Acrophobia

2019

---

“You know I have a vault in the apartment, right?” Alex asks her wife.

Amy nods. It’s behind a painting in the living room. The Latina thought that was really badass. When Amy told her it was in fact nerdy, she begged her to never tell anyone, claiming it was her ‘nerdy little secret’. Amy smirked, because she had a few of those.

“I keep all of my important stuff in there. Bank accounts, my property certificates, our wedding license, contracts, …” Alex explains.

Amy’s still not up for this conversation. Just a few minutes ago, they were discussing a funeral. What flowers to pick, what color of coffin it should be, which songs they’ll play. She’s all upset about the subjects floating from mouth to mouth this evening. In fact: she’s nauseous. 

“Amy, listen to me.”

Alex grabs her hand in order to regain her attention. She knows this is hard. It’s hard for her as well, but these are things that matter.

“You’ve seen the code, didn’t you? Last time when I took something out of it.”

Amy hides herself in mystery and shrugs in an innocent way: “Maybe.”

Her wife knows exactly what that means.

“Good,” she claims. “You might need it one day.”

She’s being awfully realistic about it all. Amy comforts herself with the idea that ‘one day’ might actually take place in fifty years. That’s all she’s hoping for.

“Then it’s good that the combination is my birthday,” she faintly smiles while whispering.

Alex finally feels relaxed after hearing the witty comment. But there’s a nagging feeling in her stomach. Something that tells her that ‘one day’ isn’t so far away anymore. That’s why this needs to be made clear in advance, now that she still can.

“I talked about a lot of things with my dad already,” Alex resumes, while checking all the expressions around the table.

Everyone remains suspiciously quiet, as if they are scared to say something wrong. Even baby Macy has dozed off to sleep. Amy squeezes the fragile hand she’s holding onto. The idea of losing Alex is always there, just not as present as tonight.

“He knows that I want you to have the apartment. And all my personal stuff.”

It takes one second to sink in and the next, Amy starts shaking her head: “I don’t – You don’t have to do that, Alex. Your family is entitled to -”

Alex interrupts her by grabbing her shoulders firmly. She looks into her eyes with a fierceness that was there a lot before. Amy can’t help but noticing how beautiful she looks with those black glasses.

“I want to know for sure that you’ll be okay, Amy. I can’t stand the thought of you having to move out of our little nest. Or someone else packing my stuff when you’re not ready for it.”

“That’s why you’re giving me an entire apartment?” Amy scoffs.

The thing is, ever since they got married, Alex considered everything she ever owned to belong to Amy as well. If she owned her heart, then what were a few bricks? That’s what marriage is for, right? To share everything. It’s no secret that the model has earned a lot more money in comparison to the rising editor. Not that it matters. It never did. Facts are facts. It’s not like Alex was ever reluctant of taking a luxury Mexican vacation, just because Amy couldn’t pay her part with the same ease. Fuck no, she booked the holiday and then informed her wife they were going away. She married her out of love, not to hide her money or wishes. How could she enjoy life without Amy by her side?

“I don’t want this gift,” Amy tells her. “You dad shouldn’t have agreed.”

Clearly, she feels uncomfortable. But Alex reminds her of the gold digger situation from a few years ago. Amy was the wealthy one when they started dating. It never changed anything between them. Alex cups the cheeks of her beloved wife and allows her eyes to weep.

“All I’m worried about is that you’ll be fine when I’m gone. It’s not a gift to you, Amy. It’s my dad’s final gift to me. So I can stop worrying.”

Amy rises from her chair so fast that it shakes up everyone peaceful state of mind. She makes a run for the kitchen and holds onto the counter to make sure she won’t pass out. Eli walks in to comfort her, but she refuses an embrace. It’ll only make her cry. And she can’t cry.

“I used to tell her the story about us getting old together all the time,” she tells him.

He’s standing next to her and quietly awaits the rest. His eyes express compassion.

“Like, we will be ninety years old, sitting next to each other in a wheelchair. She’ll be barking at the nurses about her meds and I’ll try to calm her down. And no matter when or where, we’ll hold each other’s hand, because no matter how old, grey and possibly even senile both of us end up, we’ll know how much we love each other.”

She softly smiles and remembers all the times they talked about it. Sometimes it was to ridicule their old selves. Lately, it’s more serious – a desire, a wish.

“Afterward, Alex would always laugh at me and say: ‘Well, that won’t be sexy at all.’ And my response would be: ‘Maybe not, but it’ll be magical.’ I adore that story, that vision of us together.”

Eli nods, because he understands where this is going.

“And now you’re thinking about how you might not get that happily ever after?”

Amy hates herself for even thinking about it. But after all this talk and Alex getting sicker and sicker, it’s inevitable.

“Yes,” she admits. “I told her that the other day. I said we probably won’t get to the magical part.”

Her good friend swallows down a lost tear and loudly sniffs. He needs to be strong to get through this. For Amy.

“What did she respond?” he asks with a shaky voice.

She looks up to him with watering eyes and a face sadder than ever. She could cry a thousand tears right now and it still wouldn’t be the end of it.

“At least it will be sexy.”

Back in the other room, Julia, Jessy and David keep their attention on an emotional Alex. She’s sad that her wife feels so overwhelmed, but at the same time she’s relieved – simply because things are clear now. And everyone knows about her wishes.

“You know what sucks the most?” she asks nobody in particular. “I missed four years of us together so I could protect her and now it’s back. All for nothing. I could have had her all along.”

She stares into the distance and heaves a frustrated sigh. She has come to terms with the possibility that her life might not last until she ends up in a wheelchair. Leaving Amy behind, on the other hand, still scares her to death.

“Yes,” David confirms, “she missed you terribly. And yes, she hated you for a while. But while you were gone she got what you wanted for her. And she built a remarkable career. She found amazing friends. All those things, they are going to get her through the grief when you’re gone. She has worked on her future while you worked on your health. It wasn’t for nothing, Alex. It all had a reason.”

“Did it?” Alex questions his explanation.

Deep down she knows he’s right. But that doesn’t make it fair. She looks over to Julia and fakes a smile. The two models share a moment. Out of all her famous friends, this one has had the most impact on her life. She’s even part of the family now that she’s dating David.

“You’ve always been good for me, Alex. In your own special, brutal way,” she smirks.

It pains her that she might have to let go of her precious guardian angel soon. Alex disagrees, though. Her illness has changed her for the better. She appreciates life a lot more lately. Sadly, it took some horrible fights with Amy and the rest of her family until she figured that out.

“I’m not a good person. Never really was. I always got what I wanted because I hardly ever cared about what it would do to the people around me.”

“That’s determination,” David specifies. “That’s ambition.”

“That’s bullshit,” Alex corrects him with a smile.

She’s making amends for her bad behavior in the past. Aby is a nice word for it.

“I used to be vindictive,” she explains. “But now I’m just supporting karma in a persistent and devoted way.”

The company starts to smile. None of them agrees, but they remain quiet.

“You’re not a terrible person, Alex,” Julia suddenly decides to stand up for her own good. “You put a blanket on the dog when she’s asleep just in case she’d be cold.”

It’s true. She does that.

“Well, you never know,” Alex defends her motives.

She turns her head to search for Amy. Around the corner, shadows are moving. When Eli resurfaces, she asks him where her wife is. He informs her that Amy’s searching for some tissues in the storage closet, since the ones on the counter were gone.

Amy does walk into the closet and closes the door behind her. She realizes how her entire body is trembling and she can’t calm herself down. Then, she starts crying. Uncontrollably.

She forgot what it feels like to really cry. How it feels like when your heart is about to rip itself to make the pain go away. The last time she felt like this was when Alex walked out all those years ago. It made her eyes bleed and her heart ache. She couldn’t stop herself for days, for weeks. It was the indescribable feeling of not being in control of yourself.

Her feet can’t hold the weight of her suffering anymore and she softly collapses on the floor. Fear has a way of sneaking up on you. It can come at any given second, without a reason or announcement. Living a life without her one true love just doesn’t seem right. Seeing her suffering like this is just brutal. And at same time, Amy’s trying to keep a tough act going. For Alex. Because of Alex. But at times like these she can’t even open her eyes. Getting out of bed in the morning is horrible. The angsty feelings are there all day long. They won’t go away.

Tears are streaming down her face uncontrollably, but she’s cupping her mouth to silence the agonizing sounds that come from deep inside her shaking body.

It takes her three minutes to get it all out, to let the tears have their therapeutic way of expelling the tremendous fear that has creeped up on her. Amy uses both hands to wipe her cheeks clean and gets up on her feet again. One deep breath. Two deep breaths. She lays a hand on her heart and closes both eyes for a second. She’s good.

---

Amy and Alex wake up like an ordinary couple the next day. They make coffee, fix breakfast and get dressed. In between sweet hugs and loving kisses, the girls end up on the couch. Yesterday was exhausting for Alex. She squinted her eyes all the way home in the car and refused to put on her glasses. Pride has a lot to do with it. After the impressive talk and emotional aftermath, the group gathered enough strength to continue being awesome all evening. They played silly games and made stupid jokes. Amy put Macy to sleep together with Jessy and it warmed her heart to see the little baby dream so innocently. But it asked a lot from Alex, who put up her best show to remain present and strong.

As the model is going through some posts on social media of people supporting her throughout her battle, she smiles contently. There’s no arguing: she has the best fans in the world.

“Just a few more days,” Amy whispers. “And we have to go to the doctor.”

Alex nods in her embrace and yawns. She just woke up from a nap and is feeling tired already. The pills she’s taking have that effect on her.

“I did something,” she suddenly admits.

Amy sits up straight and frowns in a suspicious way: “What is it?”

Her wife, totally upgraded with wig and glasses, stretches her back and sparks a mischievous smile. Oh, Amy remembers that one.

“You know what I miss? What I really, really, really miss?”

The blonde looks at her and detects fire in the brown eyes that hasn’t been there in a while. She nods: “Modeling.”

“I miss modeling,” Alex confirms her suspicion. “I ache for it. To be in front of that lens again. For the photographer to call my name and to get up on my feet and leave the makeup chair. Those first first steps on set. The look on the assistants’ eyes when they see the picture coming together. It’s magical. It’s the best feeling in the world. Because right in that second, everyone adores you. Everyone is there because of you. It all feels so right.”

Amy understands what she’s implying and ignores the self-idolizing: “You organized a shoot?”

“Rick did. And I wanted to ask you if you wanted to join me.”

Amy shrugs: “Sure, I’ll take you there.”

“No,” Alex clarifies with a soft smile. “In front of the camera.”

The expression of the person staring at her dramatically changes. She has always refused to do that. See, Amy’s the ‘behind the camera’ girl. Anything in front scares her. But Alex begs. She absolutely begs her to do this for her.

“Please. You’ll look beautiful. All I want is some pictures to hang up around the house. Over our bed or in the living room. The last profession pictures of us are from our wedding.”

Amy acts all offended: “And they are absolutely beautiful.”

She notices how Alex casually bends forward: “They are gorgeous.”

Amy uses her charms to get excused: “You’re gorgeous.”

The Latina smiles an evil smile and pushes her glasses up her nose a bit: “You’re just scared that you’re going to love it.”

Playful as their nature is, Amy bends over and nods in an amused way: “I might completely put you in the shadows. That can’t happen, right?”

The Latina remains quiet for a while and realizes what her wife just said. That’s an Amy-yes.

---

Rick Spencer is God. He has taken over every activity Alex ever took upon her. Right now, he’s overviewing the fashion designing, managing the model agency and running the marketing of his company. When Alex called him to ask for a favor, he cleared his entire schedule like it was nothing, though. Because for Alex, he’d do anything.

“I can’t believe this man. He’s so busy, so successful. And just because you blink your eyes in a cute way, he randomly organizes a photoshoot for you.”

Alex crosses her arms and leans back in her makeup chair.

“I know, it’s disgusting,” she ridicules the words.

Amy throws her a shady look, but gets instructed to stay still by the person applying tons of makeup to her face. She apologizes and her more experienced wife observes her from the corner of her eyes.

“Will he be here?” Amy then asks, while forcefully keeping her mouth from moving.

“I don’t know. Maybe. He’s somewhere in town, but there were some meetings and he needs to hire a new assistant to help with the launch of the spring collection,” Alex explains.

“He’s amazing,” Amy utters, while admiring him even more on the inside. “Like, he just flies from town to town, making decisions, orchestrating fashion shoots, managing his business.”

Alex squeezes her eyes a bit closer and growls: “I’m so jealous.”

There used to be a time when she couldn’t stop from doing something productive. She’d run from meeting to meeting, from casting to casting and sleep whenever there were five minutes left. All because she wanted to be remembered as a hardworking, achieving and amazing artist. She had to prove to herself that this was actually the thing she had imagined and the thing she had promised her father all those years ago: to knock all the competition out of the park. Now all she does is stay at home and hope she won’t be tired when she gets from the couch to the fridge and back. Some days are easier. Some days she feels amazing for no apparent reason. But they never really turn back to the old ones, where she ran across town at maximum speed, trying to exceed her own possibilities.

A while later, the makeup artists are ready. The girls get up on their feet and Alex tells her wife just how beautiful she is. It makes Amy blush.

When they arrive at the roof top, where the shoot is taking place, Alex immediately notices the proximity of the cameras and lightening equipment to the edge of the roof. She grabs the sleeve of  an assistant to object, just as Rick suddenly appears. She runs over to him to express the repulsion for the idea. The place is crowded with people she’s worked with before who all end up staring at her. The photographer is actually one of her favorites: Taygon Wears.

“I’m sorry, but I’m really not getting up there,” Alex stresses while keeping a safe distance from the edge of the roof.

Acrophobia. Fear of heights. She’s got that bad, but only when it involves standing close to the edge of things. Rick knows his pupil more than anything and doesn’t even say a word to her before immediately addressing the photographer about it.

All around her are hardworking professionals and aspiring coworkers, set and ready to start this photoshoot. Except Alex. She’s anxiously grasping onto Amy, who’s trying to calm her down.

“Didn’t you do one of those roof top shoots years ago? I saw the pictures,” Amy recalls.

It was when they were apart and the blonde never really understand who put her up to it.

Alex hisses at her: “They were photoshopped.”

Rolling blue eyes are happening in front of her.

“Can we just continue so that I can get out of this ridiculous outfit?” Amy sighs.

She’s totally over it, and it hasn’t even started yet. Alex disagrees about the ridiculous part, though. Her wife looks stunning in that beautiful, expensive red dress. For real, she has never looked prettier. It accentuates all the parts she loves about Amy. Her hair hangs loosely down her shoulders, slightly curling. In fact, it exhales pure class. Amy seems to have run away from a movie premiere with her outfit. It matches Alex’s black cocktail dress perfectly. Her own wig is styled to perfection. There’s no way on earth she’ll take that off today.

The coworkers rearrange the entire setting until Alex feels confident enough to walk closer toward the edge. Amy’s holding her hand – that helps. She forgets for a second just how nervous Amy is about her photoshoot debut. But as soon as the people in charge start directing her to strike certain poses, she notices that her wife is struggling. A reassuring hand picks up on the nervous trembling in Amy’s skin. When their eyes meet, Amy starts to warm up to the idea of posing together with her wife. The Latina isn’t just looking at her, no, she’s trespassing her mind and soul. Like she’s witnessing a miracle. Like Amy’s perfection and she just can’t stop admiring her. The intensity of her loving glare still makes Amy uncomfortable from time to time. Even after a lifetime together.

“I can’t stand it when you look at me that way,” she admits while flushing.

Alex kisses the side of her lips and, immediately, the makeup artists start protesting. The girls apologize, but giggle in secret. Rick mouths that they should stop it. Ruining their makeup might take a long while to fix. Luckily for him, he’s one of the few people Alex listens to.

“Let’s get started,” the photographer announces.

The girls are ordered to stroll up and down the area around the posh antique bed in the middle of the roof and act casual – just as an introduction. Amy can’t stop herself from wondering how a bed is supposed to end up on a rooftop in the first place. In the background, voices reverberate. And that’s nothing compared to the deafening clicking noises of the camera.

It’s not really going very well and they all notice. She’s too tensed too concerned about the people around her and occupied by what they might think. Alex tells her to relax, but it’s easier said than done.

“Think of it as if you’re dancing across the ocean floor,” Taygon suddenly suggests.

He demonstrates a short, slow walking style and both Alex and Amy giggle over it.

“We can’t do that,” Alex figures.

Taygon frowns and lowers his impressive camera: “Why not?”

“I’d be worried about my hair,” she explains with half a smile.

Everyone starts laughing and Amy discovers the simplicity of it all. They are all people. They are just the same – working the job and living the life. She’s not a fragile being in this situation. She’s the object, the thing they came out of bed for this morning. The sooner they’ll finish, the sooner all of these people can go home.

Rick walks over to the corner of the bed and growls over Alex’s notorious behavior.

“I forgot how impossible you are on set,” he tells her.

Taygon, clearly enjoying this too much, addresses Amy: “Is she like this at home as well?”

The blonde wraps her arm around her beloved lady and shrugs: “Even worse.”

Suddenly, Rick pulls out his smartphone and puts on some modern music. He lays the device on a nearby lightening box and awaits the girls’ response. This always always helped whenever Alex felt nervous. Her first photoshoot ever, the first one after her first time battling cancer, the first one after getting back together with Amy. Music has a way of opening people up. Alex grabs Amy’s hand and flashes that intoxicating glare at her again. Sometimes she forgets to breathe when she’s looking into those clear blue eyes. The girls slowly start to dance around a bit. The atmosphere changes, everything suddenly becomes funnier. Amy remains in direct contact to her experienced wife, but slowly dares to make some bold decisions about how to smile and where to look at. The photographer asks them to focus on him, then the sky, then each other. The last one is the easiest part. Alex mysteriously smiles the second their eyes meet. It’s not even scripted, it’s just a feeling that’s taking complete hold of her. When Taygon tells them to lay down on the bed, Amy playfully pushes Alex back and they fall on top of each other. The laughing is delightful to witness. Even Rick is happy to see them all playful and loving like this. It’s clear: Alex is having a good day. A great day. She’s loving the excitement and stress of her profession, now that she finally gets to recreate it. The girls get drawn into their alternate dimension and forget where they are for a while. Their hands move across each other’s skin tenderly. Rick feels a charming smile taking over his face. David once explained this to him. How the girls are able to block everyone out – without even realizing. They kiss and suddenly, the entire crew feels uplifted. Taygon’s finger quickly snaps a pic. He’s pleased: it should make a great shot.

---

Two hours have passed and the two are done playing. The sensational feeling of staring in the fantasy revival of a world-famous artist flashes through Amy’s veins and nerves like lightening. She grasps onto Alex to jolt her entire body and briefly shrieks to free herself from all the frustrating thrills that make her feel like a superhero. No wonder Alex always came home overly excited and ecstatic. No wonder she’s missing it. Rick is smiling while driving them home. Amy reminds him a lot of a younger Alex.

But after the shaking up part, Amy’s eyes wander to the open Louis Vuitton in between their seats. There’s a little teddy bear sneaking a peek from underneath a bunch of papers.

“What is that?”

Alex, wildly thrown off by the outburst of emotions exploding from her wife, follows her look and finds that pretty old, worn-off bear her mom once bought her. It’s the only present she ever got from her. The one she had packed for her stay in the hospital she would never leave again.

“That’s the one my mom bought me,” Alex starts explaining.

The second she unburies the old bear, Amy recognizes it. It normally stands in their bedroom. She heaves a content smile and licks her upper lip.

“I bring it to a lot of shoots,” Alex continues to the silenced blonde. “The important ones. It’s a bit weird, that’s why I never tell anyone.”

Rick secretly smiles. He has known for years. Of course he never told her.

“You are weird,” Amy agrees.

Alex pulls her on her lap and kisses the bare shoulder there is to caress. It’s a bit clumsy in the backseat of the car, but they manage to turn it into a giggling act.

“It’s my nerdy little secret,” Alex admits while scrunching her nose adorably. “Another one.”

She has small eyes. The photoshoot was pretty exhausting. Luckily, they’re almost home.

Ten minutes later, Rick drops them off. He tells the girls to be safe and drives off into the sunset. No paparazzi today. That’s when Alex slips her hand in Amy’s and escorts her to the elevator that’ll take them both to the apartment. She’s being overdramatic.

“What are you doing?” Amy wonders, keeping a curious eye on the spontaneous and slightly unconditional handholding.

They are always overly affectionate. But even this is not their usual way of interacting.

“Rick told us to be safe. And I feel safe when you’re close next to me,” Alex charmingly responds.

It warms the blonde’s heart. Her personal supermodel looks so stunning. So at ease after the sudden photoshoot. But nonetheless: exhausted. This takes a lot from her.

They enter the apartment they call home and separate ways. Amy gets changed, while Alex lies down on the couch. She puts a blanket on top of her pretty top and skirt outfit and quickly starts fidgeting for a minute underneath it. She actually has a laugh about it. When Amy returns and notices the weird behavior, she asks what the hell she’s doing.

“Sit down next to me,” Alex orders her, quickly stopping the movements.

Her hand pats the empty space next to her. Of course, the blonde listens obediently.

“What is it, weirdo?”

“You must really love me, right?” Alex utters, rather confident about her own words.

It doesn’t take long before Amy slowly nods and shrugs.

“We’ve been through a lot together and … most of it was your fault.”

She mischievously smiles while crawling closer to her wife. Alex decides to agree. There is a valid point in the accusation.

“But I want you to know that I’d do it all again. I’d kill someone or help you get rid of a body and still love you. That’s how much you mean to me. And I also want you to know that this was the most fun I’ve had in forever. You always make sure I have the most fun. And that’s why I love you.”

Instead of kissing the love of her life, Amy lies back and puts her feet up on Alex’s lap. She enjoys stretching out on the couch.

“You want to take a nap now? I know you’re tired,” she suggests.

But Alex feels enchanted by the words she just heard and shakes her head.

“I need to get tired a little bit more,” she suggestively answers.

Her fingers draw circles on her lover’s leg. Amy’s missing the point, though.

“You want to watch some TV? Should I put on a movie?”

“No. I mean something else,” Alex further explains.

The blonde clicks her tongue and bites her lower lip, thinking over the possibilities.

“You want me to run the bath?”

Alex rolls her eyes and wonders whether Amy’s kidding or not.

“No,” she softly growls.

Suddenly, it’s clear to her that Amy is in fact completely oblivious.

“I want to have sex with you,” the slightly annoyed Latina emphasizes. “And then I want to dance until the sun comes up.”

“Oh.”

The pair of panties Alex was wearing up until that point magically appears from underneath the blanket. That’s what the fidgeting was for. Amy’s eyes widen. And then, her cute smirk appears.

The pieces of the puzzle suddenly drop into their designated place: “Oh.”

Is Alex really not wearing anything underneath that skin-tight, pink skirt that caught her attention the second the model left the dressing room after the photoshoot? Amy slips her hand underneath the blanket and quickly confirms her suspicion. There’s an arousing heat covering her fingertips that makes her skin tingle. She grasps for a stroke of air.

This time her voice sounds a lot more sexually and that flatters Alex. “Oh.”

Perhaps Alex isn’t that tired after all. She dives in to kiss her favorite blonde and releases a frustrated breath the second she recognizes the warmth of her lips. Amy’s hand hasn’t moved. It’s still down at that naughty, aroused place between Alex’s legs. But nothing’s happening and Alex is aching for it to change. Truth is that Amy’s just too startled to think. She’s breathing in Alex’s scent, her aggressive behavior, her determination. Her other hand slips behind Alex’s neck as she bends over to top her. They are already panting and nothing has happened yet.

“Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to relocate?”

“Relocate?” Alex smirks, sort of to ridicule her choice of words.

“You know what I mean,” Amy snorts in between kisses.

She’s cupping Alex’s fabulous breasts now and heaves a content sigh. She could touch those twins all day and still be sad to let go of them in the end. Their kissing gets heated, until Alex abruptly stops. She gets up, takes her lover’s hand and leads them toward the bathroom. The blonde is calling it: shower sex. She gets crazy excited about shower sex. But Alex surprises her by stopping in front of the wall-sized mirror to strip them both down. When Amy offers to lower her own pants, Alex refuses to allow that. She needs this, this unwrapping of Amy’s divine body – like it’s a present. One exclusively reserved for her. As soon as they are both naked and all of Alex’s scars and weaknesses of all the treatments are exposed, she looks into the bluest set of eyes she’s ever witnessed. She can tell that Amy still thinks she’s beautiful.

“Kiss me,” she begs her wife with an emotional, trembling voice. “Kiss me like it’s the last time you’ll ever get the chance. Like I’m the only person left on this earth. Kiss me like you want to devour me and remember it forever.”

Amy frowns over the dramatic request and caresses Alex’s skinny face: “What is this about, sweetie?”

But Alex can’t even explain. She needs this, more than ever. She needs this, after the thrill of the photoshoot, after the excitement of the last few perfect weeks. She needs this to be real, like it has always been before. Amy gets it, without hearing a word. Her lips kiss the ones she has kissed for years. Her fingers start their journey up and down Alex’s perfect body. They knead the flesh of the Latina’s boobs and grab onto her ass tightly. Her mouth covers Alex’s until they both feel dizzy and intoxicated. Their hearts are racing with the speed of light. That’s when the girls remember just how much they love each other. How crazy they get over their sexual tension. Moaning sounds reverberate through the room, until Alex turns Amy around to face the mirror. Even though she’s smaller than her, Alex remains behind her, lurking at Amy over her shoulder. Her hand slides down the blonde’s abs, until they reach their designated point between Amy’s legs. It feels warm and her muscles are already pulsing. Two fingers force their way in between the pieces of skin until Amy heaves a loud moan, almost a shriek. When the blonde opens her eyes, she’s staring at her reflection and in the background, there’s a curious Alex observing her. Their bodies move up and down, at the pace of Alex’s directing fingers, while the Latina passionately licks the bare skin of Amy’s neck and shoulders. Her other hand is kneading the left boob that’s there to grab and the sight of that in the mirror is just too hot. It takes a lot not to collapse on the floor right now. Feet are unstable, legs are faint, bodies are too absorbed with spasms of muscles to focus on remaining straight. But luckily, there’s Alex to hold her wife into place. She’s supporting her with whatever strength she has left. After a few fascinating minutes, the blonde releases the loudest moans of all and all her muscles tense around Alex’s thrusting fingers deep inside of her. She gasps for air as the world returns to her. Her entire body radiates heat and it’s all Alex’s fault.

She turns around, shakes the memory of herself being sexually exposed in the mirror and pushes Alex down on the edge of the bath, who was still busy sucking her fingers clean with an admirable dedication. She kneels in front of her wife and before Alex can even say a word, she dives in to taste the deliciousness of the Latina’s arousal. It completely surprises the other one, that much is obvious, because a little pull back of her hips only makes Amy grasps onto the cheeks of her ass firmer. The blonde loves the flavor of her woman. It’s sticky and sweet and warm. It arouses her even more. Alex whispers her name in between heavy panting and thanks the gods for this experience. She can’t image anyone else doing this to her. Not ever. Not this way.

---

Their hands are firmly entwined while they are nervously counting the seconds that pass in the hideous, cold waiting room. It’s that day: the meeting with the hematologist – Dr. Cullers. Something feels off. Both girls have been talking about it for days now. How Alex doesn’t seem better than before. How she should, though.

“Are you okay?” Amy carefully asks.

But Alex just sighs and stares right in front of her: “I don’t know. What if I’m not?”

His face says it all, though. Dr. Cullers carries an expression that’s full of compassion and personal anger. There aren’t even many words said. The eyes do most of the talking. Amy can’t experience a single emotion as the appointment occurs. It’s like the medical terms and bad news are a horrible nightmare. Like nothing about it is real. It certainly doesn’t feel like it. She just sits there, desperately trying to remind herself she needs to breathe. The first few minutes, she even forgets to look at her wife and that causes her to feel like a terrible person once she realizes.

Spread. Cancer. Organs. Lymph system.

Alex hears it all. She recognizes the words and the angsty feelings that take complete control of her body, but at the same time, she feels numb. There’s this incredible naive hope that the file in Dr. Cullers’ hands is the wrong one. That it’s the file from the patient stepping into this office right after her. Of course, it isn’t. And as time passes, that realization comes knocking. Like a hammer. Her hand goes searching for Amy’s. Soon after it does, Dr. Cullers excuses himself to give the girls a second.

“Does this mean …” Amy’s too afraid to say it out loud and chokes up.

Her free hand grabs her throat because it actually feels soar from the rising tears she’s trying to shut out.

Alex gets up from her chair in a panic reaction and exhales so excessively it immediately dazzles her. Did Dr. Cullers just tell her she’s close to terminal? Does all of this medical talk and shit indicate that she’s dying? Is she? Should she call Dr. De Weerdt in Belgium to ask for his advice? Should she do it right now? It must be really late right now, over there. Like, four a.m. or something. Her mind is racing. It’s racing so fast that it could be someone else’s.

She recalls the conversation she just had with her hematologist. How his words weren’t as optimistic as always. How his voice was deep and apologetic.

“There’s always this stem cell transplantation, right? We didn’t do that the first time, so now you can -” she uttered just minutes ago while shutting up as soon as she started talking.

Dr. Cullers sighed and nodded. His face was so sad that she saw few options in his eyes.

“We can try that, Alex, but I’m afraid it won’t work. I’m sorry, it’s just …”

He stopped talking as well and that wasn’t enough for her. She felt angry because he had the courage to give up on her like that.

“But I want to try,” she stressed. “How can this just pop up like it’s nothing? How can these tumors just grow out of nowhere and spread?”

He puts his warm hands on hers and gently caused her to calm down. Amy was just sitting there, completely unable to process the news.

“You fought, Alex. Don’t forget that. You fought really hard,” he told her.

Alex started nodding and then courageously smiled: “And I’ll fight until I can’t anymore. We need to try.”

“Okay. It’s just that – I want you to be prepared,” Dr.Cullers explained.

She looked at him and felt the weight of the world drenching over her. It was the worst feeling she had ever experienced.

“If it doesn’t work – how long …?”

She didn’t really say it. Mostly because Amy was almost about to fall apart, but the doctor picked up on it. What if the worst was about to come?

“A year. Maybe less,” he whispered.

And now she’s here, flipping the fuck out – pacing up and down the room – while constantly reminding herself that trashing this office is a bad thing to do. She’d throw anything now.

Her eyes finally find Amy and that instantly breaks her heart. This is so unfair to her. But brave, cute Amy fights back her own fears and gets up on her feet. She walks over to Alex and swallows down the last of the fighting tears that are about to explode from inside of her. As Alex is trying to scuffle herself out of a comforting embrace that will absolutely cause her to collapse, she keeps repeating the word ‘no’. Not that it matters. All Amy wants to do is grab her and hold her until the Latina is done bawling the flood of emotions that are creeping up on her. When she finally gives in, the warmth of Amy’s hands and the familiarity of the blonde’s touch break her last resistance. Her entire body starts to shake and every breath she takes feels like it’s her last. She bends over and gasps for air, as the top of her head finds Amy’s toned stomach. The news has her crying in this position and for a split second, Amy’s glad she can’t see her face. Because she’s ought to be the strong one now. This isn’t about her. It’s purely about Alex. About her health, her cancer, her battle. She’s simply an accomplish. Nothing about this disease has anything to do with her personally. Her gentle hands find their way to the dark color of the wig. She feels the shaking movements of her wife’s head against her stomach muscles and that breaks her heart. Because nothing she can say or do will make it better.

“Can you go away now?” Alex sniffles through lost tears.

Her voice cracks. In fact, it’s the saddest thing that ever left her mouth. The combination of begging and desperation is striking.

It’s like she needs a moment of unrestricted loss of control. Just one moment when she won’t be concerned about her wife’s well-being. Where she won’t be afraid that a single tear of her will break Amy’s heart. Funny how they both care more about each other’s emotions than their own.

Even though she’s still facing the ground and experiences every single twitch in Amy’s stomach muscles, it becomes clear that the blonde’s willing to give in to her request.

“Yes, sweetie. But I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

It sounds comforting and determined. There’s no room for discussion. And that’s what Alex loves so much about her. The Latina’s head moves up and down. She’s too emotional to say ‘yes’ without crying. Amy pulls her up and fiercely kisses the side of Alex’s lips, simply to assure her of the unconditional love she has for her.

And then Amy leaves the room and Alex is left on her own. She sits down on the same seat that brought her to the bad news. It doesn’t affect her. Nothing affects her. The bad feeling she had before walking into this office is nothing compared to what she’s going through now.

A half an hour passes and the model hasn’t moved a muscle. She hasn’t cried anymore. She barely even blinked. Fear and sadness can completely numb a person. More than the worst drug.

A short knock announces Amy’s return. She walks in with eyes flaming red and cheeks swollen from crying. When she kneels in front of her wife, Alex finally looks up. It’s not the most loving exchange that ever took place, but the blonde’s compassionate expression means the world to her.

“Are you angry?” Amy asks her.

Alex nods. She has never been angrier. The sadness part has passed. Welcome to the next step of grief. In about a minute, she’s capable of smashing this entire office to pieces.

“I can’t drive anymore,” Alex starts talking.

It’s true. Her vision is blurry and her reaction skills aren’t the best anymore.

“So I can’t just burst out and disappear on you and go somewhere to get drunk and bitch to people.”

It’s a big improvement from the intentional personal attacks on Amy when she first found out the cancer was back. It’s a world apart from a time when she fled the country.

“So will you drive me?” Alex pleads. “Will you drive me to a bar where I can get monumentally fucked? Just this night?”

Amy sighs and realizes it might not be the best idea. But at the same time she can’t help but wondering: what is? Is there a good idea? Is staying at home and crying your eyes out so much better?

“Sure,” she concludes. “Will you keep being angry?”

She knows Alex’s characteristics better than her own. Anger is her second favorite emotion, after loving her. The Latina slowly starts nodding and numbly sighs.

“Yes. But not with you.”

A soft smile momentarily lights up the atmosphere. Just enough to express their undeniable devotion for each other. Of course Alex can’t be mad at her. It’s impossible.

“You’re way too pretty,” she clarifies.

Amy disagrees. Alex’s the gorgeous top model in this room.

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