Life in Death

by M. Ullrich

  “You shouldn’t have agreed so quickly. We should have made that decision together.”

  “Together?” Marty looked at her wife, flabbergasted. All of the hurt, anger, and despair built up inside Marty finally detonated. “None of this has been done together!” A nurse stopped, and Marty took a calming breath before speaking again.

  “The last thing we did together was agree to take Abby to this hospital. Ever since then, we’ve been nothing more to one another than someone to carpool with and stand next to when shit starts to get too real. So please, Suzie, tell me again about how the decision to take the next step with Abby’s treatments needed to be done together.” Marty’s eyes burned as she watched Suzanne struggle to dispute her. Ultimately, she remained quiet. “I need a coffee.” Marty turned away and walked slowly to the elevators. The cafeteria was on the opposite side of the hospital, and the long walk would do her good.

  She had managed to keep her fear reined in for so long. Holding back that anxiety kept Marty from lashing out, but she had reached her boiling point. She had promised Suzanne years ago that she’d work on her anger, and she wasn’t about to break that promise now. Yes, a long walk would serve her well.

  The elevator ding signaled her arrival on the ground floor. Marty walked around and past strangers. In times like this, she often tried to imagine what brought the other people there. Sick grandparents, broken bones, and emergency surgeries, she was sure. She stood behind an elderly gentleman as she waited for her beverage. Why me? she wondered. Why Abigail? Why my family?

  “Excuse me? Are you in line?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Are you in line? I’m desperate for a tea, but not desperate enough to be rude and cut in front of you if you were waiting.” The woman’s smile grew a fraction, displaying perfectly aligned white teeth that contrasted sharply with her deep mahogany skin.

  “Yes, I am, but please,” Marty stepped back and waved to the space in front of where she was standing, “go right ahead.” The other woman eyed Marty briefly before counting the few other patrons that had lined up in the meantime.

  “Thank you.” She took Marty’s former place. “I’m loath to admit this, but this is the kindest thing anyone has done for me in a while.”

  “It’s nothing.” Marty was flustered and suddenly feeling very shy, odd for her. “I’d hate to stand between a woman and her tea.” Marty’s nose twitched at the woodsy scent of the other woman’s perfume. “Sandalwood?” she wondered more to herself, but the word got out.

  “Yes,” the stranger said. “Good nose.”

  “An ex-girlfriend of mine used to wear it. I guess I’ll never forget it.” Marty blushed at the unintentional confession. She felt the other woman staring, her skin prickled under the sharp scrutiny.

  “Yvonne.” She introduced herself with an extended feminine hand and waited for Marty to do the same. Marty took her hand. Yvonne was tall and gorgeous, with sharp features and short cropped black hair that highlighted her pronounced cheekbones.

  “Marty.” They shook in greeting and Yvonne held Marty’s hand until it was her turn to order.

  “I blame my ex-girlfriend for my tea addiction.” Yvonne giggled. Marty found the sound delicate and therapeutic. “That among many things. If you have some time, I’ll tell you about how I blame my one ex for my high arches.” Yvonne lifted her right foot playfully.

  Marty looked at her watch and recalled the unaffected look in Suzanne’s eyes when she’d arrived earlier in the afternoon. When she looked back at Yvonne, her smile was unrestrained. Why shouldn’t Marty indulge in conversation for a few minutes? She subconsciously ran her thumb across the cool metal of her wedding band.

  “I have some time.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The night was getting darker. Crickets and katydids called out proudly into the clear, still night. The cloudless evening did not match the storm raging within Suzanne’s psyche and heart. She drove and she drove, helplessly lost and scatterbrained as she raced toward the water. Suzanne needed the soothing roll of the waves to slow down her troublesome thoughts. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she thought about Marty’s wounded green eyes.

  Moments earlier, she had finished a tense phone call with Blake. Their five-minute conversation had been weighted down by pointed questions and vague answers. She had gone to Marty’s for dinner, yes. No, she wasn’t home yet. She wasn’t sure when she would be home, and Suzanne was less than happy with Blake’s entitlement. Blake had hung up on her.

  How had such an innocent evening turned out this way? Suzanne’s laughter sounded odd and out of place in the vehicle’s quiet cabin. She knew better than to assume an evening with Marty would be innocent, especially when the level of intimacy they shared within her former home was overwhelming and felt so, so good.

  When she had heard Marty crying into the phone earlier that afternoon, she didn’t know how to handle it, but what really scrambled her thoughts was how much she felt in that moment. She was engulfed by the need to heal this wounded woman. Suzanne wanted nothing more than to be next to Marty and hold her close until the tears had stopped, whispering soothing reassurances that somehow everything would be okay. She could say those words to Marty even if she didn’t fully believe them herself. Suzanne turned right at the next red light.

  What am I doing? She was happily with Blake now. Am I happy? She slowed the car as it approached a stop sign. He was wonderful to her and treated her so well. She should be happy. Blake had been incredibly supportive during the divorce and Abigail’s death. He seemed to know just what Suzanne needed every step along the way. They even had a past they could retreat to when the present became too heavy to bear. But what about now? What about during the clear light of an average day? Blake was kind and gentle, he had his moments of humor, and he was handsome in a wholesome, conventional way. He didn’t ignite her the way Marty did. Suzanne sighed heavily, pulled the car to the side of the road, and cut the engine in resignation. How many times was she going to have to give herself the same pep talk before she realized she didn’t love the man?

  Suzanne threw her car door open and stepped out, moving like a woman in a hypnotic trance. So many thoughts she had numbed herself to shuffled about, fighting for her consideration and acceptance. She raced up the path, her breath coming in short puffs.

  The key was where it always was, just under the lip of the clay planter to the right of the front door. She let herself in silently, the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. She removed her shoes and left them by the door before going upstairs. The house was shrouded in darkness except for a small flameless candle that flickered on a table at the top of the stairs. She arrived at the top without making a sound and tiptoed to the bedroom. Her heart was thundering in her ears so loudly each beat was followed by a ring.

  The door to Marty’s bedroom was ajar. Marty was sleeping on her side, the bedsheets draped delicately over her bare shoulder. The moonlight cut through the windows brightly enough to highlight Marty’s skin. Suzanne froze. She took a moment to listen to her gut, question her actions, but all she could hear was her heart telling her to move forward.

  Suzanne stripped, desperate to feel Marty’s skin on her own. She slid between the covers and pressed her length against Marty. Marty’s skin was just as soft and warm as she remembered. Suzanne took a shuddering breath as Marty began to stir.

  “Wha—?”

  “Shh…” Suzanne wrapped her arm around Marty’s waist and fanned her fingers across her abdomen. She sat up slightly on her other elbow and nibbled Marty’s exposed ear. “I miss you,” Suzanne said breathily.

  “Suzie?” She turned on her back, and Suzanne smiled brightly at her.

  “I couldn’t go home. I tried.” She laughed in embarrassment. “Then I told myself I’d go sit by the water and think.” Suzanne traced a line from Marty’s stomach to between her breasts. “But I came back.” She raked her short nails along Marty’s chest. “I came back to y
ou.”

  “You came back to me,” Marty whispered with wonder. She brought her hand up to touch Suzanne’s cheek delicately, as if she were testing the reality of a dream.

  Suzanne leaned down and captured Marty’s lips in a fevered kiss. The fire they had stoked earlier still burned between them. Suzanne knew it always would. No amount of sorrow or anger could end her feelings, her desire and need. She kissed Marty with renewed devotion. Gone was the apprehensive voice inside that told her no and reminded her how Marty had hurt her. They had hurt each other. She knew that now.

  Suzanne lay fully atop Marty, whimpering at the feel of their bodies pressed together. Breast to breast, pelvis to pelvis, and mouth to mouth, Suzanne continued to kiss Marty, slowing to a more languid, peaceful pace. She had no need to hurry. This moment wasn’t getting away from them. The sun was long from rising. Not even the most obsessive of clients would call Marty at this time, and Suzanne’s phone had been turned off the moment Blake hung up on her.

  No interruptions, just Suzanne and Marty in bed reviving a love that had seemed lost but remained all along.

  “I love you.” Suzanne felt Marty’s words against her mouth and in her heart.

  Suzanne started rolling her hip rhythmically, coaxing Marty’s thighs apart. She hissed with pleasure when she felt Marty’s wet center press against her shaven mound. The way Marty reacted to her touch had always been a weakness of hers. Suzanne increased the pressure of her seductive circles against Marty’s most sensitive spots. Marty bit down on Suzanne’s shoulder and released a strangled moan.

  “Wait, stop,” Marty said, but Suzanne was determined and growing frenzied with passion. In a swift motion, Marty flipped Suzanne on her back. Suzanne’s blue eyes widened in shock and embarrassment.

  “I’m so sorry, Marty, I—”

  “No, no, no.” Marty peppered Suzanne’s face with small kisses, and Suzanne started to relax. The tension melted from her features and shoulders. Marty wasn’t stopping. She wasn’t rejecting her or changing her mind. Marty simply smiled down at her. Suzanne nuzzled into Marty’s palm when it came up to her cheek. “How is it possible that you’re more beautiful to me now than ever before?”

  Suzanne knew this wasn’t some smooth pillow-talking line Marty was using—she truly meant it. Suzanne grew uncomfortable under the attention.

  “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?” Her attempt at a joke to ease the moment fell flat, and so did Marty’s face. Suzanne was quick to amend herself. “I had forgotten how beautiful you make me feel.” Suzanne laced her fingers into Marty’s and guided her hand away from her cheek and down to her breast. “I’m here.” She kissed Marty deeply, finding the taste she had missed so dearly.

  Suzanne ran her hands along the length of Marty’s back and down to her small buttocks. She gripped them firmly before retracing her steps. Up and down and around again, Suzanne relished the feel of Marty’s silken skin. Marty shivered against Suzanne and kissed along her neck and down to her chest. Marty enveloped Suzanne’s dusky nipple with her warm mouth, her tongue trailing around the pebbled flesh before she nipped at it. Suzanne called out, the fire in her body turning into a blaze of uncontrollable proportions.

  “Marty, please,” Suzanne begged and whimpered. She was about to go insane feeling Marty’s fingers on her heated skin but never leading to where she needed them most. “I need—I want…”

  “Shh…I know what you want, but you’re going to have to be patient.” Suzanne felt the ghost of a touch along her inner thigh. Her pussy clenched. “I’ve been waiting so long for this moment, and I didn’t think I’d ever have it again.” Marty kissed the peak of one breast and then the other. “Now that I have you, I plan on enjoying it.”

  The little light illuminating the room was just enough for Suzanne to see Marty’s teasing smirk. In that moment, she hated herself for ever believing she loved Marty any less than with her whole heart. She let go of that hate and focused on the adoration that filled her chest.

  “I love you, Marty.” Suzanne sat up slightly and kissed her. “I love you so much, and because of that, I won’t kill you for torturing me.” She moved her hand stealthily beneath the blanket. “But I do not plan on playing fair.” Suzanne entered Marty swiftly and easily with two fingers. She was so wet and ready for her, Suzanne felt Marty’s inner muscles responding immediately.

  “Shit!” Marty’s arms gave out, and her full weight came down on Suzanne, who delighted in it. She slid in and out of Marty, her palm pressed just so against her hardened clit. Marty searched for the edge of the covers with her right hand.

  Within seconds, Marty filled Suzanne with three fingers. “Oh God! Marty!” Her wail echoed in the bedroom. Both women moved their hips in time. Neither was in a hurry to reach their shared ecstasy, but their bodies didn’t understand the desire to move slow and relish such wonderful pleasure.

  Suzanne was the first to start shaking. The rush of blood coursing through her veins and between her legs was intense. She gripped the damp curls at the back of Marty’s neck and tried to focus on how soft and warm Marty felt in her palm.

  “I’m so close,” Marty warned.

  “Me too, baby, me too.” Suzanne clenched her jaw and started to whine as warmth flooded her body. “Come with me.” Those three words were all the permission they needed.

  Together their bodies ignited in release. Marty called out to Suzanne desperately, her green eyes open and focused on Suzanne’s face for as long as possible. Once the tremors of pleasure had subsided, Marty moved off Suzanne slightly, her wet hand resting on her stomach. Suzanne’s fingers remained in Marty even as their heartbeats returned to normal.

  A single tear ran down the side of Suzanne’s face as a feeling of coming home filled her and lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

  *

  When Marty awoke in the morning, she cursed the sun. Although she hadn’t looked at the clock yet, it felt too early. She stretched languidly and enjoyed the tightness in her muscles as she moved. Each twinge of pain was a physical reminder of the night before. She looked to her side and sighed at the empty space. Suzanne’s absence wasn’t a surprise to her. Suzanne often struggled with emotional moments—good or bad. She just hoped Suzanne recognized this as a good one.

  Marty got up and dressed in her most sinfully comfortable clothes before brushing her teeth and using the bathroom. She left the bedroom while saying a silent prayer she had something worth eating for breakfast. A sniffle coming from Abigail’s bedroom caught her attention. She peeked in and found Suzanne sitting on Abigail’s bed. She was dressed in one of Marty’s oldest Princeton Tshirts, and the letter written to Marty was set on her lap. She leaned against the doorway.

  “She was smart.”

  Marty’s soft comment startled Suzanne. The blonde wiped away a tear. “Too smart!” She laughed lightly and folded the letter.

  Marty walked into the room and sat beside her. Minutes ticked by in comfortable silence.

  “She told me about the time the two of you were bird watching.” Marty watched Suzanne’s brow furrow as she searched her mind for the memory. “You said you wished I was there. And then I found this.” Marty picked up the paper and turned it over several times in her hands. It should feel weighty because of its significance, but it was nothing more than ordinary. “This is what made me call you after the funeral. I actually found it right after you left and after my mom scolded me for my behavior.” She shook her head at the not-too-distant memory. “I was destroyed—I lost you, and I had just buried my daughter.” Marty’s chin quivered, and she took a steadying breath. “It was like Abby just knew.” Suzanne took Marty’s hand and rubbed it between her own. “I wouldn’t give up on us, not after this. Anything you would’ve given me I would’ve taken. Friendship or more.” She looked down at their joined hands.

  Marty thought back through the struggles they had overcame to get here. She still had so much to ask and discuss, but she needed to know what was next, and she
needed to apologize. She had to explain herself and tell Suzanne what had happened that night.

  “Are you mine again?” she asked shyly. Her eyes never met Suzanne’s.

  “I always was.” Suzanne leaned in for a kiss, but Marty pulled back.

  “We need to talk about that night and what had happened between us.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I need to, Suzie.” Marty looked to Suzanne with pleading eyes. “We needed to have this conversation back then, but I couldn’t talk to you. Things are different now, and I don’t want any questions between us, no skeletons in the closet. If everything is out in the open, we can have a fresh start. And maybe,” Marty shrugged weakly, “maybe you can trust me again?”

  Suzanne took a shuddering breath. “Okay, but I need coffee first, and then maybe I should tell you more about Blake too.”

  Marty swallowed hard. She was ready to tell Suzanne about her moments of weakness, but was she ready to hear about Suzanne’s?

  At First They Grew Distant

  Hey, how are you?” Blake said.

  “Tired,” Suzanne admitted, her eyes fixed on the gray clouds outside the large windows of the hospital.

  “I’m heading in now to start my shift. I could bring you lunch…” The silence was a question in itself. “Or I could treat you to the usual cafeteria fare. I know how much you love their dry turkey on stale wheat bread.”

  Suzanne laughed weakly before declining the offer. “Marty will be here soon. I think she plans on spending most of the day for once. She moved around a few appointments or canceled a meeting. Something like that.”

  “Oh.” Blake’s disappointment was evident, which made Suzanne smile again. They had grown close again during Abigail’s hospitalization. He comforted her, and having an old friend floating around made her feel less lonely. “That’s really good.”