by Erin Zak
Until, of course, he leaned over and said, “I love Stevie. She’s good for you.”
Bernadette shook her head. “Yeah, she’s wonderful.”
“You don’t sound very convinced.”
“I found out earlier that she got the SNL job.” Bernadette glared at Paul. “Don’t say anything. She doesn’t know I know.”
“Oh. Wow.” Paul sighed. “I’m sorry, Bern.”
“It’s fine. I knew it was going to happen.”
“Well,” Paul started, his voice a whisper, “you know we could reopen the discussion about moving Mom into a facility.”
“Paul. No.” Bernadette rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because. We’re fine here. I’m giving her more space. She’s fine.” Bernadette studied her mother still sipping her coffee and Baileys while watching Stevie with the girls.
Paul groaned. “You are so stubborn.”
“Stop. Please? I do not want to do this today.”
“You realize if you would listen to me, you’d be able to go with Stevie? You could leave and do what I’ve been begging you to do since Dad died.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but his anger and annoyance were coming through loud and clear.
Bernadette turned and locked eye contact. His eyes were pleading with her to consider it, and deep down inside, she knew she should start to think about it, to consider it, if for no other reason than to hang on to her relationship with Stevie. But something in the back of her mind kept telling her that leaving and trying to live without the constant feeling of someone depending on her was going to do nothing but make her feel like a failure. She would never be able to spread her wings and fly. Not without leaving her home, her family, her mother…Connie.
“Think about it, okay? I put a brochure in your room on your dresser.” Paul went to stand but stopped and looked back. “It’s the place she picked out.” And he stood and walked over to the smaller couch where Marci was sitting. “Time to open gifts,” he shouted, and the kids jumped up and cheered.
Chapter Nineteen
The lights from Stevie’s Christmas tree twinkled as she sat next to Bernadette on the couch. She was trying to gather the strength to break the news, but all she kept doing was sipping the hot cider with bourbon she’d made for them. Bernadette was so on edge after her family’s Christmas party. Stevie could practically see the stress sitting on her chest. And she’d barely said a word since they left Bernadette’s house. She didn’t speak on the train. She didn’t open up on the walk to the apartment. Not even when they got into the apartment did she start to talk. But as they sat there, both sipping their cider drinks, Bernadette seemed to be relaxing. Her stress was melting, little by little. She didn’t want to ruin it, but stretching it out was only making it harder.
“This is good cider.” Bernadette’s voice was quiet as it broke through Stevie’s thoughts.
“Gram makes it like this every year.” She wanted to roll her eyes at the small talk. She was so mad at herself. Say it. Open your mouth and fucking say it. “So—”
“I already know.”
Stevie almost dropped her mug of cider.
“Your grandmother said something about it. About you leaving. And I knew.” Bernadette looked at Stevie, her eyes filled with tears. “I am so proud of you. And you deserve this. You deserve it.”
Stevie was sitting completely still. She couldn’t stop staring into Bernadette’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Bernadette took Stevie’s mug and leaned forward to set both on the coffee table. She turned her body, her right leg completely on the couch, her left foot firmly planted on the floor. The snow which started as they walked from the L platform to the apartment had caused the curl in her hair to fall out. Her makeup was still flawless, though. Everything about her was startling. She looked breathtaking. “I have to tell you something,” Bernadette started, and her voice was deep, sultry.
Stevie felt as if this was one of those moments that happened in a person’s life that they never forgot. This was a life-defining moment. Right now. Right here. And aside from being so scared she could feel her own heart beating inside her chest, she was so very ready for whatever Bernadette was going to say.
“You need to go. You need to go and kill it and never fucking look back. You hear me?” Bernadette blinked, and the tears in her eyes started to slide down her cheeks. “This is what you’ve always wanted, and I am not going to hold you back. I want you to do this, to have the time of your life, to succeed, to be so very happy.”
“But—”
“No.” Bernadette placed her index finger on Stevie’s lips. “Don’t. I will be fine. Okay? I’ll survive.”
It happened quickly and without a lot of thought, but for the first time ever, Stevie didn’t try to stop herself from doing something stupid. “I love you,” she said, and the only part of her body that failed her were her eyes. She started to cry almost instantly. “I love you so much. I don’t want to leave.”
Bernadette was crying even harder now. “You’re not staying. You’re not. I won’t allow it.”
“I don’t want to leave you, though. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”
“I know.” Bernadette leaned forward, kissed Stevie softly, then pulled back the smallest amount. “I love you, too, by the way.”
Stevie couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorable Bernadette sounded. She reached up and took Bernadette’s face in her hands, wiped at her tears with her thumb. “I’ll miss you.”
“You’re going to meet so many amazing people. You won’t have time to miss me too much.”
“You underestimate how important you are to me.”
Bernadette smiled as she stood up and held her hand out. “Why don’t you come show me?”
* * *
It wasn’t breakup sex. Neither of them had said they were breaking up. But it sure felt that way to Stevie. She could almost hear the final good-bye happening as they kissed. Bernadette was guarding herself. She wasn’t as open; her movements weren’t as honest. She seemed trapped between being thrilled and being devastated, and Stevie knew it was all her fault. There was no going back, though, and Stevie wondered if she completely comprehended exactly what was happening.
She wasn’t just leaving a city and job she loved. While those things were important, it was also so much more than that. She was going to leave her family, her friends, the scene of an accident that changed everything about her. And she was going to leave Bernadette. Wonderful, sweet, caring, beautiful Bernadette.
Traveling down this path with Bernadette should have never happened. Stevie realized it as she slipped out of her yoga pants, and Bernadette pulled her oversized sweatshirt over her head. She should have kept her head on straight. She should have never stumbled through that fucking beaded curtain. And she definitely should have never let the stupid tarot card reading shake her to the core.
But it happened. It all happened, and there was no longer anything she could do to fight it. The only thing left to do was to walk away. And walking away was the last thing she wanted to do. She started out so sure of herself and her ability to up and leave when need be, but now she was struggling with the idea of it, let alone the actual follow-through.
And Bernadette…
Stevie’s eyes fluttered open as Bernadette started to travel down her body, paying extra close attention to the birthmark and then the scar. Her lips felt like velvet, and the pads of her fingers as she lightly ran them up and down Stevie’s bare legs were like silk. Did she not want to feel this ever again? Was that really what she wanted?
She was so caught up in her own emotional tornado that not until Bernadette’s fingers slid through her wetness did she realize what was happening. She squeezed her eyelids together and focused her attention where it needed to be, on this wonderful woman, on the love they shared, even if it would be over in a little less than twelve hours.
“Are you okay, my love?�
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Bernadette’s voice broke through Stevie’s thoughts, and reality started to crash all around her. She could hear the worry in Bernadette’s voice, but she didn’t know what to do or how to explain what was happening in her mind, so she simply nodded. Tears were starting to sting her eyes, and the thought that she would never feel like this again started to loom in the distance.
“Stevie?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you open your eyes?”
Stevie waited a beat before she did as she was asked. She found Bernadette’s dark eyes in her softly lit bedroom. The sadness in those eyes made the tears in Stevie’s start to form with more ferocity. And she knew it would all be over the minute she started crying. She could see the scene playing out in her head. She’d throw her hands up, she’d call the casting director, she’d cancel everything, and she’d stay. God…she would stay. What the fuck was happening to her?
“Stop,” Bernadette whispered. She moved her hands slowly up to Stevie’s hips, to her sides, where she gently dug her fingertips into her muscles. “You have to stop.”
“How do you even know what I’m thinking?” Stevie’s voice cracked, and she realized then that whatever she tried to say to Bernadette wouldn’t be believed. Hell, Stevie herself wouldn’t even believe whatever lies she was getting ready to tell.
“Do you have any idea how tense you are right now?” Bernadette walked them both to the bed and sat. She pulled on Stevie’s arm until she did the same. “Lie down,” she instructed, and Stevie did. She watched Bernadette, her movements, how she was now kneeling on the bed, her breasts bare, her hands firmly planted on her thighs. And regardless of the situation, her body couldn’t help but react to the sight.
“I am not tense.”
Bernadette’s eyebrows rose practically to her hairline. “Are you kidding me?”
“You act like you know me so well.” She continued with her protest and propped herself on both elbows. She forced herself to smile, to make a joke out of the situation, because anything else would have resulted in tragedy.
“I know you fairly well.” Bernadette sighed and rubbed the tops of her thighs. Stevie was torn between her own sadness and being absolutely and unequivocally aroused by everything Bernadette was doing. Even the way the loose curls in her hair had fallen over her shoulder and how her lipstick was smudged. Bernadette tilted her head, moved her left hand, and placed it on Stevie’s thigh, her thumb on one side, her fingers on the other, right above her kneecap. She put some weight into her touch and moved her hand up, up, up, until her fingers brushed against Stevie’s center. “You have to go. Okay?”
She bit her lip in response because the sadness she was feeling was no match for the fucking look on Bernadette’s face.
“You cannot stay.”
“Don’t you want me to stay?” she asked, and Bernadette’s sharp intake of breath made her falter a bit. “You do, don’t you?”
“I would be a complete imbecile if I didn’t want you to stay. I am in love with you, Stevie Adams. But”—she shrugged—“it’s not that simple, is it?”
“I don’t have to go, though. I can stay.” She sat up and grabbed Bernadette’s hands. She held them tight and looked into her eyes. “I can stay.”
Bernadette shook her head. “No, Stevie. You can’t.”
“Why? Why can’t I stay? I don’t even want to go.”
Bernadette shook her head again. “Yes, you do. Stop saying that. Stop. You are not staying here for me. I could never live with the fact that you let your dreams slip through your fingers for me.”
“Come with me then.”
Bernadette’s mouth opened as if she was going to respond, but no sound came out.
“Come with me. You can come with me.” She gauged Bernadette’s reaction. “We can be happy there.”
“I can’t,” Bernadette whispered.
“Why? Your mom wants you to be happy, Bernadette. She wants your happiness, and you know it.”
“Stevie, stop!” Bernadette ripped her hands from Stevie’s and folded her arms across her bare chest. “Stop. I’m not leaving.”
“So this is it?” Stevie motioned to the both of them. “We’re just going to fuck and say good-bye to each other tomorrow?”
Bernadette didn’t move. She sat completely still, and except for the sound of her breathing, everything was deathly quiet. Even the normal sounds of Chicago were muted.
“Why don’t you leave now, then?” She heard the words come out of her mouth and immediately regretted it, especially when she saw the look of fear and sadness wash over Bernadette’s face. “Wait,” she said as she reached out when Bernadette started to move. “Don’t. Don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that…I’m just…”
Bernadette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please, stop making this harder than it needs to be.”
The words stung. So very badly. It was never going to be easy. Falling for Bernadette and leaving was never going to be a breeze. But Bernadette was right, so Stevie poured water on the burning ember of anger inside herself. Bernadette was hurt and sad and so was she. “Stay with me tonight,” she whispered as she pulled on Bernadette’s hand. “Stay. Don’t leave like this.” She waited until Bernadette finally opened her eyes before she moved so she was kneeling on the bed in front of Bernadette. “I want to spend one more night with you before”—she leaned forward, placed her lips on Bernadette’s chest, and kissed her soft skin—“I become rich and famous, and you regret not moving to NYC with me.” She felt Bernadette’s laughter before she heard it. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t know if you’d laugh or not.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Bernadette said as she playfully grabbed her face, pushed her lips against Stevie’s, and kissed her. The kiss escalated, and they fell onto the bed, Bernadette’s hand slipping between Stevie’s legs and her fingers finding Stevie’s wetness with ease. When Bernadette pushed two fingers inside, she bit down hard on Stevie’s bottom lip, and moments before she drew blood, she broke the kiss. “You better never forget me.”
“How could I ever forget you?” Her question fell between breathy gasps and moans as her orgasm started to build in the pit of her stomach. Bernadette’s thumb was on her clit now, fingers still firmly inside her, when Stevie pushed her fingers into Bernadette’s hair. She gripped her hair tightly, pulled on it, heard Bernadette groan from the pain. “You’ll be the only thing I remember.”
“Come for me,” Bernadette whispered. “I want you to unravel.”
She pulled Bernadette’s face to hers and kissed her roughly right as her orgasm crashed into her. She moaned into Bernadette’s mouth, dug her fingers into Bernadette’s scalp and the back of her neck, and finally broke from the kiss when her muscles’ shaking and quivering began to subside. “I love you.” Her voice was small, quiet, and she thought she needed to say it again because maybe she didn’t even say it out loud.
“I love you more.” Bernadette smiled, but she looked conflicted. And for good reason.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“No. Don’t. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.”
Bernadette leaned down and placed a kiss on Stevie’s jawline. “You’re right. It’s not. But we’ll survive.”
Stevie understood what it meant to love someone so much that you hated them a little, because in that moment, Stevie hated that Bernadette wasn’t begging her to stay.
* * *
The United Airlines check-in area at O’Hare International Airport was a sea of people. For the introverted side of Bernadette, it would have been a perfect people-watching opportunity. Unfortunately, she was too preoccupied with trying not to cry as she stood and waited for Stevie to check her luggage. She was positive she was the one being watched this time. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, she had no makeup on, she was wearing her glasses, and under her winter parka, she was wearing yoga pants and an old Chicago Bears sweatshirt. And the best par
t? Her tall winter boots with fur along the top. Not exactly fashion-forward, but it had snowed a foot during the night, and she would have to trudge through it from the L platform back to her house. The entire ensemble was not something she would have ever let Stevie see this early in their relationship, but what the hell? Stevie was leaving. In a few short minutes, their relationship would be over. Who the fuck cared what she looked like as she watched the love of her life leave?
Bernadette folded her arms across her chest. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, then the side of her tongue, anything to make her stop focusing on the teary good-bye approaching with more speed than she was comfortable with. She was so afraid to say good-bye to Stevie, so afraid to leave the airport and know she would never see her again, but more importantly, she was so afraid Stevie wouldn’t leave. The idea that she would be what held this incredible woman back from pursuing her dreams was too much for Bernadette to handle. And the tentative way Stevie had been acting all morning was a clear indication that she was second-guessing going to New York City, second-guessing leaving the comfortable and intimate Improv Chicago for the glitz and glamour of Saturday Night Live. She could see Stevie at the front of the line now, her two giant suitcases sitting beside her. She, at least, looked presentable in jeans, a black and white houndstooth blazer, and a black shirt. Her black booties were adorable and completed the outfit. Stevie was being picked up from the airport by one of the NBC pages, so she wanted to make sure she looked professional. And she absolutely did.
Stevie was walking toward her now, and all she could do was bite down harder on the inside of her cheek. Any harder and she was going to draw blood. “All set?” Bernadette asked. Stevie was standing next to her, gripping her winter coat in her hands.
“Yes.” Stevie’s voice did not sound sure.
“Come on.” She slid her hand down Stevie’s arm to her hand. She intertwined their fingers and brought their joined hands to her lips. She kissed Stevie’s hand and looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to be fine.”
