“You willneverbe hurt in my home. You willneverbe punished. You will never kneel for me, or anyone for that matter, or apologise for wanting something. I won’t allow that to happen.”
Tears brimmed on Billie’s eyelashes.
“You’re safe here,” Debra said. “In this space and in my life. Whatever shape that life takes, it doesnotinclude control, fear, or pain.”
Billie’s eyes brightened, and then she leaned forward suddenly, her hands sliding up Debra’s shoulders as their mouths met. It wasnothinglike the kisses they’d shared before. It wasn’t careful or tentative. It was desperate, visceral, and the kind of kiss that came from finally being believed. From saying the worst of your past out loud and not being turned away.
Debra kissed her back, one hand cradling the back of Billie’s head, the other steady on her thigh. She didn’t take and she didn’t lead, she simply met Billie where she was.
Billie drew back, her breath uneven, and touched her forehead to Debra’s. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just…if everything I’ve just said means you don’t want to see where this goes, then I had to kiss you one last ti?—”
Debra cut her off gently. “You don’t need to apologise. Not for that. Not for wanting comfort. Not for wanting…me.”
Billie exhaled a shaky breath, visibly relieved as her shoulders loosened. “I should have told you from the beginning.”
“But you didn’t, and that’s entirely your own decision.”
Billie smiled weakly as she pulled Debra up off her knees and guided her to the spot next to her on the couch. “To be honest, there hasn’t been anyone since her where I felt as though it was time to share my past. You’re the first woman I’ve been interested in since the day I walked out.”
“What…happened to her?” Debra swallowed, mindful of not continuing this conversation for much longer. She didn’t want Billie to have to remember. She wanted Billie to just be, to exist in this space with her…calmly.
“I don’t know. Her place was up for sale a few weeks after I’d left.” Billie relaxed back onto the couch and drew Debra into the side of her. She placed a kiss to Debra’s temple and sighed. “The last I heard, she was doing a lot of moving around. She started seeing escorts instead, and I believe she met a girl in Liverpool, but I don’t know anything beyond that.”
“Moving around?”
“She’s in interior design. All the top architects used to hire her. They probably still do. People like Janet always land on their feet.”
“I have friends in architecture. What’s her surname?”
Billie side-eyed Debra. “Mason.”
“Perhaps I’ll have one of them do some digging to see where she is and what she’s doing now.” Debra wouldn’t go ahead with that unless Billie gave her the okay. It didn’t matter if she desperately hoped Janet had got her comeuppance; it was Billie’s decision alone. “If that’s something you’d be okay with me doing?”
“I don’t want any contact with her. So long as checking her out won’t result in that, I don’t care what you do.” Billie turned on the couch and leaned in, kissing Debra again. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I’d rather focus on the present.”
Debra lifted a hand and touched it to Billie’s cheek. “Me too.”
Billie had never feltlike this before. Not the rush of adrenaline she used to mistake for excitement, not the brittle relief that followed surviving something awful, and not even the controlled calm she’d worn like armour for years. This was different. This was…lightness—the strange, buoyant sense that her body no longer needed to brace for impact.
Debra was curled against her side on the couch, one leg tucked loosely over Billie’s thigh as the television rambled on in the background. Billie couldn’t say what they were watching. It was the kind of programme that didn’t demand attention, thankfully. Billie’s was solely on Debra Allen and the fact that her head was resting on Billie’s shoulder. There was no tension or expectation. There was nothing waiting to cut her open if she made one wrong move.
Billie tipped her head back against the cushion, her eyes half-lidded. She could feel the rise and fall of Debra’s chest, the rhythm of it grounding her in a way she hadn’t realised she’d been craving. Every now and then, Debra’s fingers shifted absently against Billie’s forearm, a small, thoughtless touch that made Billie light up in the best possible way.
Nothing feels daunting here. Not with her.
She waited for the familiar twist of anxiety to follow that thought, the ‘this won’t last,don’t get used to it’, but it never came. Instead, Billie felt borderline high. As though something inside of her had finally been put down after being carried for too long.
Debra shifted, murmuring something under her breath, and Billie’s smile widened. The sound vibrated against her collarbone, domestic andabsurdlyprecious.
This is actually real.I’m here. I didn’t break anything.
That realisation had emotion welling in her throat. She swallowed it back and hesitated on her next thought. Asking for things still felt like stepping onto thin ice, but Debra had been clear. Over and over again. Wantingwasallowed.
“Debra?”
“Mm?” Debra didn’t lift her head. She just pressed closer, as though the sound of Billie’s voice was something she wanted more of.
Billie’s heart fluttered when she nuzzled closer again. “Would it be okay if I stayed over tonight?”
