Those Who Wait

by Haley Cass

  It was so heady she felt a little lightheaded as she pulled back.

  She didn’t open her eyes right away, instead she kept them resolutely closed to take in everything that had happened. They only opened when Charlotte’s hands fell to her hips and gently started swaying along with the fall of music that came from inside.

  She moved with her easily for a few moments, before she couldn’t help but ask, “What would you have done? If I said it was too late?”

  A few seconds beat by before Charlotte hummed against her ear. “I would have left. For now. But I am remarkably dedicated to achieving my goals, you know, and I plan for the long haul.”

  “So I would have been a goal, then? You’d have waited for me?” She let out a disbelieving laugh, and she didn’t think she should be as utterly charmed by that as she was, but, here they were.

  “Darling,” Charlotte pulled back, a slow smile spreading over her face. “Haven’t you ever heard that good things come to those who wait?”

  Epilogue

  Sutton wanted to marry Charlotte Thompson. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment in the four years that they’d been together that this truth had become evident, but she didn’t have a shadow of a doubt.

  Maybe it was the night Charlotte had won her seat in the House of Representatives against Naomi Young. When their official relationship had still been fresh, Charlotte had still been anxious, but she’d nevertheless walked hand-in-hand with Sutton all night. When her victory had been announced, she’d turned to Sutton with the brightest grin on her face even before she’d sought out her grandmother or her brother or anyone else.

  Maybe it was two years ago, when she’d so casually mentioned Sutton moving in over breakfast. When the words well, after you move in had been tiredly uttered without a second thought – and then she’d given her the widest-eyed look when she’d realized what she’d said.

  Maybe it was last year, when Charlotte started making a habit of sneaking into the back of the courses Sutton had gotten a job as an English professor at Hunter College. She’d excused her sneaking in to witness Sutton teach with a sweet smile and the statement, “I just like seeing you in your element.”

  Maybe it was all of the times she’d witnessed Charlotte try to win over her mother and the fact that she never gave up. Maybe it was all of the times she’d marveled at her girlfriend’s grace under pressure in the increasingly higher stakes career she was in.

  She didn’t know when it happened – she just knew it was a fact.

  So, she’d set out to accomplish just that.

  If she was going to marry the most prepared woman in the country, who always had a plan, then she had to have a perfect plan. After all, she was dating the woman who would very well become President one day. She wanted to give her a perfect proposal story.

  In the last few months, while Charlotte had been in the tail end of campaigning for governor, Sutton was in the final stages of planning her proposal. It had seemed perfect. Like fate, almost:

  On the night where Charlotte would win the governor position, they would be in her campaign office and celebrate with everyone else.

  Then Sutton would take her back home, where she’d had Regan slip out of the celebration to go set up a garden – truly an indoor garden with Charlotte’s favorite flowers – that lead right up to the balcony.

  And on the table on the balcony, would be her favorite wine, with the open ring box.

  At precisely that moment, the moment where Charlotte would see the box, Sutton had timed it all so that Alia would have gotten the go-ahead to manually send a message directly from the SapphicSpark server – as Sutton couldn’t actually make a profile, not without stirring very unwanted and unnecessary rumors about their relationship status – asking, if the newly minted Senator wanted to take yet another leap forward, as Sutton’s wife.

  She very much wanted it to be one of the happiest nights in Charlotte’s life.

  Only . . . Charlotte hadn’t won.

  While watching it all happen on the screens set up in their office, surrounded by their friends, family, and everyone who they’d worked so hard with for months, Sutton’s beautifully perfectly planned night turned into a nightmare.

  Charlotte herself hadn’t seemed shocked. Merely disappointed, but had conceded to her opponent with a gracious phone call. She’d turned to Sutton for a comforting hug before she’d pulled back to put on a brave face to thank everyone in the campaign office for their support and hard work.

  Sutton – once the surprise wore off – realized that she hadn’t planned for that.

  A surprise proposal on the night that was very possibly one of the worst nights of her girlfriend’s career was probably a terrible, awful idea. Why the hell would Charlotte want to commemorate the night she’d lost an election for the first time?

  She’d had to frantically message Regan and Alia to tell them that the proposal was postponed and to get rid of every trace of it by the time they got home – receiving a message back from Regan that was just as frantic and panicked.

  Regan – 10:54PM

  Are you kidding me?! I just spent three

  hours setting the most romantic scene

  of my lifetime and now I have to ruin it!

  Regan – 10:55PM

  I need at least a half hour!!!!

  It seemed to definitely be the right choice when, upon arriving home an hour ago, Charlotte walked out to the doors overlooking the balcony. She’d stared out at the balcony and that’s when her composure crumbled.

  Sutton didn’t think she’d ever seen her look so forlorn and she felt helpless.

  More than helpless, she felt responsible. Anxious.

  She’d changed into pajama shorts and a tank top and was nervously waiting for Charlotte to emerge from the bathroom. Where she’d disappeared into forty-five minutes ago, closing the door behind her with a pinched look between her eyebrows that Sutton recognized as Charlotte trying to hold an expression back.

  Which meant she was hiding it from Sutton, as she was the only one in their home.

  “Fuck, this is a nightmare.” She buried her head in her hands and refused to look at her phone. At the many articles she would find that would attribute Charlotte’s loss in this election to her sexuality. To her openly gay relationship.

  She’d be an idiot to pretend that didn’t contribute to the loss, if it wasn’t the entire reason. After all, she’d only lost by less than five percent of the votes and when it came just down to her politics, Charlotte was very well-received and well-respected.

  It was one of her nightmares that their relationship would factor negatively into Charlotte’s career. It hadn’t caused any ripples for them in years, but what if after tonight . . .?

  She was relieved when Charlotte emerged from their bedroom, even if she still looked more distraught than anything. If only so she could stop spiraling down this rabbit hole of what-ifs in her mind.

  The ones that were causing her to second guess the entire idea of proposing at all.

  She appreciatively ran her eyes over Charlotte’s form. She knew her girlfriend took pride in her appearance, in being well put-together generally every time she left their home. It was true that they never knew exactly when someone would pop up to capture a picture, how far a picture would circulate. Charlotte looked so perfect, every day. With the way she styled her hair, with her skirts and dresses and blazers and tailored pants.

  But she looked just as incredible just like this. Her face scrubbed free from makeup, her hair messily thrown into a bun, wearing the silky robe she favored around the house.

  Charlotte crossed her arms in front of herself, walking back to the balcony doors and staring out of them. The frown on her face was so deep, Sutton ached with the pain she saw in her girlfriend’s expression.

  “Are you okay?” Are you okay? Was she an idiot? She grimaced at herself.

  “Mm,” Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, before she looked down.

  Pushing herself of
f of the couch, she walked to stand next to Charlotte. Staring at their reflections in the balcony doors. It was only then that she noticed the rose in Charlotte’s hand. The long-stemmed rose that had to have come from one of the arrangements she’d had Regan set up.

  Her heart hammered as she absolutely froze, eyes glued to it. Regan must have left it after leaving the apartment in such a hurry. Christ –

  “Do you want to get married?”

  Sutton gaped.

  The crinkle between Charlotte’s eyebrows was back now as she stared intently at Sutton. She lifted the flower, holding it between them. “Isn’t that where this came from? There’s a whole arrangement in the bedroom.”

  “I – I don’t mean… um. I’m – I mean.” God, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be! She was supposed to do it in a way that swept Charlotte off of her feet! “This isn’t me – proposing.”

  Charlotte’s eyes narrowed, her voice flat. “It’s not?”

  The blood rushed in her ears and she didn’t know the last time she was so nervous talking about anything with Charlotte but it hadn’t been in years. She brought her hands up, dragging them through her hair. “I . . .”

  Swallowing hard, she thought of a handful of ways to reason away the flowers. But, really, it was too late. It was already out and all she could hear was her mind yelling please! Marry me! I want to be your wife!

  “I know that the election didn’t go the way we’d planned, and I know that…” She had to bite her lip, hard, trying to quell the guilt and anxiety. “That it’s at least partially because of me – us. I know that you’re disappointed, no matter how much you insisted back at the office that you’re fine. You even managed to seem pretty normal until we got home. But as soon as we got here, I could see that you aren’t okay at all.

  “All I know for sure is that I’ll be there for every election in the future, that you aren’t alone.

  She stepped even closer to Charlotte, sliding her hand down to hold her girlfriend’s empty one. “I’ll be by your side every single day and I’ll try even harder. I’ll make everyone, the public, love me, too. You losing an election, it’ll never be because of me, again. I won’t let it.”

  It was such an odd sensation, because this wasn’t a secret; ever since truly being together, they’d never hit even a rough patch where breaking up was an option. It all felt simultaneously like none of this should be scary, because they were – them. They were Sutton and Charlotte, and she couldn’t even imagine what could possibly drive them apart, but still this seemed overwhelmingly large.

  “I never knew love was like this, until you. I didn’t know everything I wanted as a little girl with my head in the clouds was real, until you. There’s no one like you in all of the world, Charlotte Thompson, and I know that for a fact,” the conviction – the truth – in her words seemed to burn her throat. “You’re a force of nature, and who you are amazes me every day. And I just want to spend the rest of my life with you, supporting you and loving you.”

  She pressed her hand to her stomach, standing only inches from Charlotte before she slowly looked into her eyes.

  Charlotte was still so quiet, though.

  “And – and you deserve so much more than this.” She looked around them, shaking her head with a watery laugh. “Than my asking you for the biggest commitment ever, asking you to spend your life with me even though I know there’s so much on the line, still, for the future. This isn’t how I intended for this to go –”

  “I know,” Charlotte interrupted, her hand squeezing Sutton’s. “I know exactly how you intended this to go.”

  “No, you . . . you did?”

  “Darling,” her voice was so warm. “You sent the entire schematic, including a map of our apartment, to Regan, on one of the computers at the campaign office. The flower arrangements, the wine, your speech.”

  Amusement sparking in her eyes.

  Sutton wanted to slap herself. “You knew?”

  Charlotte’s trademark half-grin fell, her expression growing a bit sheepish. “I did.” Her eyes tightly closed. “I knew it was coming tonight. And it scared me,” she whispered. “The idea of marriage, scared me. I have no intentions of not being with you, but I know you’ve wanted to get married. And I’ve been putting off thinking about it. Talking about it.”

  “Oh.” In that moment, everything went numb. Her proposal scared Charlotte? “You didn’t say anything.”

  “I didn’t know what to say.” She blew out a breathless laugh before she looked down. “I didn’t know what I wanted to say so I just tried to focus on the election, and then I . . . lost. Clearly. And you’re right. Everything didn’t hit me until we got home.”

  Charlotte shook her head, her hand letting Sutton’s go to slide up and cup Sutton’s jaw. “But you’re wrong in thinking it’s about the election. I knew from the beginning that an election now was going to be improbable; I’m not even thirty-five, and no matter what my high approval is right now, I am a lesbian. In a public and deeply, passionate love affair with a beautiful woman.” Her smile was sharp and teasing. “This election was good experience and publicity. And when I run for senator in two years, I’ll be more prepared.”

  Charlotte’s eyebrows drew together in a clear sign of confusion as she slowly shook her head.

  “Of course I was disappointed with the loss, but it was palatable. I’d already accepted it, even before tonight. I – I was upset because you didn’t propose. It didn’t even hit me until we were walking through the door. That I had butterflies. That the election wasn’t the biggest thing to happen tonight.”

  Charlotte slowly dropped her hands to her sides, as her gaze searching Sutton’s in question. “But nothing was here. No flowers, no message, no ring. And I realized when I stared out at the empty balcony that I was nervous but it was because I wanted it.”

  “You wanted me to propose?” She could hear the surprise in her own voice but after hearing that the prospect apparently had scared Charlotte, she’d expected the worst.

  “I did. I do,” the disbelief in Charlotte’s own tone was clear, but her lips quirked into a smile before she laughed. She dragged her hands through her hair. “You push me, Sutton, in ways that no one else ever could. You push my boundaries in all of your beautiful, gentle ways without even trying to, and my ideas of what I thought I wanted, and I . . .”

  She broke off, pausing even as her words were gaining momentum that had Sutton holding her breath.

  “I want to marry you, Sutton Spencer,” she admitted. “Winning or losing an election doesn’t mean anything if you aren’t by my side for it.”

  Her arms wrapped around Charlotte’s waist, quick and hard enough that she knew she’d tugged Charlotte right to her tiptoes and then some above the ground. But it didn’t matter when Charlotte’s arms banded around her just as tightly with a laugh.

  “You want to marry me,” she murmured into the crook of Charlotte’s neck.

  “I’ve been so off tonight because I realized when the proposal didn’t happen that I wanted it so much,” Charlotte whispered back, raw honesty in her voice.

  “I didn’t, because I just – I wanted you to be happy, and I . . .” She couldn’t even find the words but for once didn’t feel like they mattered.

  She pressed her mouth to Charlotte’s neck, pausing there before she lifted her head, sliding her hands to Charlotte’s back to support her more fully against her. She pressed a light, soft kiss against the corner of her girlfriend – fiancée’s? – mouth, right where her gorgeous smirk would quirk typically.

  Her mind was still reeling, she leaned into the touch as Charlotte’s fingers stroked through her hair. As she realized –

  The ring.

  The intricately delicate yet ornate rose gold, diamond studded engagement ring that she’d searched to find for months, that was both ostentatious but elegant in a way that she knew Charlotte would love, that was nestled safely in the pocket of her suitcase.

  The image of it in her
mind made her pull back with a gasp. “I need to – I have the ring I bought for you in the bedroom, I need to go get it.”

  Charlotte’s hold on her tightened as she pressed her forehead to Sutton’s. “It can wait.”

  Sutton didn’t need that much convincing because she didn’t want to relinquish her hold on Charlotte in the least.

  Besides, the grin on Charlotte’s face turned sharp and nearly made Sutton’s knees weak. “It’ll wait until the moment you bring me to bed, that is. I want your ring on my finger.” She leaned in, her lips pressing a kiss just under Sutton’s ear. “And you’ll have to wait for the one I have for you until tomorrow. It’s in my work desk.”

  “You got me one, too?”

  “I think, even though I was nervous, I always knew it would be a yes,” Charlotte held her gaze as the words sunk right into Sutton’s heart. Her eyes glinted. “Isn’t that always the case with you?”

  She could only smile in response.

  Charlotte’s smirk was wide, and already turning into an adorable smile, as she lifted up the rose between them. “Accept this, in lieu of my ring for now.”

  “You keep it. I got them for you. Because I’m asking you. I asked you,” she amended.

  Charlotte shook her head as she teased, “Did you? I distinctly remember you saying your initial question wasn’t a proposal . . .”

  She leaned back just a bit, the smile fading a bit but still tugging at her mouth. “Charlotte Thompson, will you marry me?”

  The smile on her face was both playful and so sincerely happy in a way that she didn’t think anyone but Charlotte could accomplish. “Try to stop me.”

  About The Author

  Haley Cass

  Haley lives in Massachusetts, where she has a love/hate relationship with weather extremeties but also can't fathom living somewhere without perfect fall foliage. She spends her time hanging out with her friends, being a goober with her girlfriend, watching too many tv shows, and daydreaming about her next cat. She tries to write as much as she can.