AA-meetings – Chapter 18: Aby

Aby

2019


Unlike before, Alex decides to pick up the pieces of her broken body and make the best of it. Her chemo treatments have temporarily stopped. All she has to do now is await the test results from her scans, X-rays and blood. It’s scary. It’s absolutely scary, but a diversion is the best thing that comes up in her mind to keep her occupied. She asked Amy to take a few days off. Of course, she did. The people at work have been very understanding when it comes to the illness of her wife. So has Rick Spencer. He’s crazy about his miracle model. This disease coming back nearly killed him. He cancelled all her appointments when she told him the truth and left with the promise that, whenever she needed something, she could call him. Among the people that picked up on her medical condition is the one called ‘the media’. In other words: then entire world. At first, Twitter, Facebook, news sites and television lost its collective shit over the news. But now, surprisingly, they lay low. It’s like they treat her with enough respect to go through it without dealing with too much media attention. She has participated in a few interviews over the last couple of months, mostly to raise awareness for her disease and to show the fans that even a Victoria’s Secret Angel can loose her wings. Apart from that, she stays away from the public eye as much as possible. 

It’s late at night when Alex is pulling on her shoes. Amy, comfortably changed back in her sweats after coming home from the nice dinner they just had, walks over to her and immediately wonders out loud what is going on. She knows that Alex has been acting out slightly reckless lately. There’s this whole ‘living while your young’ and ‘YOLO’ happening right now and the ever too calm and peaceful Amy has trouble adapting to that lifestyle. So going out at this hour is not appealing to her.

“Stay in, babe,” Alex joyfully announces. “I’m just going out for a walk.”

She’s full of energy again. That’s great to witness. The girl puts on a thick coat, some comfortable shoes and a scarf and smiles all the way through it. Her body is heading for the exit, but that’s when Amy clicks her tongue to make her come back. By the time Alex’s figure reappears, the blonde’s waiting with pursed lips. The Latina enthusiastically throws herself at her wife and presses a hard kiss on her mouth. After that, she’s gone.

“Be safe!” Amy orders her.


It’s been an hour. Maybe Amy shouldn’t be this worried. Maybe she should’ve joined her wife. Maybe she’s just overreacting. It’s only been an hour. She quickly picks up the phone and presses the speed dial anyway. Where the hell is she? And why isn’t she answering her call?

Amy decides to put on a pair of shoes and head outside as well. Alex isn’t exactly the person that enjoys a walk. In fact, Amy expected to see her pop up again after ten minutes. That didn’t happen, so just to be safe, Amy’s going to scoop the place. You never know.

After a good search through the neighborhood, she hears noises. Three blocks away from their apartment, in the midst of a little mass of curious people, she elbows her way to the middle of the spectacle. Her jaw drops when she finds her beloved, wig-wearing cancer patient with bare feet in a fountain. She’s spray-painting the statue of a man who obviously slew a few women at his feet. Must represent some civil example from a long time ago. Amy’s completely thrown off and makes her way over to the edge of the fountain. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. Alex doesn’t seem to notice her until her name loudly reverberated across the water. When she looks over her shoulder curiously, there’s the condemning expression of her wife. She freezes to the spot and fakes an innocent smile.

“What the hell are you doing?” Amy shouts, clearly upset about this spontaneous outburst of creativity.

But Alex likes to focus on the fact that the blonde wasn’t supposed to show up: “Oh, my God. You shouldn’t be here.”

She looks as if her father just caught her having sex. Amy recognizes the face, because that might have happened once or twice in the past. Her pants are soaking wet. Her coat, on the other hand, is as red as the spray paint she’s been using to graffiti this statue to demolition standards. They’ve passed it before. Alex calls it sexist.

“What the hell are you doing?” Amy demands to know.

The crowd has had its time to snap pictures and film the entire show and slowly, they start to continue their way home. As if it would make anything better, Alex decides to hide the spray can behind her back. Her face is innocently turned toward the cold water around her feet.

“My bucket list,” she admits. “I’m working on my bucket list. I wanted to do something illegal and -”

Amy’s flabbergasted eyes roll over the path of destruction that took place. She shrugs and sighs. This can never end well.

“You could’ve just smoked a joint in public?” she comments, hoping it’ll sound funny enough to calm herself down.

She’s trying really hard not to get mad about it. It’s true: it was on the bucket list. Getting arrested once. Of course Alex must make a showpiece out of it. Now that the continuous vandalism has stopped, the last of the remaining spectators have disappeared as well.

“What? And get lung cancer added to the list?” Alex ridicules her words with wiggling eyebrows.

Amy points to the spot next to her. You know, out of the water.

“Get out of there.”

But her wife amusingly refuses: “No.”

“Fine,” Amy scoffs while throwing her arms up in the air. “Then I’ll get in.”

“What?”

The blonde pulls off her designer shoes and jumps into the fountain as well. Alex should be surprised, or even a little part of her should be terrified to get dragged out of it by her wig, but she just starts laughing out loud. Amy makes her way through the knee-deep water, curses a few times over the chilly temperature and puts her hands behind Alex’s back to confiscate the spray can.

“You missed a spot,” she whispers before kissing her wife sweetly on the lips.

And so they make an effort to be graffiti artists while covering the fountain in a red color and fail at it massively. Good thing they chose different career paths.

The girls dance in between the splashes of cold water and chase each other while innocent strollers throw them curious looks. In fact, they are having the time of their lives. How many people can say they’ve done this? This careless and reckless behavior erases all the bad things going on in seconds. Alex is the only person Amy can act like a kid around. Even better, that’s how Alex likes her best. They accidentally slip and nearly go heads under once in a while, but that’s okay: it only strengthens the laughing kicking they’re in. In between the vandalism, they decide to color each other’s outfit red – sort of a reminder of this wicked spontaneity. God, it’s good to be alive right now. It’s cold, it’s the middle of the night and bystanders are staring at them curiously – some disapprovingly. But it’s great. Because they are having fun, so much fun. For the first time in a while, the big C has disappeared. Alex crawls through the water and grabs her wife by the wrist. She pulls her closer and kisses her with an immortal passion that makes them unstable on their own feet.

“You remind me of Taylor Swift songs,” Amy whispers through her mouth after regaining consciousness. “The kind ones.”

Alex smirks and realizes how the blonde’s sweetest words can make her heart jump. Even after three years of marriage, their romance still reminds her of the first few weeks they started dating.

“I’ll tell her.”

They are laughing until Alex has to stop running around because she’s out of breath. When Amy catches up to her, she leans against the lower part of the statue and stares at the captivating presence of her supermodel wife. Her fingers pull the worn out body closer and they kiss again. Long and soft and tender. This behavior has a strange effect on their sex drive.

But then the inevitable happens: a police car stops near the fountain and an annoyed offices get steps out. He gently makes his way over to the edge of the work of art and heaves a sigh.

“Can you please get out of there,” he kindly proposes, clearly too tired to indulge in some rough police work.

They look at him and gladly accept the offer. Their feet are as cold as ice by now. When they leave the fountain and pull on their shoes again, the officer – must be mid thirties – suddenly recognizes them both. Amy bends over to pick up her purse.

“You’re Alex Ochoa,” he gasps. “And Amy Wolfe.”

Suddenly, his eyes start sparkling. This must be the luckiest day of his career.

“Yes,” Alex confirms his suspicion. “Nice to meet you, officer.”

He quickly reminds them that he has to take them to the precinct and that it technically destroys their happy encounter. But Alex disagrees.

“Oh, no. This is exactly what I’ve waited for. Can you cuff me, please?”

Amy suppresses a smile and turns her head around to catch a breath. This shouldn’t be so amusing.

“What?” the officer scoffs all confused.

She holds out both hand to him and nods: “Cuff me. It’s a necessity.”

“No, it’s not,” he tells her. “I can just kindly let you take place in the backseat.”

Amy faces him and mouths that it’s okay. He frowns the most confusing frown and after giving it a second thought, he decides to do whatever they are asking him. The girls both get cuffed and they get escorted to the back seat of the car. As the officer takes his time to snap some pictures of the vandalism, Alex joyfully inspects the interior of the car.

“It smells like pee in here,” she notices. “I love it.”

Amy throws her a shady look. That’s when Alex realizes what kind of trouble she put her wife in.

“I’m sorry about this. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be involved into this, that’s why I didn’t say anything.”

But the blonde shrugs and seems very pleased about her own level of badass: “Are you kidding me? I’m loving this.”

Alex is very pleased. She kinda knew that there’s only one person in the world who could share this experience with her if it came down to it. But her mind starts working and the next few imaginary steps of the process appear in front of her eyes. That’s when a mysterious smile colors her face. Amy notices and asks what’s wrong.

“I’m a model,” Alex explains overly confident. “I should have a gorgeous mug shot.”


“Do you think that dogs sometimes see police dogs and be like: ‘Oh, fuck, it’s the cops!’, like we do?”

Amy’s on the floor, on her back, staring at a sleeping K9 on the other side of the cell bars. Her famous wife can’t stop smiling over this whole adventure and the witty comment doesn’t make her stop. This is awesome to her. Being in jail is awesome.

Officer Matthews, who took them in, has learned the truth behind the spontaneous urge to destroy government property. Just like every person on this planet, he’s read about Alex’s battle against cancer in some gossip magazine or in the paper. So when Amy started explaining it all, he had a hard time to follow the rules. Alex told him not to feel guilty about it, though. She wanted this. It was on her bucket list.

And so the girls went through initial processing and left their fingerprints for the national database. While doing so, they felt badass. It was quite the spectacle. Mainly because officer Matthews explained their motives to the rest of his colleagues. Even the captain came to have a look and smoothly introduced himself to the famous pair. In fact, for some reason, this place is currently packed with uniforms. One by one, they have asked for selfies or signed pictures. Of course, Alex happily accepted the requests. She looks skinnier now, and clearly sick, but it’s good to know that her fans still think she’s pretty.

Suddenly, a well-known face appears in front of the cell. It’s George, confused to the bone about this whole charade. It’s late and he looks kind of sleepy.

“Hi daddy!” Alex enthusiastically shrieks.

He just shakes his head: “Are you freaking kidding me?”

She assures him it’s fine. Officer Matthews told them there’d just be a fine for having the statue cleaned.

“This bucket list thing has to stop, Alex,” he tells her.

But she disagrees: “I’m almost done, daddy. Given, this was the most reckless part.”

“Can’t you just go skydiving or go on a holiday to Bali?” he sighs, waiting for one of the officers to open the highly secured door.

“I’ve been to Bali,” his daughter responds dryly. “Twice. And you want me to fall out of an airplane?”

But as their freedom seems closer than ever, she realizes it might not be a kid’s greatest gift to have their parents bail them out of jail.

“I’m sorry, dad. I’m really, really, really …”

He holds up his hand in an objective way and ignores the comment. He’s in no position to be mad about it. And by the looks of it, she’s not even serious about it. Miss Alex gets away with everything now that she’s sick. Amy crawls up on her feet and entwines their hands. They leave the precinct after thanking all the men and women who work hard for this city. Most of them can see the fun side in it.

“Just get in the car,” George yawns, while holding the door open for his little girl.

“Okay,” she humbly utters.

She’s acting all innocent, like nothing has happened. After putting her first feet in the car, she stops to turn around and kiss his cheek. Spontaneously, lovingly.

“Thank you, daddy,” she says, very seriously this time.

That’s when his annoyance disappears and concern surfaces: “Oh, for God’s sake. Are you okay?”

Amy is sitting in the back seat by now. She’s surprisingly quiet, mostly not to disturb the father-daughter moment.

“I am,” Alex tells him. “I really am. I feel alive.”

He raises an eyebrow: “Glad that breaking the law has such a vivid reflection on you.”

It’s clear that George would handle things differently. He knows just how expressive and dramatic his creation can be. Times like these reminds him all the more of his late wife.

“Don’t worry, daddy. I’m too pretty for prison,” she assures him with an attitude that makes Amy chuckle.

After taking a seat and buckling up, George starts the car to head home. It’s late by now. He wants to know if they want to sleep over at the Ochoa house. Amy says she’d love to, for old time’s sake.

“Should we not mention this to granddad?” Alex hesitantly wonders.

But her father starts snorting through his clenched teeth.

“Are you kidding me? Granddad’s been in jail more than you have. He’ll love the story.”

The Latina turns her confused eyes at him and finds herself in shock.

“Excuse me, what?”

George rolls his eyes and mysteriously smiles. Yeah. Fun times.


The morning sun eagerly intrudes the bedroom of the ladies and the warmth of the rays of sun wakes Amy up without her permission. She yawns and turns her head, only to find the framed pictures of the two occasional criminals hanging on the left side of the room. Seriously, Alex is too proud about that event. Given, they look gorgeous and badass at the same time.

She finds the happily dreaming love of her life close beside her, snuggled up against her shoulder, as always. Amy’s lips find the tip of Alex’s nose and she kisses it repeatedly to wake her up slowly. The Latina mysteriously starts to smile and that’s a go for Amy to proceed the tender smooching. She moves her mouth to the cheeks she adores, then the lips that were made to caress her skin all day long. The waking-up moaning translates to delightful moaning. Alex wraps her skinny arms around her wife’s neck and pulls her closer.

“I had a dream about you last night,” Alex’s husky voice tells her.

That excites Amy in more than one way. Her fingers are running up and down the caramel skin she knows so well. Quickly, her left hand disappears under the shirt that’s blocking her view. She touches the bareness of Alex boobs and that makes them both quiver.

“Oh, you did, huh? I sense a moment here,” Amy replies in a naughty way.

She squeezes the flesh she’s holding and Alex arches her back with frustration. Her lower lip has turned white from biting it too hard. Amy continues to kiss her neck and collarbone area. She knows it drives her wife crazy. Their bodies are grinding against each other, so orchestrated – it reflects the way they’ve been doing it for years now. Alex digs her nails deep into Amy’s skin and it hurts just enough to be enjoyable.

“And my dad was there as well,” Alex continues.

That’s when Amy’s moves completely, abruptly stop.

“Okay, moment passed,” she coughs, while crawling on her hands and knees.

She looks down to find the peaceful smile of the girl she’d die for. She’s so beautiful. Even after everything, with her hair all fluffy and short, she can’t imagine ever waking up next to anyone else. Without realizing, she nearly brings herself to cry. Tears are welling up in her eyes and she nervously sighs to get rid of the depressing vision of herself in this bed alone one day. Alex can’t notice something’s wrong and for once, her wish comes true. The Latina seems to be dragged into the dream she woke up from just a second ago. Her hands are still wrapped around Amy’s back.

“Well, what did you dream about?” Amy curiously wonders.

The person lying underneath her starts to blush massively.

“I dreamt we had a threesome,” she admits, avoiding eye contact.

Amy smirks and frowns at the same time: “And how exactly was your dad part of that dream?”

Her wife slaps the imaginary vision out of the room and shakes her head very convincingly: “Oh, that was another scene.”

“Scene?”

Amy is getting more confused with every second that passes. But her famous spouse just shrugs. She always dreams in movie scenes. Doesn’t everybody? The blonde nervously chuckles and puffs.

“Would you like to have a threesome?”

She’s not sure if general interest or curiosity sparks the question.

“I don’t know. Would you?”

Amy crawls off of her and sits up straight, back turned to Alex. She shrugs and her wife can’t read what that means.

“I’m just kidding,” Alex quickly utters, sort of representing an apology.

The posture of the woman she married remains unchanged. That’s when the Latina reconsiders things.

“Unless you’re totally okay with it,” she adds.

Amy turns around again and twitches her nose. She doesn’t know how to feel about all of it. Is it supposed to flatter or insult her?

“Seriously?”

Alex shrugs and pushes herself up: “Yeah.”

The trembling in her voice gives away the nerves rushing through her body. There are a few details that disturb Amy.

“Is this on your bucket list?” she eventually asks.

Something tells her it is. Alex should write it down, that damn list. She never seems to remember it.

“Yes,” Alex honestly answers.

Amy crawls closer again and starts to stroke the lower, caramel-toned bare arm in front of her.

“So you’re telling me you’ve never had a threesome before? Not even in those four crazy years without me?” she teases.

Faintly squeezed eyes – due to the sunlight – accusingly stare at her.

“I knew you thought of them as a long-lasting lesbian orgy.”

“Well, were they?”

Alex faces the provoking expression taking over Amy’s face and she hesitates while stuttering.

“Yes,” she ultimately admits. “But that doesn’t matter. I want to have a threesome that involves you. Don’t you see, my entire bucket list involves you.”

Amy sets the facts straight right away: “You got your tattoo on your own. And I had to find you in that fountain.”

She’s secretly enjoying this weirdly comical conversation.

“Why are you such a savant?” Alex asks.

Amy frowns all offended: “Are you calling me old?”

The Latina puts three fingers on her forehead to exhale the frustration: “No! I’m saying that you remember everything that once happened.”

Amy stares at her for a silent moment and contemplates the options. Something tells her this isn’t a great idea. But Alex might be dying. And this is what she wants. She heaves a frustrated sigh and partly gives in the second she asks about Alex’s specifics about the conceivable event.

Her wife has thought things through, though. It should involve a man, not a woman, because Alex thinks it might get confusing with three women.

“How do I know which one I’ll be holding in my hands? There’ll be to many boobs,” she justifies her belief.

It’s backed up with experience. Amy is too startled to comment and remains quiet. In the end, she stares into the enthusiastic eyes of the person that makes her happier than anyone has ever done and hesitantly agrees.

It takes exactly two days before Alex has arranged everything to execute her plan. She claims to have found the perfect victim for their innocent little threesome. Amy’s nervous about it. Part of her doesn’t want it. What if she won’t like it? What if she will? She hasn’t had sex with men in forever and that’s fine. It’s not like she’s missing it. In fact, she thinks it’s better with women. Woman. Alex.

Besides, the Latina never even did have sex with a man before. If this were her, she’d be terrified as hell. But the persistence and determination of her wife seems to work wonders. When the doorbell rings, Amy’s heartbeat skyrockets, while Alex calmly makes her way over to the hallway. When she returns, Amy fakes a faint smile.

“Hi Jeffrey.”

That’s right: Jeffrey McFree. Intriguing brown eyes, long hair, sharp face. Supermodel. Given, there are worse options. The first time Amy ever saw him taking his shirt off, her lady parts started to tingle. Sometimes, they still do.

He smiles at her and winks. The boy is wearing a tight shirt. It brings out his abs. Amy loves abs.

Alex surprisingly claps her hands as if this is one orchestrated photoshoot and then invites both of them into the bedroom. Amy gets on her feet and briefly looks up to Jeffrey, who’s feeling just as uncomfortable. Alex called him and explained the offer. Jeffrey enthusiastically agreed, but now he’s here, he’s a bit reluctant for some reason.

They enter the room and find a determined Alex stripping down to her sexy lingerie. She’s skinnier than Jeffrey remembers from previous encounters. Of course she’s wearing her wig. Nobody except her family’s allowed to see her without a wig.

Amy heaves a nervous sigh and wonders how on earth she’s ever going to get aroused feeling like this. She walks over to Alex and faces her, only to discover a weird sparkle in her eyes. Alex unbuttons her blouse and jeans. She softly kisses the side of Amy’s lips and allows her fingers to strokes the blonde’s waist as if to assure her it’ll all be okay. Jeffrey closes them in and takes off his shirt. His abs! Oh – Amy remembers them. She shivers by the sight of it. He’s confident this will all figure itself out, so he goes in for the first kiss. Just as his lips touch Amy’s frozen face, Alex suddenly surprises them both by yelling “Stop!”.

They look up and find her shaking her head excessively. Her entire attitude has shifted completely and Amy couldn’t be happier about it.

“This is … a mistake,” the Latina utters. “I’m sorry but I can’t do this.”

Amy pushes Jeffrey back so his bare chest is not longer touching the edge of her bra and heaves the most relieved sigh in history. Oh, this is good. This is more than good.

“What do you mean?” Jeffrey asks, curving his gorgeous eyebrows.

“I changed my mind,” his colleague explains. “I do not want to have a threesome anymore.”

“Why not?” he wonders.

Yes, he’s not being subtle about the disappointment. The guy’s actually really into Amy. Alex takes a second to think about it and shrugs, as a way to apologize.

“Well, my fake hair might be straight, but I’m not. I can’t do this,” she then turns her head to her wife. “Plus, I am programmed to kill every single person that puts his hands on you. So it wouldn’t work.”

Amy’s smile is enchanting. This amazing feeling overcomes her and she mouths the obvious conclusion: “You’re so jealous.

“I am,” Alex assures her, loud enough for Jeffrey to understand this time. “And you love that about me.”

Amy enthusiastically throws both arms around her neck. She kisses Alex intensely and pulls her even closer than imaginable.

“I love everything about you.”

The flabbergasted male model is still in the room, though he gets the impression that they randomly forgot about him: “So, I just leave?”

Alex turns her head and grins while Amy puts wet kisses along her neck.

“Like this never happened,” she tells him, kind of threatening.

He is seeking for inner peace and looks at her: “Can’t I even brag about it?”

Amy’s hands are now caressing Alex’s sensitive back. She loves it when the blonde scratches her nails all the way down her butt.

“Not if you want me to tell your fashion designer sugar daddy,” Alex responds, well aware of the weird agreement he and Alexander Dubrov have going on.

“That’s not fair,” Jeffrey smiles faintly.

The Latina shrugs and pushes Amy back a little, because this whole hooking up thing is dazzling her mind. Seriously, it’s getting hard to think while being sexually attacked.

“Be a man!” she orders Jeffrey.

Suddenly, Amy turns her head his way as well: “Yeah, like Alex.”

The girls both smirk. The guy disappears. And they have awesome sex. Just the two of them.


All electricity has been turned off when Amy enters the barely lit room. What she does see are the candles decorating the apartment. She’s genuinely confused but quickly realizes that this is some romantic effort of her wife. Alex’s been feeling surprisingly well, lately. Next week, they have to return to the hospital, to discuss further options with Dr. Cullers. Even Dr. De Weerdt is flying in for the weekend. The girls are trying hard not to think about it. Because it frightens them. Alex not getting any better frightens them. Because the only reason she’s not as weak and sick as before, is because the worst part of her treatment is over.

After dropping her purse and bag on the dinner table, she enters the bathroom to find Alex taking a long soak in the bathtub. She leans against the doorway and playfully says hi. The Latina looks up to her and softly smiles. There’s relaxing music filling the space.

“What are you doing?” Amy wonders.

“I felt like having a pool party,” Alex explains. “But then I realized it’s winter.”

Amy walks over to her and takes a seat on the edge of the tub. She kisses the wet forehead of her lady lover and asks how her day went.

“Good. We have to be at David’s in an hour. Eli is coming. They are bringing the baby.”

Her eyebrows are wiggling all excited. It’s the cutest ever. A baby girl for a change. Such a relief for the Ochoa family. The end of the boy area is over. Alex’s birth changed that and now it’s official. Her name is Macy and she’s to die for.

“Oh, really?”

Alex shrugs: “We just decided. You want to come? Do you need to get ready?”

Amy nods and points out her outfit: “I can’t go wearing my dirty clothes, sweetie.”

Alex has a way of sorting that out, though. She surprises her wife by dragging her into the bathtub and after being dipped head under, the flabbergasted expression on her face amuses the model until she starts snoring from laughter.

“What the hell!” Amy shrieks.

But she starts to laugh immediately as well. She crawls up on her feet and gets rid of her soaking wet clothes. Alex carefully watches. Then the blonde sits down in between Alex spread legs, her back positioned against her naked chest. She loves being the little spoon.

“Just tell me if you want to take a bath together, lunatic,” she smirks.

Alex ignores the insult and starts massaging her wife’s tensed shoulders. Every now and then, she can’t refrain from kissing the soft skin. She washes her with her bare hands and Amy loves it. Suddenly, a cellphone reverberates through the room. Amy tends to get up to answer the call, but Alex orders her not to. Her arm literally push her down.

“Don’t. This is you and me time,” she states.

Her words quickly turn softer: “Please, don’t pick up.”

Amy’s in the middle of some stressful contract renewal at work. She’s been spending a lot of time at the movie studios. Yet, nothing is as important as this little intermezzo of the married fools. She agrees to let it go for now and leans back. As she does, she experiences the sensation of Alex’s naked upper body against her back. This is lovely. This is careless and sweet. With nothing but candles lightening up the place, Amy starts to wonder why they don’t do this more often.

“I love you,” she says.

Alex smiles all enchanted and kneads the shoulders a little bit more caring.

“I love you too.”


Once they arrive at David and Julia’s place, it’s clear there’s still some grocery shopping that needs to be done. Amy offers to tag along with Julia, while David continues the arrangements for the cosy night they have planned. Blogger boy has turned into a wonderful chef. Whether he’s at home, or crossing the world for projects, he never gets tired of cooking and experimenting with food.

Susan regrets to inform them she can’t make it over the phone. There’s something going on at work that’ll require her to stay all night. Eli and Jessy are running late, as usual. Having a newborn has that effect on time management. To the point where time management is nothing but a description of a past luxury.

The second the giggling Julia and Amy storm through the front door, carrying bags filled with food and drinks, David meets them in the hallway. He takes the heavy bags from them and shushes them. His head gestures to the nearby living room area. It doesn’t take long for Amy to realize what’s going on. She turns the corner and finds her wife asleep on the couch. David put a blanket over her, so she wouldn’t get cold. Her new glasses – Alex needs them now since her eyes have deteriorated – are on the arm rest.

Next to her, on the ground, the grown up Calvin is keeping watch. Even though she’s slightly allergic to him, Alex’s hand is positioned on his back. The adorable Labrador is checking the place for newbies and Amy can swear he’s smiling at her when she gets closer. He doesn’t get up, though, because that might wake Alex. The blonde pets his head and whispers hello. When she stares at her exhausted wife, her heart hurts a little. The condition of Alex worries her, all the time, wherever she goes. Just an hour ago she was fine. She was fun and alive. Now she’s worn out just by driving over to David’s. Her lips touch the forehead that feels hot. It wakes the model up, but not enough to regain complete consciousness.

“Sorry, I must have fallen asleep,” she apologizes while trying to orientate herself.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Amy tells her. “Just stay here, we’re going to make dinner and I’ll wake you up when it’s ready.”

A year ago, Alex would’ve enthusiastically jumped up on her feet and challenged her to get to the kitchen first. But that level of energy is long gone. The once sparkling model accepts the state she’s in and nods in a defeated way.

“Okay,” she whispers.

Her eyes are closed again by now. Like they are too heavy.

“I love you,” she mumbles through her tiredness.

Amy gets up on her feet and walks over to the door that’ll lead her to the kitchen. She heaves a sad sigh and refrains an emotional feeling to take over her mindset.

“I love you too.”

It’s the second time she says it today. But this time it sounds bittersweet.


An hour later, everything’s set to kick off the cosy night. David kisses his girlfriend long and lovingly after they sit down around the massive dinner table. He’s happy. So very happy that it nauseates his brother – who finally showed up. Alex is sitting across him, clearly still tired. Her wife is too absorbed by the presence of little Macy to look at her, though. She’s been playing with the baby from the second she came in. Amy adores babies. There’s something about them that captivates her. And those little humans always seem to love her.

“We have something important to discuss,” Alex announces while accepting a dish of impeccable vegetables from Julia.

She readjust the glasses on her nose. Still weird wearing them.

“Why are you always wearing red when we have something important to discuss?” Amy suddenly interrupts her, looking down at her outfit.

“Because it’s proven to increase the heartbeat,” her wife explains.

It are Rick’s words. The exact same words he once told her when she wanted to go home one day and knock on Amy’s door to explain everything. That was back in 2014. But she wasn’t allowed by Dr. De Weerdt to travel outside of Europe for a while. And Rick needed her at a meeting in Paris the next day. He told her to wear something red. When she asked why, that was his answer. Alex called David an hour after his words had engraved themselves in her mind. But right before she was about to admit her plan to return home and beg Amy to take her back, he nervously informed her that she had met someone. And that it was serious. Christopher. She hung up the phone and cried for six hours. The next day, she attended the meeting. She wore red.

“What do we have to talk about?” Eli wonders, while putting some potatoes on Jessy’s plate.

The beautiful brunette thanks him and checks little Macy. She’s not in desperate need of motherly love, though. Amy is clearly in love with the little bundle of baby fat and keeps her entertained on her lap.

“We have to talk about … my funeral and stuff,” Alex silently utters.

It’s enough for every single person in this room to feel uncomfortable. Amy’s eyes flare up to her and she feels her heart breaking right that second.

“What?” the blonde stutters.

Her breathing enhances. She’s not ready for all of this yet. There’s no way they are supposed to talk about gruesome events like that. Alex keeps focussed on her and strokes her right hand. That’s when Eli gets up to take baby Macy away from her. Suddenly, all the baby joy has disappeared. The six adults just sit there and remain quiet. Reality has slapped them in the face. And neither one of them likes it.


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