TWENTY-TWO

"...You had to kill me

but it killed you just the same..."

———

"What do you want from me?" Dorothea trembled. "You changed your number. You blocked me—"

"And you act like you've never done one thing to hurt me," Nick cut in. He paused, as though remembering something, then gave a half-hearted laugh. "Oh my god...You're just such a fucking liar."

"Really? Really. When did I ever lie to you?" Dorothea pressed, her voice echoing down the hallway. Realizing the attention that would follow, she drew inward. She suddenly felt that rare twist of rage form in the back of her neck, just like the night she almost jumped the counter and had to resist the urge to knock Tyler's lights out at Bar None. "Tell me," she grilled.

"You were lying to me the entire year before you dropped out of school!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Seriously? Come on." He laughed again. "You and Sophie Carter?"

Dorothea's frantic gaze suddenly locked on the painted cinder block wall across from her. She dug her fingernails into her free hand, her voice low and razor sharp,  "I wasn't screwing my best friend."

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure Sophie would tell that story a little differently—"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"Admit it," Nick countered, a rotten note of victory in his tone, "you cheated on me first."

Dorothea felt as though she swallowed a bucket of glass. "Rot in hell."

"Well, hopefully you'll at least give Taylor a warning, if you change your mind."

Dorothea hung up on him, then held back the impulsive, nasty scream that threatened to escape her clenched teeth. She squeezed her grip around the phone, wishing it was enough to crush the device to a thousand pieces. He would be laughing now, wherever the hell he was, convinced that he had the upper hand. He called her to make sure she knew that. That was always his reason for confrontation. Nick Keller was bottom-of-the-barrel slime and yet he could convince someone he was worth every last penny; that even if it came down to being entirely broke and homeless, she would still the one who was in the wrong.

Dorothea looked up and down the hallway, then back towards the dressing room. Her arms and hands felt awkward, as though she had lost control of their movement. She quickly realized her legs felt the same way as she began walking towards the exit door at the end of the corridor.

Outside, the hot air immediately struck her, along with the midday sun blazing behind a layer of LA smog. Dorothea walked a few paces down the strip of sidewalk in the narrow alley between the warehouses of the studio lot. She was about to lower herself onto the curb, but stopped. She paced. Stopped. Paced.

The sudden blare of a siren in the distance almost knocked her off her feet, yet simultaneously launched her back three years to sitting on the roof of her dorm building at NYU.

She was failing two classes. Summer was approaching. She was wondering if her job at The Palace Diner would be enough to cover books for the next semester. Her dad was sick and only getting worse.

That day, she confirmed the girl who Nick was cheating on her with, only due to the twist in fate that landed them at the same table in the library while studying for finals. They didn't speak. She only listened with her earbuds in but off, as the girl ranted to her friend about Nick Keller, the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Her.

It wasn't the first time she saw the girl. She showed up at house parties; bar outings with the group on Saturday afternoons; always at the gym, coincidentally, when Nick was working there. It only became apparent in the last month, when she realized that she saw the girl nearly every day. Again, they never spoke.

Like many times that year, Dorothea had found herself sitting on her old purple blanket, on the concrete slab of the roof long past dark. Sirens and car horns and the rattle of air-conditioners came together in the only symphony that could drown out the deafening volume of her thoughts. She was lost and confused and now hurting. Though truly, the latter had been going on for much longer.

It didn't take long for Sophie to find her. More and more it seemed like that had become their rendezvous point, as opposed to the dorm room they shared five stories below. She didn't even have to turn around, as the wind was already carrying the smell of the the girl's perfume.

The cinnamon-blonde had sat down on the vacant spot on the blanket next to her. There was that small, standard gap between them that Sophie didn't hesitate to breach when she pulled her knees up, elbows sticking out.

"Not much longer until we lose this view," she said, her pale eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Can't come soon enough," Dorothea sighed.

Sophie smiled. "Agreed. But isn't there a little part of you that's going to miss it?"

"Not at all," she replied, although she knew what the other girl was referring to. "This year fucking sucked."

"I don't believe that," Sophie disagreed, "and I know you don't either. Not entirely."

Dorothea shook her head. "The only thing this year taught me was that I'm just as much of a stranger to myself as I am to the millions of people in this city."

"You're not a stranger to me."

Dorothea copied the other girl's position, tugging her knees into her chest. "If I don't know myself, how am I ever supposed to understand someone else?"

Sophie brushed up against her, but didn't draw back. She looked at her in the same manner she had countless times that year. It flooded her with warmth and relief. Sometimes, though, it only made her that much more confused.

The blonde looked at her and sighed, "The truth is, I don't think we'll ever know who we are. And I really think that's the only thing that brings people together."

"And tiny moments," Dorothea added.

"Tiny moments," Sophie agreed. "Good and bad."

"Daydreams hidden in our worst nightmares."

Dorothea startled as a pair of stage crew members came outside and lit up a few cigarettes. She swiped at her eyes, even though they were dry.

There were lots of tiny moments between her and Sophie that year. She lied to Nick. But he lied, too. He was also first to cheat, or so she thought. The more time passed, the harder it became for her to remember. Nick was a master at spinning the past, perfecting the seesaw between truth and reality. The more it happened, the less Dorothea trusted her own memory.

But one thing she knew with certainty was that they both were struggling with their own identities. And between two people, that could easily be enough to tear them apart.

The back door opened again, and this time Taylor appeared. The look of concern on her face was detectable even from the distance.

"Are you alright? What's going on?" The singer asked breathlessly, meeting her against the concrete wall.

"I'm fine," she assured, flashing a brief smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disappear."

"But you're okay?" Taylor questioned.

She nodded, leaning back against the wall. "Just needed some air."

"Who was that? On the phone?"

Dorothea met the blonde's eyes, then quickly dropped her gaze to the pavement. "It was my ex," she answered quietly.

"Nick?"

She nodded again. "Apparently he saw the photo."

A noise escaped the other woman that Dorothea had never heard before. It was hard to tell if it was disbelief or disgust. Most likely a mixture of both. "That's what drove him to finally call you?" She asked.

"It was the first thing he mentioned." Dorothea shrugged.

"What did he even want?" Taylor groaned, then suddenly her expression fell. "Wait, did you tell him about the baby?"

She shook her head. "No."

There was something in the way she said it that signaled the other woman not to press the issue any further. Taylor had never questioned her about reaching Nick. If anything, it was a relief to have someone in her life prove to her that even without a father, both she and her baby would still be loved.

A daydream hidden in her worst nightmare.

Dorothea looked up at Taylor. "Can I ask you something?" When the blonde met her gaze, she said, "Are you sure you want this? Because before you know it, it's not going to be just me."

"I want both of you," Taylor stated firmly, taking one of her hands and squeezing it, "and you know damn well that's the only way I've imagined my future since the day you told me."

Dorothea nodded, then slowly dropped her head against the older woman's shoulder. She felt Taylor's lips press against her hairline and watched as a pair of pigeons squabbled over a piece of a bagel near the dumpster.

Tiny moments, good and bad.

———

April 14th, 2018

There was less than a month until the tour kickoff in Glendale and the last few weeks in Los Angeles had been a whirlwind. Nearly every day was packed, and each one left Taylor more exhausted than the previous. But her excitement kept her going. Even when she didn't make it to bed until two am, so physically drained that she was sure her bones would melt, these days she was truly the happiest she'd ever been.

Dorothea was happy, too. At least, she appeared to be. Taylor noticed as their time in LA bled by, the girl had become just a little bit quieter. It was only noticeable to her, though, because those were the sorts of details one picked up on when learning every bit of another person.

She worried after the surprise call from Nick. It could have easily been one of her exes doing the exact same thing. The brunette never mentioned the call after they went back inside that afternoon. Taylor noticed a shift in Dorothea for the few days that followed, but gradually her happiness returned. She still worried, though she had to remind herself that she couldn't control how the younger woman felt. Even if she knew there were a few times Dorothea had only been smiling for her.

She wasn't sure what to expect when they returned to New York. The last week they spent in LA, it seemed as though Dorothea's laughter was constantly filling the air; her smile burned in Taylor's thoughts; shining in the darkness when they both finally collapsed side-by-side in bed, after every endless day. Their happiness was so close to what it was during their magical escape in Dallas, she feared that if she didn't capture it, it would slip right through her desperate fingers.

Luckily, though, Dorothea was thrilled when they got back to the opposite coast. Stupid happy. Grinning as she skipped down the sidewalk to Taylor's apartment, as though that was exactly where she was meant to be.

The night before Dorothea's appointment with Dr. Marshall, Taylor had been working late in her music room. She'd recently been overcome with the need to write and experiment, often losing track of time in the process. When she'd finally resigned herself to call it a night just before one in the morning, she was surprised to find that her bed was vacant.

She turned around and went back downstairs, glancing around the rooms as she passed them. Less than a minute later, though, she spotted Dorothea, passed out in front of her laptop at the kitchen table. Taylor smiled, then carefully approached her.

Somehow, the girl had managed to take up every inch of that eight-seater table's surface. Along with her computer, there was her camera, multiple lenses, a notebook, test prints, two coffee mugs, pens and markers scattered about, and a jar of peanut butter in the corner with a knife and a missing lid. Even without Dorothea slumped over the table, it would have been a fascinating scene. The passion the brunette had for her work was obvious.

Taylor, still smiling, quietly pulled the chair out next to Dorothea and sat down. She glanced at the computer screen and had to hold back a laugh when she eyed the nightmare amount of tabs open in the Internet browser. There had to be duplicates. Taylor smiled curiously, resting her chin in one palm as she reached her other hand to the track pad and hovered over the tabs.

...Top Picks for Baby Strollers: 2018 Edition...

...Google: what to expect pregnancy month 4....

...Vogue Fashion: Twenty MUST-HAVE Swimsuits of the Summer...

...Google: photoshop lighting tool for profile re-touch not working...

...Google: photoshop crash using magic wand tool...

...Top 100 UNIQUE Baby Names of 2018...

...Google: signs of premature labor...

...Google: can eating too much peanut butter while pregnant make your baby allergic...

Taylor laughed out loud at the last tab, immediately clamping her hand over her mouth as the brunette stirred at her side. She then lowered the same hand and placed it on the small bump above Dorothea's hips. It was only a week before that she realized the younger woman was starting to show. The two of them had been laying in bed—fooling around—when Taylor slid her hand beneath Dorothea's shirt in an attempt to undo the tie in her pajama shorts, only to pause in surprise when she brushed against the protrusion. They had both locked eyes, and all Dorothea said was, "Yes, in case you forgot, we have company."

The younger woman murmured a few quiet sounds, waking up as Taylor gently rubbed her stomach. She squinted at the laptop, then at the blonde. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi." Taylor laughed. "You should be in bed."

Dorothea grumbled, rubbing her eyes. "And so should you."

"Couldn't sleep,"

"Neither could I. Well, up until an hour ago," Dorothea said, turning her attention to the computer.

"I'll buy you a gallon of peanut butter cup ice cream if you can name all seventy-five tabs you have open without looking." Taylor grinned.

Dorothea smiled. "Believe it or not, it's organized chaos. Also, there's already two in the freezer."

"Organized chaos," Taylor mused, "is that also what you call the mess on this table?"

Dorothea stretched and groaned purposely loud, "Oh, is it bothering you?"

"In the worst way."

"Perfect."

Taylor looked at Dorothea, shaking her head. The girl drove her absolutely wild. "Just so you know, even if you don't sleep another minute, you're going to that doctor's appointment tomorrow," she warned.

Dorothea smiled sleepily. "What are you going to do, drag me?"

"By the ankles, if it comes down to it,"

"Is that a threat?"

"If you want to speed up the process of getting your ass in bed, I'll demonstrate right now."

Dorothea laughed, flopping against the singer. "Let's have sex!"

"You'd still be going that appointment."

"I know." Dorothea leaned against her chest, taking one of Taylor's arms and draping it across her front. Her smile fell as she picked up the blonde's hand, playing with her fingers. She then asked quietly, "You're coming with me, right?"

"Mhm," Taylor hummed, tracing circles along the shorter woman's arm, then added, "if that's still what you want."

Dorothea nodded, and for less than a second, Taylor witnessed a distant look flash across her features. She found herself instinctively wrapping the brunette more securely in her arms, then rested her lips against the crown of her head. Though only seconds before she had been pressuring the other woman to get upstairs, she was perfectly okay with lingering for another moment.

"Dr. Marshall said she'll be able to identify the sex," Dorothea mentioned a few seconds later.

"Do you want to know?" Taylor asked.

"I don't know," she replied, "what if..."

"Hm?"

Dorothea suddenly shook her head, stiffening against her. She then whispered, "What if he or she ends up being exactly like him?"

Taylor bit her lip, knowing very well what the younger woman meant. She pressed her lips against Dorothea's temple, then held them there. "You might disagree, but I refuse to think that's possible, judging by how much love this baby already has," she murmured.

Dorothea looked up at her with fragile eyes. "But what if it's not enough?"

Taylor lifted her hand and caressed the woman's face. "Again, I refuse to think that's possible," she said, "because I already love this baby to pieces, too."