Apart until now
2015

The most massive headache is starting to develop itself inside of Amy’s head. She ran into the bathroom the minute Alex uttered the earth-shattering reason why she left. It doesn’t make any sense to her. Her memory, her mind, they all made up versions. Versions that had nothing to do with any of this. They pictured Alex as a fucked up little brat, ready to dive head-first into the world of modeling at the cost of leaving everything and everyone behind. They came up with the image of that Latina hotness, ditching her loved ones and her education to chase the big piles of money that were luring her in. And maybe there was even one version … one that had kept her up for nights, that made her wish from the bottom of her heart she was wrong about: that Alex simply didn’t love her enough to stay. That it had all been a teenage romance to her and Amy’s feelings were so much stronger than hers.
But the real version of Alex follows her into the tiled bathroom and shuts the door behind them. She still can’t believe how great Amy looks. Her memories kept a perfect image of her ex-girlfriend, but sometimes she wondered if they enhanced all the perfection to be found. They didn’t. Amy is simply too good to be true.
“Are you okay?” she calmly asks, trying to act as if nothing ever came in between them.
Amy hears her voice and chokes for a second. She still can’t believe they are reunited here, tonight. After four years, she had given up hope.
“I hated you,” she softly confessed, with her hands on each side of the sink and face turned down to the crane. “I hated you for four years and that made sense. I was entitled to. But now you tell me you had cancer and …”
Saying the word cuts through her like a knife. It doesn’t really affect Alex anymore. It’s the most favorite word people around her have used during the past couple of years. She even knows how it sounds in Dutch now. Kanker.
Alex loved this person with everything there was to give. In fact, she had no idea how much she loved her until she left and found herself lonely in a country far away. And now that she’s looking at her again, the feeling is even bigger.
“That’s okay. I’ve been an asshole,” she tells the blonde, giving her the right to hate on a cancer patient.
But Amy disagrees. Her head starts moving from left to right, but in a slow way. This is too much information. And it only leads up to one thing: “You were sick.”
Her ex-girlfriend walks over to the other sink, on Amy’s left side, and leans against it all nonchalantly.
“People with cancer can be assholes too. Believe me, we’re not very happy during chemo. Almost dying does not increase the kindness factor. You get bitter and … asshole-ish,” she admits, going back a few steps in her treatment program.
“But …”
As soon as she starts talking, Amy shuts up again. What is she supposed to say? How does Alex expects her to react? Christopher must be worried sick, observing this whole charade. Oh, God, look at her, having a mental breakdown over her ex in the presence of her current lover.
“I thought you didn’t love me anymore,” Amy confesses with a fragile voice while she turns to Alex.
Hearing her say those words cuts through the middle of the skinny model.
“Because if you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me,” Amy explains. “It’s the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced.”
It really is. The thought that maybe Alex had fallen out of love with her nearly broke her heart. It made her cry for days – perhaps even weeks. She gets approached in a confident way and two warm hands cup each shoulder. The moment they touch, both girls feel exhilarated. It’s been years since they were this close to each other again. It still feels magical.
“I hurt you because maybe that way, you would miss me less,” Alex attempts to explain. “Look, I know that nothing about my past actions proves it … but I swear that everything I ever did – it was to protect you. Because I love you so much that I don’t ever want to see you hurt. And if that means hurting myself, than that’s okay.”
The words always sound a lot better in her head, she realizes. Even Amy shakes her head, completely misreading the idea of opening up her heart.
“That’s a fucking cliché.”
Alex smirks and subsequently shrugs to display innocence: “It’s a cliché for a reason.”
The seconds pass and with them, Amy’s resistance starts to deteriorate. Something about Alex makes her weak, soft to the bone. It’s in her eyes and the way she moves while standing still. Seems like things really haven’t changed since they parted.
“It’s just been so hard, without you. I was left alone and confused. You don’t know how it was. How hard it is to lose you,” the blonde confesses.
She can hit herself over the head for exposing her feelings like this. But she can’t stop.
“What?” Alex scoffs, in the most gentle way. “You think this was easy for me? You think that I just walked away and never looked back? I freaking cried every single night. For you, not for this stupid cancer. The cancer shit was easy compared to leaving you behind. But I had both to deal with – plus the guilt of lying to you. I did this for you, because of you. And I know you don’t get it. I know you don’t understand, but …”
They are repeating words by now. Truth is that there’s no perfect explanation. It’s just fucked up, really. Because the way Alex felt when she left, isn’t the way she’s feeling right now anymore. And the girl Amy was, probably disappeared as well.
“Never mind,” Alex eventually sighs. “I get that you’re mad at me. I’m mad at me. And that’s okay, because you have made this amazing life for yourself, you gained a lot in your career and your personal life. So I can live with you being mad at me.”
She’s coming to peace with herself, so it seems. This is what she told herself when she left – this kept her going during her darkest hours. So Amy could grow and work hard on herself. It’s good to see she actually accomplished her goals. Even if they don’t involve her.
But all the compassion and reasoning that have been going on inside of Alex’s head misfires.
“You think I cared more about my potential career than I did about you?” Amy growls.
With hands defensively up in the air, a cautious Latina steps back. She knows exactly how this will develop.
“No, no, no. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that … I’ve been faithfully yours for eighteen years. I took care of you, protected you. I was yours and yours alone. I loved you more than I loved myself. And I wanted everything for you. I wanted you to go to Stanford and have the time of your life. And for one panicking second, I bailed out. And it all leads to this. To you being amazing at everything that you do. And me being healthy again. So please, forgive me.”
Frustration is building up inside of their skinny bodies. It reminds them of the old days, when fighting was one of their favorite activities – apart from having sex all night long.
To soften the mood a little bit, Amy picks up one of the soap containers next to the paper towels and hands it over to Alex. She gets stared at, with confused eyes.
“What?” Alex asks.
Amy gestures at the wall: “Throw it.”
“What?” the dark haired beauty protests, like she would never even consider it.
She may resent her, she may be having vicious feelings concerning their past, she may think little of her right now, but she still knows how to unravel the complicated and intriguing personality of the person in front of her. Amy crosses both arms and patiently awaits the moment her former best friend will crack under the pressure of frustration. It takes her twenty seconds before the container aggressively whistles through the air. The girls start to chuckle as soon as the soap starts splashing around freely.

In the next room, where the careless dancing still takes place, David and Christopher remain seated next to each other, rather awkwardly. There’s no way in life David can comment on this situation without making the bad feeling Christopher’s experiencing even worse. He knows those two ladies by heart. He’s probably their biggest fan.
“So … how’s work?” he tries awkwardly, hoping it’ll take his mind off the ex-girlfriends drama for a second.
But it’s clear that his plan doesn’t work.
“Her ex is a girl?” Christopher utters, mainly asking himself.
The tone carrying the question sounds disapproving. David turns his head and frowns, feeling a little bit offended. She’s also his cousin. Nobody gets to say bad things about his cousin.
“Yes, so?”
The curly blond guy can’t seem to wrap his head around the secret past of his girlfriend. How could she have dated a supermodel and not feel like sharing?
“She never told me that this Alex person was a girl,” he clarifies.
Still, David can’t shake the thought of his table partner being a bit homophobic. Maybe it’s just the intimidation speaking. The fact that his cousin is also a Victoria’s Secret Angel might scare some guys off.
“Should she have told you that specifically, then?” he asks. “Like: ‘Hey, I once dated Alex, she’s a girl by the way’. It’s not like she was gonna say: ‘And then there was Kurt, who is a boy’.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Christopher rejects.
But a mocking smile lights up the air: “To me it is.”
It’s the truth. Apart from his cousin being a member of the gay community, David has never really thought about the nature of relationships. To him, love is love. You don’t get to chose the one you fall in love with. It just happens. And no matter if it’s a boy of a girl, it’ll fuck you over anyway. He takes the glass of wine in front of him and has a big draught. God, this was not the night he was hoping for.

“So, you’re with someone?” a calmed down Alex asks in a lower voice.
Clearly, she’s referring to Christopher. He’s way too cute to not feel intimidated.
“Maybe,” Amy shrugs mysteriously.
She’s not sure whether she wants to keep Alex in the dark out of anger or rejection. A lot is going on in her mind right now.
Alex sees the humor in all of it, though: “You’re a terrible liar.”
Honesty has always been one of the things she loves about her. But as the past have proven, she herself might have lied a little bit too much to laugh the comments away with Amy.
“And you are a good one,” is the smashing, cold comeback.
Slowly, Amy starts to realize that hiding anything about her current life isn’t the best option. Alex always knew everything about her. This is nothing to be ashamed of.
“Yes, he’s my boyfriend,” she then admits.
It almost feels like a confession. A secret that just came out and scares her.
“Oh,” the gorgeous model utters, while running some fingers through her straightened hair.
Amy picks up on the silent confusion, even though it’s too quiet to top the music coming from the other room.
“What?”
Alex turns her head to the door and sighs: “I didn’t know for sure. So … oh.”
The lack of previous conversations between them shows. Everything she says, whether it’s heartfelt of a cold lie, Amy questions. It’s a trust issue that drives her crazy. Did she mean anything by it? Was she expressing her dismissal about her finding someone new? A man?
“What? Was I supposed to give notice? I’m sorry, I didn’t get that memo on your way out of town four years ago.”
Alex realizes just how tensed her ex-girlfriend is feeling. It’s pretty obvious how little she has a saying in all of this. Because it is the blunt truth that Amy did in fact have the right to search for someone new. And even though it breaks her heart, the entire planned outcome of all of this drama was for her to be happy, right? If she is, that should be okay for her.
“No, just ‘Oh, how weird is it that I still get jealous the second you talk about someone else after I haven’t seen you for all this time’-oh,” she admits, staring straight into Amy’s gorgeous green-ish eyes.
It’s winter. It’s cold and dark outside. They only turn clear blue in the summer or when there’s really bright light in the room.
“Oh,” Amy softens up in a surprising twist.
She didn’t expect this reaction. She didn’t expect to feel so moved by her honesty. An exhausted Alex decides to call it a night. She’s had enough of the fighting and the drama. All she really wants right now is to have a glass of wine in her old room and fall asleep on top of the soft sheets that remind her of her teenage years. Her body makes its elegant way to the exit, but for a second it stops and turns around again. It startles her how this young woman can amaze her each and every time. How looking at her makes time slow down. How all the background noises disappear.
“You look amazing, Amy. Like, really, really pretty. And despite everything, I am so glad I saw you again. ”

It all flashes in front of her eyes in seconds. When the blonde finally allows her memories to intrude reality again, she relives the feelings she once had. The great moments of utter teenage romance. They acted like notorious old lovers, walking hand in hand along the river side while feeding the ducks or took a ride on the Ferris wheel to make out at the highest point. They’d talk for hours. Whether it was about photoshoots, high school events or movies they had seen, the girls couldn’t seem to get tired of hearing each other’s voice. And surprisingly, even after nearly three years of sleeping together, the nights filled with sensual, exhausting and passionate sex just kept coming. It was perfect – everything about them as a couple was perfect. The reason why she suppressed that knowledge for so long is because it reminds her how much she misses it. How she’s going to miss that from now on. How the scent, the taste, the touch of Alex Ochoa is going to be the missing part of her until the day she dies.
So it doesn’t take long before she starts chasing the ghost from her past. When she enters the main room, Christopher looks over to her, hoping it’ll all be over now. He saw Alex leaving. This is the ideal moment for his girlfriend to come over again, and resume this intentional fun night out. But Amy will let him down, because she flees to the nearby exit door, while looking at him with a stoic face. And David could’ve predicted this an hour ago.
When she finally finds Alex again, heading straight to a nearby parked car, she calls her name to gain her attention. Alex’s eyebrows scrunch to expose her confusion and she eventually stops walking. The girl is a supermodel for a reason. They way her body swirls across the concrete, how her hair gets driven by the wind and her long, gorgeous legs never seem to end – it fastens Amy’s heartbeat.
“Go back inside, it’s freezing. You’ll get cold,” Alex calmly predicts with a careless familiarity.
But Amy shakes her head in a hypnotized reaction and approaches her ex lover until they are just a couple feet apart. She can’t stop staring.
“I don’t care,” she mumbles.
The heartbreak when she left still leaves its marks. Because every moment they spend together brings along the aching feeling of missing her. Of fearing they’ll never meet each other again.
In an attempt to gather her thoughts, Amy holds one hand up.
“Did you come back, assuming I’d run straight back to you? To ask me to drop everything – my boyfriend, my apartment, everything I’ve worked hard for – and just run back to you and forget about everything that happened?”
The sudden semi accusation leaves Alex standing frozen. The coldness is starting to encourage goosebumps to take over her skin. She’s way underdressed to be out here in the cold.
“I – I don’t know what I expected, but …”
Suddenly, she doesn’t even know what to say anymore. What is she expecting? Are there even actual expectations? Of course she didn’t assume things would just go back to normal in a heartbeat. At most, she dreamt about having a decent conversation. Or a fight, like just now. In no dimension, even a fictional one, Amy and her would just lock eyes from across the room and run into each other’s arms. She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. Alex decides to let it go and walk away. This has been one hell of a night. They can talk about it in the morning.
“Ask me!” Amy suddenly demands as she sees her one true mystery resume her walk to the car. “Ask me to choose you and I’ll do it.”
Alex turns her head back at Amy and amusingly scoffs, clearly overwhelmed by the words she just heard. She must be kidding, right?
“In a heartbeat,” Amy emphasizes, gasping for air as she realizes that her words catch up with her feelings before she does mentally.
Her fingers are shaking, her voice is trembling. Everything about this is making her nervous. She’s begging and nothing about it feels wrong. Because if she doesn’t, she’ll regret it for the rest of her life.
“Fuck. Are you serious?” Alex mumbles completely taken by surprise.
Amy nods and takes another step to get her closer to her past.
“Yes. Ask me!” she say convincingly.
But unlike before, Alex seems to have grown up in ways she never expected.
“Shouldn’t we talk about this first,” she suggests with a half smile.
“It’s simple,” Amy clarifies. “I’m with Christopher and … we’re good. We are so easily and perfectly good. We share an apartment, we came up with a five-year plan, we’re talking about getting married and having children.”
This isn’t the logical explanation Alex was expecting. How did begging her to ask her back result into describing the perfect relationship with her boyfriend?
In a nervous response, she squeezes one eye shut: “Why exactly are you telling me this?”
“Because no matter how happy he makes me, he’s not you …” is the unrestrained reply.
That blunt. That simple. It completely throws the careful Alex off. It makes her heart race.
“What?”
Amy shrugs and almost laughs about it: “He’s not you and that’s just not enough.”
Her heart is screaming all the kinds of yes Alex can come up with. It orders her to walk over to that gorgeous blonde and kiss her for the first time in what seems like forever. But then there’s her mind, and it’s way too compassionate and logical to ignore.
“But, it’s the first time you’ve seen me in years. You can’t just give up on your life and pick me over him,” she utters full of disbelief.
“Sure I can,” Amy tells her.
She walks over to her ex girlfriend and cups her hands. The touch makes Alex’s respiration even heavier. The cold has turned her gasps of air into little clouds. This can’t be an actual reality?
“Amy, we have to talk about this.”
But the girl clearly disagrees. She gets closer and closer to her target, mind set on what she wants – what she needs.
“Look, we could go at this all night and fight. We could scream and yell and explain why we think the other one is wrong. We’ll be worn out in the morning and glad we finally said what’s been on our mind for years now. You’ll probably throw a vase across the room or something – the usual.”
A slightly embarrassed Alex smirks, but then agrees: “Probably.”
The hands that were on hers just now have moved on up to her bare upper arms. She feels the warmth they radiate. The things they make her feel.
“Or we could just skip that entire part and I could kiss you, right now. Because I haven’t done that in four years and I’m dying to kiss you.”
The pouty lips of the Latina have always been irresistible to her. They just taste so fucking good.
“You know,” Alex admits, while rolling her eyes playfully, “talking as a way of communicating is so overrated.”
The final sign of giving in. Amy’s assurance that it’s a go. Her slim fingers caress the sides of Alex’s cheeks and she dives in to kiss her ex girlfriend on the lips. When she does, the earth cracks open and the ground slides from under their feet. At least, it feels that way. Even in their wildest dreams, this kiss couldn’t have tasted better. It couldn’t have felt better. Because it is what it is: the fucking best.
The girls forget about the world around them and kiss until their dazzled minds start to recollect themselves. When they part, Amy pulls her in for a last, tiny, sweet peck again. It’s been too long to not take advantage of this situation.
“So you got jealous over my boyfriend right away, huh?” she teasingly whispers through Alex’s mouth.
There’s no way denying it.
“Yes. I was about to kick the living shit out of him,” Alex fesses up.
The jealousy has always made her look even sexier to Amy. Because there was always just one thing that scared the supermodel to death: the possibility that Amy might like someone more than her.
“So you haven’t changed a bit then?”
Alex confirms that with an evil smile: “Not really.”
This feeling. This togetherness. The familiarity of holding each other and not even realizing it, because it’s the natural behavior for their bodies to connect. It’s like the past four years never happened. Like that stupid mistake of not being honest and trying to be the bigger man was made for nothing.
But out of nowhere, Amy surprisingly pushes the love of her life back again to simultaneously slap her straight across the face. Not too hard, just enough to make it hurt.
“What the fuck?” a flabbergasted Alex utters, while cupping her cheek.
“That’s for leaving me!” Amy explains, suddenly feeling really relieved.
Alex starts laughing. Something about this strangely amuses her.
“Okay … A reminder: you don’t hit people with cancer,” she jokes to share her level of understanding about the sudden impulse that drove Amy to do this.
“Well, I just did,” is the confident response. “Because sometimes, people with cancer are assholes.”
Even though it’s just a comical throwback, she can’t help but feeling bad about it. Because every time she says the word, reality hits her. Her girlfriend had cancer. She has been through hell and back fighting this monster and Amy wasn’t there. While every fiber inside of her fought to keep hating Alex, every fiber inside of Alex was fighting to survive.
“I’m freezing,” she admits in a way to change the atmosphere.
“Told you so.”
The fact that her predicament came through creates a lot of joy inside of Alex’s little heart. Evil eyes stare at her.
“It’s your fault.”
But the amused model just shrugs and bends over to mock Amy: “Add it to the list.”

There it is, the bed that has always felt like home to her. The bed that is her home. It’s not the house, not the room or the people in it. It’s this piece of furniture and the moments she had in it with Amy. The tiny dress she was wearing is lying on the floor now. Nothing but these comfortable pajamas can make her feel more relaxed right now. Just a cute, pink top and some navy blue stretching pants. Her carefully groomed hair is now bundled up in a cute dot. It’s almost grown back completely. And thank God for hair extensions of course.
Next to the nightstand, three big trolleys are still unpacked. Somehow, Alex refused to give herself hope about staying too long at this place. Because staying here would mean running into Amy and that was an option she hadn’t prepared herself for. Then again, that reunion came by unannounced, like a slap in the face. Literally.
When the girls left the party, Alex promised to call her kissing partner in the morning. She was tired and slightly jet lagged, but most of all, overly impressed by the course of events. Apart from that, Amy decided she needed to talk to Christopher, about what was going on. She needed to break up with him. And tragically, part of her was looking forward to that.
After David walks by the door to wish her a good night’s sleep, she turns to the beeping of her phone. When she checks the screen, Amy’s name appears.
‘I’m in front of your house. Come and get me.’
The text makes her smile the goofiest smile. How stalkerishly cute is this?
She runs downstairs, opens the front door for Amy and finds herself staring at her too long. She guides her to her bedroom really quietly and gets distracted by memorizing the way Amy walks. She finally gets both of them back to the exact same spot where they shared amazing nights and forgets the correct counting order from one to ten without actually minding it.
“What did your loser boyfriend say?” she wants to know.
Sucked right back into reality, Amy puffs and raises her shoulders to express her doubt about the whole dramatic and tearful breakup.
“First, he said he just wanted me to be happy. And I said that was the whole point: I wasn’t.”
Alex’s mouth expresses the mental castration Christopher must have gone through when he heard her say those words.
“Didn’t take it lightly, I assume.”
Amy shakes her head.
“He said that if I truly felt that way about him – to just leave his ass for my old ex girlfriend, he was deeply disappointed in me. He got really mad, really quickly.”
She squints her eyes a bit to relive the awkward fight. For once, he was angry. Rightfully angry.
The curiosity takes control of Alex and she puts her arms around Amy’s waist: “What did you reply?”
The face of the blonde magically turns stoic, like she’s retrieving historic memories.
“The good news: that the surviving chance of that is about ninety-nine percent, so … he’ll live.”
A mocking sound leaves Alex’s mouth: “You did not say that to him.”
There’s not a chance in life the good, pure and simple Amy would pulverize a decent human being like that. Especially after dumping his ass over a girl.
“I didn’t,” the blushing blonde admits. “But how awesome would it be if I actually did?”
Unabashed over her fantasy comment, she slaps the sides of Alex’s bare arms. It feels so good being here again, after all this time. Just like this clear proof of perfection in front of her, she hasn’t entered this room in years either.
“Happy now?” she asks after being starstruck for a while.
Alex shakes her head to express her unsatisfied emotions.
“No. The thing is. You have been standing in my bedroom for over three minutes now. You are currently talking about the man you’ve been sleeping with for God knows how long. You are still wearing your coat. And on top of all that, I’m not being kissed or sexually attacked and that’s really upsetting me.”
Before the last words leave her mouth, she gets pinned against the wall by Amy. The aggressiveness lurking underneath the heavy kissing completely dazzles the Latina. She undresses her ex-girlfriend/recently reconnected girlfriend in a matter of seconds and stops and stares for a solid heartbeat when she finally witnesses the divine state of Amy’s body. God, she’s hot. Their crotches press against one another and despite the persistence of the making out part, Alex gets disposed of her own outfit rather quickly. Their blood is boiling. Boiling with desire and love. The fact that none of this feels rushed or ignorant surprises them both. While hands are instinctively caressing the skin they’ve missed for four years, Amy kisses her partner so hard that it makes it really difficult for the girls to breathe.
“I want to taste you,” Amy whispers in Alex’s mouth.
Her hands have been massaging the perfect, round breasts of the Latina lady, but start to slide down toward the area where Alex is feeling completely hot and soaked already. The fact that Amy uttered those words with so much underlying desire doesn’t help. Shudders run up and down her spine.
“So bad,” Amy stresses, while lowering her head to kiss her all the way down her naked body.
She forgot just how much of a sexual being she can be. Suddenly nervous, Alex forces herself to relax and after closing her eyes, she holds onto the wall behind her. Amy’s tongue reaches her already thrusting from excitement core and that makes her moan rather loud. Suddenly, she realizes just how quiet she’s supposed to be. There are five men asleep in this house tonight. If any one of them would walk in on them, that’d be worse than receiving a death sentence.
A very motivated Amy goes down on her for another minute or two. Seriously, though, a man doesn’t taste as good as a woman. There is nothing – not a single flavor in the world – that tastes as great as a woman. But Alex is tired of not feeling Amy’s tongue in her mouth anymore. That, and she’s about to lose all the strength she has left in her legs to keep standing. Her hands pull the blonde back up, so she can kiss her again. Then, under incessant guidance of their orchestrated movements, they lie down on the bed. It’s easier for them to admire each other’s body this way. To use gravity to their advantage. For their bodies to emerge like a puzzle.
The fingers of the model slip down to Amy’s naked core. It radiates heat. It feels wet and sticky at the same time. Her fingertip touches the part where Amy is the most sensible. Of course she didn’t forget about it. Amy shrieks impatiently and clenches a fist, with Alex’s hair between her fingers. Her jaw drops the second she experiences the familiar feeling and she can’t stop panting uncontrollably. This is what Alex does to her. And she can do it again.

Exhausted and overly satisfied on all sorts of levels, the girls are covered by the sheets and staring at the ceiling. It’s been quiet in the room for a while now. The sexual tension has faded off and playing around with Alex’s slim fingers has made Amy think about things.
“Tell me about the cancer. How did it … Did it hurt?” she asks.
Somehow, that part terrifies her. She can’t ever imagine seeing Alex without her gorgeous dark hair or too pale to look healthy. Yet, she knows exactly what cancer does to you. How it deteriorates a person’s body and mind. How the chemo aggressively attacks everything inside of you, even the good things.
“I was pretty miserable for a long time,” Alex admits. “All the things they talk about: throwing up, losing your hair, feeling like you’re gonna die – they all happen. Some days you just want to quit or escape from the hospital. And it’s never ending, so it seems. The second you start feeling better, they inject you with another thing and you’re back to square one.”
Amy takes a firmer grip around the tiny fingers.
“That’s awful,” she whispers.
Luckily, Alex is the girl to rationalize. She’s always reminded about how people close to her made great efforts to make her feel better again. Like her dad, when he took her to Bruges and Antwerp when she felt a bit healthier again. And David and Mouse. They lied for her for years.
“When I got through all of the treatment and I was in remission, Rick organized some little photoshoots to roll into it again. I still needed weekly check ups and blood work, but it was great to keep my mind off of the cancer. He was so careful with me and with everything press related. While I was out, he made the journalists and fashion people believe that I started studying abroad and decided to put my modeling career on hold. Then he got me back out there like it was the easiest thing in the world. In no time, the biggest companies started knocking on my door again, begging for me to join a campaign or run a catwalk. I wore a wig and stuff, but nobody noticed. And the good news is, I’m still gorgeous bald.”
She smirks over her own stupid joke and that makes Amy relax a little. The way their bodies are entwined set their heartbeats on the same rhythm. Hours have passed and they still aren’t ready to fall asleep. Alex is drawn back into the part of her life that was both exhausting as relieving. How she missed Amy through all of her dark days. How she saw her face and hers alone when the chemo kept her puking for days. How she prayed that if Amy would’ve witnessed all of it, she’d still think of her as pretty without all of her hair.
“Is it completely gone?” Amy suddenly needs to know.
Alex can’t give her the answer she desires.
“You never know. That’s why the check ups are for. That’s why I stayed in Belgium so long.”
The questionable truth leaves them silent for a while.
“And what about babies? Can you still have babies?”
Alex shrugs: “I’m not sure. We froze some eggs before treatment started. How it all should work out in the end hasn’t really been discussed yet. It wasn’t relevant yet. I just needed the option.”
Amy squeezes the flesh of her lover’s waist and heaves a deep sigh.
“But I’m back now. Back with you. Back at work. You know, even though I wasn’t ready to come back home, apart from the medical reasons, working has really helped me get back on my feet after all of it. And every day, I had the time of my life posing and meeting all these famous people again,” she resumes to recall her time recovering. “But then I went to bed, alone, and all there was left was to cry over you. Because no matter how enriching the day had been and how lucky I should’ve felt about being alive, not lying next to you in bed was the worst feeling in the world. For a while, I thought it was normal. I thought that missing you was okay. But these feelings just wouldn’t go away. The tears never stopped. I tried really hard to tell myself that it was over, since I realized how badly I screwed things up. It just didn’t feel that way. I don’t think things can ever really be over between you and me. Because though I was alone, you were with me all along. And it felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I had to – for you. You can be very far away from me, Amy, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t together.”
Amy’s heart is exploding from the romantic overload. At the same time, she knows exactly what Alex is talking about. Because it resembles a lot of her own experiences when it comes to missing that person you truly love.
“Look at you, all mature,” she mocks Alex to soften up the mood.
Her thumb is playfully poking each and every finger of Alex’s right hand. Her head is cuddled up against the cleavage she very recently sexually assaulted. This feels good. Familiar. Crazy familiar.
“I know, right?” Alex scoffs while overthinking her own speech. “It’s disgusting.”
Their bodies feel so good when they are glued to each other. After a silent minute, the blonde looks up and draws her girl in even closer. She cups Alex’s cheek and stares so deep into the Latina’s eyes, she gets lost somewhere on the road to forever. She can’t believe they’ve been apart until now.
“Promise you’ll never leave me again,” she demands.
Alex repositions her upper body and dreamingly smiles.
“I promise.”

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