Page 150

On Love, Sapphic.

Willow chirped from the armchair, then hopped down and wound around Ali’s ankles, tail flicking. Ali widened her stance and held out her hands. Willow circled her, trotting between them, looking up with bright green eyes and an impatient trill.

Ali lifted her a mere two inches off the floor swinging her forward and back before giving her a gentle little toss. Willow meowed before trotting right back in between her legs. A little game they played ever since Willow was a teenager, though Ali was gentler with the ole girl these days.

Straightening back up, she sighed, not at all sure what else to do with herself now that the painting was finished. She checked her phone, hoping for something from Charlotte… no new messages, no missed calls… nothing.

By Wednesday, Ali decided to accept the residency. Wren had been ecstatic. Natasha was relentlessly practical, citing the doors it might open. Leah Coleman was outright insistent. But none of them were who she wanted to talk to.

But Charlotte felt farther away than ever. In the silence, old anxieties crept in, planting little seeds of doubt. Despite everything they shared, the nagging little voice needled, long distance would be too much pressure too soon…

She worried on her lower lip, fingers drifting to her necklace as she stared at the screen, rereading their stilted attempts at conversation. While she decided to go, it didn’t feel like the kind of news to share over text.

So she told herself Charlotte was busy, moving heaven and earth to support Lilah. To keep her mind from dragging her down the lonely hallway, right into the dark locked room, she stayed busy. Painting. Packing. Loading bins into her new storage unit.

But distraction only worked for so long.

Eventually she found herself sitting on the couch, thumbs hovering over her phone, typing… deleting… typing again.

My Moon

Today 1:36PM

Still available to be my plus one for my show this evening?

Of course! I’ll pick you up at 5:30.

The tightness in her chest didn’t ease.

The apartment went from quiet to chaotic in a matter of moments as Wren, Natasha, and Lilah waltzed through the front door. Lilah carried a basket full of goodies. Natasha looked like she’d come straight from a courtroom. Wren wheeled in a dolly, wearing work boots, and worn faded blue jeans.

Ali took the basket from Lilah and retreated to the kitchen.

The truth was, Ali was never good at goodbyes.

In the past, she resorted to more of an Irish goodbye. Just packed up and left without much ceremony. Rarely saying goodbye at all. Farewells were—in all honesty—the bane of her existence. She hated them. Each one a reminder of who and what was lost over the course of her life.

Vanishing into the night was a much easier option.

While she was grateful for the help, delivering her paintings and moving the rest of the boxes and her furniture to storage, a nagging voice in her mind insisted Charlotte’s distance meant something… What was left for her here without Charlotte?

“What’s wrong?” Wren’s voice chirped from where she peeked around the doorframe.

“Nothing…” Ali denied, sorting through the candies in the basket.

“You’re not foolin’ me, sister,” Wren drawled, sidling up to lean against the counter. “What’s got you lookin’ so blue?”

“I just… Charlotte and I agreed we’d talk about us when we got back from the wedding,” Ali sighed, shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. “About making this a real relationship.”

A small, scandalized squeak came from the doorway.

Natasha and Lilah stood, both frozen. Lilah’s mouth hung open. Natasha glanced at her and matched her shocked expression.

“What do you mean, real, relationship?” Lilah demanded, hazel irises widening until there was far too much white showing.

Ali looked helplessly at Wren who looked back at her, lips pulled back into a grimace.

Natasha, meanwhile, dropped her shocked expression and took a sip of her coffee, entirely unbothered.