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She promised.
Why would she keep making promises that she knew she couldn't keep? Carina had asked herself that question on repeat far more times than she would ever be capable of verbalizing; speaking the words would make it real.
Maya wasn't necessarily a liar.
No, she was too good for that. She meant well, and Carina knew it in her very bones. She felt it in Maya's touch and in the way her eyes lingered a few minutes longer than necessary before slipping through the narrowest opening she could justify. It was a quirk that she only partook in on the mornings she went to work. As if opening the door any further would compromise the safety of the house—of the bubble they created inside those four walls.
Carina loved the secret parts of her only she saw. She collected them like sea glass on the shore so she could pull them out to gaze upon with reverence during those times when the distance was too much to stomach.
She hated Maya's job.
How she had ever thought Maya's career was hot and mysterious, she had no idea. At some point, she had thought it had to be the uniforms. It was the concept of saying that she was dating a firefighter. It was that one time they found themselves mostly naked against the back of the firetruck. Carina had slipped on Maya's jacket in a fit of playful energy. The material had smelled of smoke and a million other things she couldn't place. It was heavy and oppressive. She couldn't remember now what she had thought it would be, but it hadn't been what it truly was. Then Maya's eyes had darkened—gone hungry. Carina had met her gaze, holding it as she sat delicately on the tails of Maya's jacket to avoid the rough plate that kept the back of the truck safe to stand on while wet. What had followed was the filthiest sex she'd ever had in her life. It was fast and raw, filled with young lust and growing love neither had known how to speak yet. In the end, there was no way no one didn't hear them or see them but they let them get away with it nonetheless.
No, now, she knew she hated it. She had started hating it when it took up time they set aside for each other. When it started to make unanswered texts punch cards for anxiety attacks. When she would come back covered in scratches or worse. Mostly worse. It was the first time she'd stitched up her wife in a med bay at the hospital, doing her best to control the trembling in her hands and the queasiness. There was blood on her gloves and it had been her wife's. She'd thrown up after the first time. Blood had never made her sick before, and she'd seen her fair share of it.
The second time hadn't been easier. She had simply gotten better at strapping on the mask.
She hated every part of it. She hated all the parts that kept her away from their growing family. She hated it for all the nights she had started to growing accustomed to taking care of Liam alone. She hated it for the moments he would ask about where his Ma was when she wasn't there to tuck him in for bed because she was running late or stuck at the station after taking an extra shift; most of the time without mentioning it before hand. She simply took the shift and left Carina to find out later after she failed to show up. Not that she wasn't present when she did finally open the door. No, she showered them both with love and adoration. It had been enough to erase all the pain points at first, but now the wrinkles were starting to deepen into cracks that couldn't be smoothed over with a soft gaze and stolen moments after Liam had gone to sleep. No, now she was starting to harden.
Carina rolled over in their bed, reaching out for the phone resting on her pillow.
No notifications.
Four hours late.
Dinner had been placed in the fridge after the first hour. A shower for herself and Liam had followed after the second hour. The third had driven her to bed and the fourth had shifted the frustration into fear. What if she was hurt? Again. What if she was somewhere else? Not that Maya had a proclivity for cheating but past experiences with previous lovers had and that was enough for baggage claim to dump off trauma that had no right to be sitting in her mind.
She rolled onto her back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. There was a crack somewhere up there but the near blackout of the room made it impossible to see after the screen of her phone had stolen away some of her clarity. But she knew it was there. Sometimes she would wonder if it grew on those nights Maya broke her promises—a thin area of the bubble.
She pushed the thought away. The roof wasn't going to actually crumble. She knew that. The house was sound. They were sound.
Mostly.
Was that a lie she told herself, too?
Swallowing, she rolled the other way and buried her face in Maya's pillow. It smelled of her shampoo and sleep. Hidden deep underneath, if she inhaled particularly hard, she could make out the scent of Maya's cologne. She'd worn the same sandalwood, lemon scent since they'd met. Probably years prior to that as well if Carina were to bet on it. It suited her—clean and woodsy.
'Come on, bambina…' Carina clamped her eyes shut tighter as if scrunching up into a tighter ball might send the message to her subliminally. Of course, that never worked.
Hour five came and went before the sound of keys in the lock sent Carina launching herself out of bed. Where anxiety had festered, frustration quickly washed back in like an uncaged tsunami. Now she wanted to fight. The urge to scream was eating away at her bones.
By the time Carina rounded the hallway, Maya was quietly placing her keys in bowl by the front door while kicking off her shoes, one hand bracing against the wall. Her shoulders were slumped and her backpack strap had slipped down to the crook of her elbow.
The sound of Carina's bare feet on the hardwood brought her head up. Guilt.
"Honey, why are you still awake?" Maya asked, her voice gravelly and tight. Exhausted. Carina could practically feel it radiating off her in waves. "Is Liam okay?"
But that didn't matter. Not right then. "Why am I still awake? Really? Madonna! Why do you think I'm still awake, Maya?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Your son is fine. He's asleep."
"I'm sorry. I didn't do it on purpose. We had a big call at the end and I couldn't text you." Her backpack dropped to the ground with a thud. "I truly am sorry babe."
Carina pursed her lips, teeth practically grinding. She had no right to be so angry and yet she was. Why was it always her that was expected to put on a brave face and accept the silence with a smile as if waiting patiently for scraps like a stray dog? Regardless of how selfish it sounded, it was how she felt. She wasn't designed to wait and yet, now all she seemed to do was wait.
Her lip twitched but she remained silent.
"Please say something…" Maya begged, her shoulders sinking further. "Anything."
Carina pinched her fingers in the air in between them—the unspoken request for silence. Hours ago, she would have done anything to break the silence but she was so far past that point. Now, silence was the only thing saving Maya from the angry string of thoughts threatening to boil over if Maya spoke one more word.
"I'm so—"
"Maya! Basta! Giuro su Dio, se non la smetti sclero [Enough! I swear to God, if you don't stop, I'll freak out]!" She shook her head, hand splayed wide in the space between them.
Maya's shoulders sank further, head hanging momentarily before raising with that weak tilt. It was her way of showing her belly as she accepted her fate.
Carina glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "Five hours, bella! Five! I've had to wait five hours with no words. You could have been dead and I wouldn't have even known, and I'm expected to just… What? Be happy? And what about Liam? Hm? You think he particularly likes being told that his Ma isn't home? Again?"
"I—" Maya snapped her mouth shut just as fast as she'd opened it. Instead, she worked her fingers back through her short hair. It had the audacity to fall back into place, and all Carina wanted to do was mess it up.
"It's not fair! All I do is wait! Wait, wait, wait! I'm sick of doing all of this alone." Angry tears welled up in her eyes. "Non è giusto [It's not fair]!" She wiped them away with the back of her hand. "Non è giusto..."
Warm arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in against Maya's chest. All she wanted to do was give in, to fall into her embrace. Her body craved the safety afforded only in her wife's arms. Her fingers tightened in the material of Maya's favorite jean jacket, pulling her closer.
"You make me so mad…"
"I know," Maya whispered. "It wasn't on purpose. I tried to be home."
Carina shook her head, face still buried in Maya's shoulder. "No."
"No?"
She pushed Maya back, gathering herself. "No."
Maya's brow furrowed. Questioning. "I don't understand."
She stared at Maya. Half of her words didn't even make sense to herself. They rattled around inside of her mind like caged animals—rattling the bars and screaming over one another until she was practically dizzy. She shoved her hair back off her face, rings snagging on a few errant curls that had worked themselves into a rat's nest while rolling around in bed. One part of her wanted to drag the woman in front of her to bed and teach her about what it was like to be made to wait while the other wanted to slam her fist through the wall.
"I hate this!" She fisted her hair and turned away. She wasn't even sure where she was going. She had to move. She could hear Maya walking after her as she assumed she would.
"Babe, I really am sorry. I didn't mean to. I never mean to. All I ever want to do is come home and be with you. If I didn't have to, honestly, I'd never leave."
Carina snapped on the kitchen light, flinching at the brightness. She smashed through the initial discomfort and ripped open the fridge to retrieve Maya's wrapped dinner. The glass container clacked dangerously on the butcher block cutting board next to the sink. She couldn't find it in her to care. If anything, the fact that it didn't break seemed to only make her more frustrated. Of course it would hold up to the abuse. Maya had gone out of her way to buy her good containers despite the cost. Not that she had needed someone to buy her things. She earned more than Maya. She could take care of herself, and yet, she'd come home to them as a surprise one day out of the blue because she'd made too much pasta one night and gotten frustrated by the chaos of the Tupperware cabinet.
"Carina…"
She didn't respond, instead choosing to focus on reheating Maya's dinner in the microwave. If she turned back towards Maya now, she would give in. She'd sweep the problem under the rug like always and she wasn't ready. Not yet. She wanted to be angry. She yearned to be angry.
"Tell me."
"Tell you what, babe? I tell you everything."
"Tell me what kept you."
"Oh…" Maya's voice trailed off, becoming quiet.
Carina shook her head again, her throat tightening. That meant it was not a great reason, or more like a reason she didn't want to hear. A fire. She should have known. Maya still smelled of smoke but the scent was so commonplace that she hadn't realized it at first.
"Tell me."
"I—it was a structure fire. On 6th and Cornelle. A town home duplex. It didn't want to go down without a fight I guess. Total loss." She spoke the words as one would speak of the weather while they pierced the tender parts of Carina's heart. Why had she fallen for a firefighter?
"No one was hurt. The only family who was home heard the alarms next door and gotten out by the time the fire spread. The others weren't there at all. Out of town for something."
"And you went in?"
"Yes. Hughes, Warren, Miller. We all went in."
Carina nodded, watching the timer on the microwave tick down. She yanked the door open as the contents began to pop, gave the beef and rice a stir before throwing the whole thing back in and hitting start.
"We were safe. Worked in pairs. Overhaul was a mess but we were safe." The island creaked, indicating that Maya had leaned onto it. No doubt with her forearms, hips cocked as she did her best to stretch out her back. She didn't even have to turn to know that was what she was doing. She did it daily. Even when she hadn't been at work. It was another piece of sea glass.
"I wasn't thinking of my phone. Everything happened so fast. I was in the moment."
The microwave dinged despite her attempt to yank the door at the last second to keep it from hitting zero. The glass dish was too hot for her bare hands and she practically threw it on the counter. She winced, waving her fingers in frustration and pain. Frustration made her ignorant.
Gentle hands slid down her bare arms, cupped the backs of her hands and flipped them over, exposing the slightly red finger pads. Maya's touch wasn't restrictive. She touched Carina as if she were made of glass. At times, it would drive her mad; she would crave pressure and security.
Maya's thumbs worked into the meat of her palms.
"Too soft."
Her touch firmed up immediately. Almost to the point of discomfort. Her hip bone on one side dug into the counter top as Maya pressed herself flush against Carina's spine. "Is this better?"
"Yes."
"Are your fingers okay?"
"Yes."
Maya curled Carina's fingers closed and brought her loose fist up across her chest so she could hug her while keeping her hands safely cradled in her own. Her touch was still firm despite the gentleness of the gesture.
"Your dinner."
"It can wait."
"Oh, so you just make everything wait." The jab bubbled past her lips before she could stop herself. She felt Maya's arms flex but she didn't respond. Carina drew a deep breath through her nose and held it to the point of strain before releasing it again. "Your dinner."
"Yes ma'am."
Maya reluctantly released her and took the hot dish from the counter with her bare hands. If it had felt hot to her, Carina couldn't tell; Maya didn't flinch. Carina didn't move. Didn't turn. She remained facing the corner of the kitchen, eyes staring through the microwave as she listened to Maya dig silverware out of the drawer and stir the food at the island.
The silence surrounding them was palpable. Suffocating.
A soft patter of feet brought both of their heads up. Liam. He was rubbing at his sleepy eyes with a balled up fist. One pant leg had worked its way up to nearly the knee and his favorite blanket trailed behind him. He didn't say a word as he waddled up to Maya and stretched his arms high above his head. Maya picked him up without question, allowing space for his legs to wrap securely around her waist as she held him close to her chest and whispered to him. She couldn't make out what she was saying but it seemed to work for him. He was already starting to slip back into sleep, blanket clutched tight between their chests.
Maya afforded her a quick glance and a nod towards Liam's bedroom.
Carina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was tired. So, unbelievably tired. The kind of tired that couldn't be weighed or measured; it simply existed as a constant reminder that no amount of time or sleep was ever going to be enough to catch her back up.
"He's back in bed," Maya whispered as she came back into the kitchen. Somewhere along the way she had shed her jacket, leaving her practically normal in black joggers and a white t-shirt. Her blue eyes were kind and searching despite the dark bags under her eyes.
The sight was enough to nearly break Carina's heart. Why did she have to love her so much? Why couldn't she hate Maya? She was the woman who kept leaving her alone to parent their child. She was the woman who never remembered to let her know when she was going to be late. She was the woman who ran recklessly into all of the danger, and yet, she was also the tenderness. She did anything she was asked to do without question once she found herself at home for once. She never yelled. She never fought. She gave without a thought for herself. It made Carina feel guilty, like asking for more was too much.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me." She picked up Carina's hands for a second time, gauging her reaction before inspecting her finger pads more closely. Carina allowed the touch, quietly yearning for more contact despite half of her heart screaming to run away. "How do they feel?"
"Like fingers."
Maya looked up at her through her eyelashes briefly. Years of life spent in each others company had taught her that gaze. "Don't be a smart ass." That's what she was saying without so much as a single word uttered.
"They're fine, Maya."
She still brought each fingertip to her lips and kissed them all. "Would you like to go to sleep too? It's late."
Carina nodded, allowing herself to be guided to bed and helped under the blankets. Her defenses were already failing her. Every stroke of Maya's fingers through her hair—every delicate touch—was soothing the beast. And maybe that was why the problem had stretched out through the years, slipping through her fingers unresolved over and over again; Maya's love had a way of making things hard to see. Harder still to remember. At least until the door closed on the bubble and she went back out into the real world and left Carina to hold everything else down on her own.
"I love you. You know that right?" Maya whispered, kissing the back of Carina's shoulder blade as they burrowed down into the sea of spent comforters and pillows Carina's fitful attempt at sleep had brought them.
"I know." She nodded once, resolute, as if to confirm it more to herself than to Maya.
"I'll do better."
"I know." The words tasted like wistful thinking. A part of her wished she could speak the truth, which sounded more like, "We'll see" rather than "I know."
Instead, for the time being, she curled back into her wife, allowing the dark and her arms hold them safe in the bubble. She was safe. Maya was safe. Liam was safe. Her whole world was under one roof even if it had taken nearly all night to get there, and for that—for a few moments at least—she would be grateful because it could be worse. Maya could stop loving her. She could stop coming back entirely and leave her and Liam to pick up all the pieces on their own.
"Goodnight, bambina."
"Goodnight."