“We can stay like this a little longer.” Solo kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got time.”
“Time,” Janie said, enunciating the word like it was foreign. “When did we last have time? Just the two of us, with no rushing and no obligations?”
“Too long,” Solo murmured, pulling Janie on top of her. “Way too long.”
They drifted in that half-asleep state that came after great sex. Janie’s body cooled against Solo’s skin, her heartbeat slowed, and the comfortable weight of Janie on her body grounded her in the moment.
“I’m scared I’m going to wake up tomorrow and that voice will be back,” Janie said into the darkness of the room. “It’ll tell me I made a mistake, and that I’m selfish for choosing my own happiness over maintaining a relationship with her.”
“And what if it does?” Solo asked gently.
Janie lay her head on Solo’s chest and sighed deeply. “Then what do I do?”
“Then you tell me.” She traced her finger along Janie’s nose and gently tapped it. “And we deal with it together. We talk about it, we call Rae, and we remind you that the voice is lying. You don’t have to fight it alone anymore. That’s what I’m here for.”
Janie was quiet for a long moment, and Solo thought she might have fallen asleep. She continued to tangle her fingers through Janie’s long, silky hair, almost tickling herself, and waited.
“I’m not good at asking for help,” Janie said finally. “Admitting when I’m struggling is…so alien.”
“I know.” Solo wrapped her arms around Janie and squeezed. “But you’re getting better at it. Lately, you’ve been telling me when you’re having bad days. You’ve been honest about the depression and your fears. That’s huge progress.”
Janie huffed quietly. “It still feels like weakness.”
“It’s not weakness. Talking about something this hard takes strength.” Solo pulled another pillow beneath her head so she could look at Janie’s face properly. “You know what weakness looks like? It looks like my mom refusing to admit she had breast cancer until it was too late to treat effectively. It looks like me trying to handle triplets, a business, and a failing marriage all by myself instead of asking for help. Weakness is pretending you’re fine when you’re not. Strength is saying ‘I’m struggling and I need support.’“
Janie’s eyes filled with tears again. “How do you always knowthe right thing to say?”
Solo laughed, remembering her desire to have Gabe in her ear not so long ago when Janie was packing to leave. “I really don’t. I fuck up all the time, but the therapy is helping me so much. I’m trying, same as you.” She brushed away a tear that had escaped down Janie’s cheek. “We’re both trying. That’s what matters.”
“Promise me something,” Janie said.
“Anything.”
“Promise me we’ll never stop talking to each other. Even when it’s hard and we’re scared of each other’s reaction.” Janie trailed her finger along Solo’s collarbone. “Promise me we’ll keep showing up and keep fighting for this.” She tapped Solo’s heart.
“I promise.” Solo kissed her softly. “I promise to always talk to you and be honest about what I’m feeling and what I need. I’m never going to let work, or the kids, or anything else make you invisible again.” She clasped Janie’s hand to her chest. “I promise with all my heart to see you,reallysee you, every single day.”
“I promise too,” Janie said. “I promise to tell you when I’m struggling instead of hiding it. I’ll ask for help instead of trying to be perfect. And I’ll keep trying to trust that you love me even on the days when I really don’t know why you would.”
They sealed the promises with a kiss, slow and deep, full of everything they’d survived and everything they were building.
Outside, the sun was setting, painting their room in shades of gold and amber. Soon, her dad and Carmen would bring the girls home, and the house would fill with toddler noise, dinner preparations, and bedtime routines. But for now, it was just the two of them, the core of their family, in this beautiful moment, choosing each other again.
“I don’t regret what I did today,” Janie whispered, her lips caressing Solo’s skin. “Is that terrible?”
“No. You did what was healthy for you. And for us and the triplets.”
“I think...I think I’ve been wishing for a different mother all these years instead of accepting the mother I actually had. Today, I finally stopped wishing for something that was never going to happen.”
Solo nodded. “That took courage, babe.”
“Or maybe just exhaustion.” Janie laughed softly. “I got too tired trying to earn love from someone who’s incapable of giving it freely.”
“Now you can use that energy for the people whodolove you like that. For our daughters and me.” She kissed Janie again. “But especially for yourself.”
“For myself.” Janie nodded. “That’s the hardest one.”
“I know, but you’ll get there. We’ll get there together.” Solo’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, but she ignored it. Right now, nothing was more important than holding her wife and reaffirming their promises to build the foundation they needed for whatever came next.
