Hannah brushed her thumb across Janie’s cheekbone. “You’ve always been mine. Even when we were apart, I wished to God that you were still mine, that youwantedto be mine.”
The elevator chimed their arrival at the eighth floor, and they walked down the carpeted hallway in charged silence. Janie fumbled with the key card until Hannah’s hand covered hers gently, helping guide the card against the slot until the light turned green.
The room was pretty and more than Janie needed for tonight. All she was interested in was the king-size bed with its crisp white linens and fresh new possibilities. There was a sitting area by the window overlooking the city lights, and strategically placed soft lamps cast everything in warm amber. Under other circumstances, it would’ve been nice to order something to eat and watch a movie.
But Janie’s thoughts were mostly on making use of that big bed to reclaim her wife. To reclaim herself.
She set her purse down on the small table in the center of the room, hyperaware of Hannah behind her, of the door clicking shut, of the fact that they were alone in a way they hadn’t been in months. No children who might wake up and interrupt them. No father tactfully retreating to give them space. Just them.
“Janie.” Hannah’s voice was soft. “Look at me.”
Janie turned, and the expression on Hannah’s face nearly undid her. She could see Hannah’s desire in the way her eyes had gone dark, in the tension in her shoulders. But there was also tenderness and the kind of reverence that made Janie feel simultaneously vulnerable and powerful.
Janie tried to identify the other emotions racing around her mind, vying for her attention. One of them…one of them she really didn’t want to acknowledge or give voice to. But this fresh start was about honesty, wasn’t it? And if she couldn’t be honest on their first date, would that set the tone for this new journey and doom it from the very beginning? “I’m scared,” she said after quieting her inner conflict.
“Of what?”
“I’m scared of not being enough for you anymore. That I’ve forgotten how to be with you like this. I’m frightened that you’ll touch me and realize…” Janie’s breath stuttered. “You’ll realize I’m not the woman you married, or the woman you think I am. The one you want and need me to be.”
Hannah was within touching distance in three strides. She cupped Janie’s face and lifted her chin gently, forcing Janie to meet her gaze. “You’re still the woman I married. And I love every part of you: the scared parts, the sad parts, the parts that are still figuring out how to be okay. All of it. I just need you to be you.”
“I have stretch marks now,” Janie said, the words tumbling out along with unbidden watery sorrow. This wasn’t the way this was supposed to be going. The ragged desire that had dragged Hannah to the hotel had run for cover when the tar began to advance along the horizon of her conscious mind again. “My body is different. I’m softer, and there’s this heaviness,” she pressed her hand to her chest, “here, inside me. Like I’m carrying something dark that might never go away, something that’s become part of me against my will.”
“I know.” Hannah traced the track of Janie’s tears with her thumbs. “I know you’re struggling. I know the postpartum depression isn’t just going to magically disappear because we’re working on our relationship. But Janie, you’re here. You’re fighting. You told me the truth even though you were terrified. That’s the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Janie arched her eyebrow, quite certain she didn’t believe that. Hannah had been a soldier and seen things Janie could only have nightmares about. “I don’t feel brave.”
“You don’t have to feel it for it to be true.” Hannah pressed a kiss to Janie’s forehead, achingly tender. “And as for your body,” she ran her hand down Janie’s neck slowly, “you grew three whole beautiful and amazing humans inside you. You’re agoddamn miracle.”
Fresh tears spilled over, and Hannah kissed those away too, first from one cheek, and then the other, soft and patient and so full of love that Janie’s chest hurt.
“I want this,” Janie said, clutching at Hannah’s shirt. “I want you. But I’m... I’m so scared of disappointing you.”
“You could never disappoint me.” Hannah slid her hands down to Janie’s waist and pulled her closer. “Let’s go real slow. We can stop anytime. This is about us reconnecting, not about performing or being perfect. Okay?”
Janie nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Can I kiss you?” Hannah asked.
Janie’s lips twitched at the request. After they’d gotten together, Hannah hadn’t needed to ask that question. But this was different. She was asking permission for so much more than a simple kiss. “Please,” she whispered.
Hannah kissed her slowly, like they had all the time in the world. Her lips were soft but firm, and Janie melted into the familiar sensation and the solid safety, her body remembering even if her mind was slow to accept it. Hannah’s hands stayed on Janie’s waist, not pushing, only holding, and a sharp pang of realization coursed through her. Hannah was holding back, moving gently, like Janie was a fragile, brittle vase.
Janie pulled back slightly so their lips parted. “You don’t have to be so careful with me. I’m not going to shatter.”
“I know. But I like being careful with you. I like taking my time.” Hannah traced the strap of Janie’s dress with her fingers. “I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missedyou. And I don’t want to rush a single second.”
She kissed Janie again, deeper this time. Janie released her death-grip on Hannah’s shirt and started exploring, drifting her hands up over Solo’s shoulders and into her short hair that tickled Janie’s fingertips, relearning the shape and the feel of her. Hannah moaned softly against Janie’s mouth, and the vibration of it traveled through her whole body.
Hannah moved to the tiny pearl buttons at the front of Janie’s dress. She pulled away slightly and met Janie’s gaze. Janie nodded, ignoring the voice in her mind that was telling her Hannah would soon realize this was a mistake.
Hannah undid the first button slowly and then continued downward, revealing a little more of Janie with each one, ramping up both her desireandher anxiety. Hannah pressed gentle kisses to Janie’s collarbone, the hollow of her throat, and the swell of her breast above her bra.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Hannah murmured against her skin. “So fucking beautiful.”
“I’m not?—”
“Yes, you are.” Hannah looked up at her, and the intensity in her eyes stole Janie’s breath. “You are.”
