Debra glanced down, a brow raised as she gave Billie a questioning look. “Oh, you’re marking me now?”
“All mine.”
Debra grinned as she stepped back and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Obviously.”
“You know what…I think I’m done for the day.” Billie reached out for the paint tray. The sooner she’d cleared up, the sooner they could get comfy. “I’ll get this cleaned up, and then maybe we could order in?”
“Perfect. I’ll give you a hand.”
Billie stopped in the middle of the living room and glanced around again. At the warmth in here now, and the light bouncing off the much brighter walls. She could have lost all of this, or the opportunity to see where it went, anyway. She could have been coming home here for the last year, as miserable as ever before, purely for having experienced Debra, only to walk away. But she’d done what she always should have done. She’d been brave, and she’d put herself first for a change.
And now, this wasn’t a space built to survive in anymore. It was a space she ached to come home to each evening, and a space filled with love and hope for a beautiful future. It was trulyhersfor the first time in her life.
Billie…was staying. No matter what.
Debra thankedthe delivery driver as she took the paper bags in her arms and nudged the door shut with her foot. She didn’t often enjoy the smell of fresh paint over dinner, but today marked a huge occasion in Debra’s mind. Billie had let go of the last of who she used to be by giving the living room a makeover that only made Debra swoon all over again for her tall, dark, and handsome butch. God, she’d never been so in love as she felt today.
“Billie, dinner has arrived!” Debra peered inside one of the bags, eyeing up her curry, and moved into the kitchen. “Billie?”
Nothing.
She turned around. Billie was standing in the middle of the living room watching her, frozen in place. She wasn’t pacing, she wasn’t even smiling, she was just…there. As still as anything.
Debra studied her, barefoot and not out of her paint clothes yet, unable to decipher the look her girlfriend was wearing. Italmosttipped into that look Debra had only seen on a handful of occasions. The one that meant Billie was carrying something she didn’t quite know how to explain or put down.
“Hey.” Her stomach roiled when a million different thoughts started running through her mind. Was Billie regressing? Had Debra said something to take her back to the darkest moments of her life? She scanned her own memory, but nothing caught her attention. She’d merely gotten up from the couch, collected dinner, and closed the door. “What’s going on?”
Billie crossed the room and eyed the bags still in Debra’s arms. “Could I, uh…could I take those for a moment?”
Debra nodded slowly and held them out. “I…yes. Of course.”
As Billie took them from her, Debra felt the tremor in her hands. Then she caught the way her fingers curled around the bags, her knuckles almost white.
“Billie…” Debra began. “If today has been too much for you…”
“I’ve been thinking.” Billie blew out a breath and turned back to Debra once the bags were safely on the counter. Debra noted her glassy eyes, noticed that Billie’s gaze kept shifting but never quite landed on her, and then… “I know that’s never a great way to start a conversation, but whatever.”
Debra’s heart started to pound, but she wouldn’t dream of showing it. “R-right, okay.”
Billie swallowed as she cast her gaze to the floor. When she eventually found the courage to look Debra in the eye again, her stare was intense and unwavering. “I’ve spent years of my life believing that I couldn’t have any of this.” She gestured around them and shook her head. “For so long, I thought love was something you had to learn to survive. When I wasn’t thinking that, I believed it was something you had to earn…or endure.”
Debra’s throat constricted painfully. She wanted to move closer, to take Billie in her arms, but she wouldn’t. Billie needed to say this, and Debra wouldn’t do anything to stop that from happening.
“And then you happened.” Billie smiled. “You didn’t want me to be smaller, you didn’t want to control me, and you’ve never once asked me to kneel or apologise. But most of all, you’ve never once hurt me for loving you.” Billie’s voice wavered, but she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “You just wantedme. All of me. The good and the bad.”
Debra took a step forward, but Billie lifted a hand. Not to stop her, but to ask for a moment longer.
“I know this isn’t how people expect things to happen, and I know I don’t have a perfect history or a tidy backstory or a version of myself that doesn’t still ache sometimes.” Billie reached out and took Debra’s hands. “But what I do know is that I’ve never felt this safe. Or this happy. Or so fucking sure of anything in my life.”
Billie lowered herself to one knee, and Debra immediately froze. Of all the scenarios she was working through in her mind, this hadn’t made the list at all. It hadn’t even entered her headspace as a fleeting thought.
Billie reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small box.
“I don’t want to think about ever having to survive again,” Billie said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want to live. Withyou. I want arguments about paint colours, I want takeaway nights like this, and I want your kids to laugh at us for being embarrassing. I want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life and always choose you, and I want you to always choose me…not because you have to, but because youwantto.”
Debra’s vision blurred as she stared down at Billie.
God, this is happening. It’s really happening.
