaming towards the end. She rolled her hips, gasping, barely registering Carina’s lips as they moved from her neck to her shoulder. A cold nose nuzzled against her armpit, followed by teeth and a hot tongue.
Maya arched again, desperate for more, and Carina seemed to be on the same page because she suddenly let go of Maya’s hands and started tearing at her sweatpants. As Maya kicked them down her legs, Carina stripped too, the sight of her making Maya ache.
“I missed you,” Carina breathed, straddling Maya’s thigh. Her knee pressed against Maya’s centre, the touch light but more than Maya was ready for. She cried out, thrashing, but Carina was there, cooing at her, gently kissing her nipple before moving to the other side, licking her, sucking.
Maya stroked her fingers down Carina’s spine, reaching up to pull Carina down, both arms wrapped around her back. She was so wet against Maya’s leg, wet enough that Maya didn’t hesitate before lowering her hand between them and cupping Carina, the wet heat against her palm igniting a spark low in her belly.
She remembered the cave. She remembered the vision of Carina dead. The terror at the loss. She remembered her fear. She remembered all the weeks of missing her wife of needing her of wanting…
Carina was crying. Silent tears streaming down her face as Maya slipped two fingers inside. Her lips brushed against Maya’s, her breathing shallow as Maya brushed her clit with her thumb, as she rubbed inside, as she thrust her fingers.
When Carina stroked between her legs, Maya tensed, holding her breath because the feeling of Carina’s fingertips circling her entrance was almost enough, she was so close, so close…
Carina’s hips were moving, meeting Maya’s thrusts, her voice strangled in Maya’s ear as she entered her, as she took her.
“Fuck,” Maya called out, “fuck…Carina…fuck…”
It was an awkward balance. Carina braced herself over Maya’s body, holding herself up on her elbow, as she moved in and out of Maya, as she guided her forward. Maya half-turned, keeping one hand in Carina’s hair and the other buried deep, the slick, wet dripping down the back of her hand as heady as it was intoxicating.
Carina jerked, her eyes slamming shut, and as she clenched around Maya’s fingers, Maya couldn’t hold back anymore, her release hard and fast, forcing a surprised moan from her throat as Carina called for her, as she lost all rhythm, as her fingers and Maya’s fingers stayed buried, stayed together, binding them. As if they could hold each other forever in this space, as if there was no pain, no hurt.
As if the heat between Carina’s legs was all that ever was and all that ever would be and Maya never wanted to leave. She was safe and she was home and she couldn’t bare the loss. The thought of it. She couldn’t.
She couldn’t…
Reality sent a chill down Maya’s spine.
She lay on her back, panting heavily, vaguely aware of Carina beside her. Her fingers were sticky and so were her thighs. She could feel a familiar ache between her legs and she knew that if she looked over, Carina would be equally dishevelled.
But she didn’t want to look.
Panic crept its way into her guts. She could feel her heart thudding as her lungs struggled, as she struggled.
“Maya?” Carina’s voice was hoarse, worried, and Maya still could not bring herself to face her.
Instead, she practically jumped out of bed, scratching at her throat as she tried to find something to cover herself with. Something to hide behind.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.
Carina’s towel was on the floor and Maya grabbed it, holding it against her chest.
“Maya?”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” Maya said again, finally raising her head.
Carina sat in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist. She seemed confused, her brow furrowed as she watched Maya dart around the room.
“Maya,” she tried again, extending her hand, “Bambina, please come sit…”
“No,” Maya sniffled, “because you’re going to leave. You’re going to leave and that meant something to me and it didn’t mean the same to you and now you’re going to leave and it’s going to hurt so much worse than it already does.”
The words tumbled out before she could stop them, her tight chest and accelerated heartbeat leaving her dizzy. She felt so naked. So exposed. She wanted her clothes, she didn’t want Carina to see, she didn’t want…
“Maya,” Carina’s voice was so kind, but Maya could barely hear it.
“You’re going to leave,” she whispered almost to herself, knowing she deserved it, knowing she’d earned exactly that.
Carina sighed and shook her head. “Vieni qui, amore mio.”
The three steps towards the bed felt insurmountable. Maya forced herself to move forward, she forced herself to be brave. And when Carina took her hand, she forced herself not to fall to her knees and weep. She’d spent enough time crying. They’d both cried enough tears for two lifetimes. Maybe three.
Maya dropped her towel, still feeling uncomfortably exposed, and Carina seemed to understand because she turned back the blanket and moved just enough to let Maya crawl in next to her. There was some shuffling, some awkward tangle of limbs, and then Maya found herself cuddled up against Carina, her head tucked beneath Carina’s chin.
“That meant everything to me, Maya,” Carina said, her lips against Maya’s forehead, “and I’m not leaving. Neither are you. Ti amo, Bambina. Ti amo.”
Two arms held her, and it had been so long, it had been so long since she’d felt Carina, that Maya couldn’t help but sigh and rub her nose gently across Carina’s sternum.
She closed her eyes as Carina started playing with her hair, her own fingers absentmindedly stroking patterns against Carina’s stomach.
The room was cold, but Carina was warm, and some of Maya’s fear subsided. Enough for her to breathe again, enough for her to believe that Carina was telling the truth.
“Was the baby okay?” Maya asked, resting her palm just below Carina’s navel.
Carina’s lips brushed her forehead again.
“Yes,” she whispered, “he’s in the NICU. But he’s alive.”
“That’s good.”
“Connor.”
“Hmmm?” Maya was sleepy, unsure if she’d missed something.
“The baby’s name is Connor.”
“Connor,” Maya tried out, “that’s nice.”
Carina nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind Maya’s ear.
“It is,” she agreed, settling back into the pillows.
Neither mentioned their list of names saved on Carina’s laptop. The nights they’d spent reading baby books and laughing at each other’s choices. But Maya let herself think about ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. For the first time in months.
She let herself imagine him again.
She wondered if Carina was imagining him too.
~*~
The bed was empty when Maya woke up.
She felt something in her chest shatter, something deep and buried and festering.
Until she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings.
She was alone, but the air smelled like coffee.
Maya pushed herself up on one elbow, gazing down at the space beside her. At the long strand of hair left on the pillow.
She wasn’t alone. Far from it.
Her clothes had been left in a neat pile on the edge of the mattress and Maya quickly dressed, the emotions of the night before replaced with curiosity. And just a touch of shy vulnerability.
She didn’t know how Carina felt about what had happened. If she’d be upset or if she had regrets. But all Maya could do was confront the day and hope that maybe, just maybe, last night had been a step forward.
The apartment was full of light, and for the first time since Carina left, it felt like home. She recognized it as home.
The scent of coffee wafted from the kitchen, but Maya paused before making herself known. She watched Carina putter around, dressed in one of Maya’s hoodies and a pair of borrowed boyshorts. It was so domestic. So familiar. Maya almost wondered if she was dreaming.
Carina opened the fridge and pulled out the oat milk before turning, a soft smile on her face as she realized Maya was awake.
“Buongiorno,” she said, almost serene and Maya could only nod in response, unsure what else to do.
Carina poured milk into a teal coffee mug and handed it to Maya before picking up a small cup that she’d left on the counter. She walked towards the living room, settling on the couch and Maya followed, sitting beside her, still confused about what exactly was happening. They leaned against the cushions, each pulling a blanket over their laps, not ready to return to the intimacy of the night before, but in a better place. A closer place.
Maya took a sip of her coffee, her eyes closing at the taste, and when she opened them again, Carina was staring at her, pensive, but determined.
“Okay,” she said, exhaling sharply as she set her cup down on the coffee table and turned back to Maya. “Let’s talk.”