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Assistant: Title: Hello Darlin’
        Author: Walkingdownadarkalley Walkingdownadarkalley 
        Chapter: 14/14 
        Summary: It all started when Powder put up a wedding invitation on the fridge.I asked her not to mention Caitlyn, yet she openly recalls old stories and memories in a fond manner, a way to tease me. Each one is a stab to the heart, but over the years the pain numbed down to a dull, muted ache.ORSeveral years after a break up and zero communication, Vi gets a sudden invite to her ex’s wedding in London. Powder encourages her to go, but Vi isn’t sure she’s ready to see Caitlyn after things ended badly.
        Contents: Chapter 14: Happy
    

    

        
          
          
            Some much needed explanation.
          
        

      
        
          TW recreational marijuana activities, but it's light and all responsible and good :>
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    
  Caitlyn asked me if I wanted to come over to get high.
 
  At first, she was nervous about it, trying to be sensitive to my past, but that just made my bones ache in a way I couldn’t explain. Luckily, to alleviate the tension in her awkward ask, I was able to pull my wallet from my back pocket and proudly show her a medical marijuana card I honestly forgot was in there.
 
  She giggled at me, nudging me with her elbow as she got a better look at it. She demanded an explanation later before we temporarily parted ways.
 
  Personally, I always had good luck in keeping my weed and alcohol use very separate. It helped that it was Powder who introduced me to it, thus associating it with such a positive figure. I was so proud of her as I watched her be truly responsible with it, taking the time to teach me about recognizing my comfort levels and warning signs. It brought back a little pride to my being that perhaps I hadn’t failed her as a role model after all.
 
  Her support, and her owning all the supplies (I just never really thought to get my own for some reason), made it easy for me to treat it with respect and not abuse it the way I did alcohol. It was the occasional treat for me. 
 
  It meant a fun, easygoing movie night and too much take out with my little sister. I wouldn’t 
  
    dare 
  
  taint that with misuse. 
 
  
    I just couldn’t.
  
 
  Besides, the face I got from Caitlyn when I revealed I smoked was priceless. Never mind though, as my own expression when she revealed she liked to smoke semi regularly was most likely even more so. 
 
  But when I took my cab from where I decompressed at the hotel to Caitlyn’s apartment, a weird sense of limbo took over my body. The sensation was like I was walking in water, as if in a frustrating dream.
 
  It was hard to believe I was there before, in her apartment, only last night. Where she stumbled, bumped into her bedroom door frame. Where I helped tuck her in, and found what I thought was my first piece of closure. How wrong I was; it was laughable. It felt as if I were in a strange alternate reality by accident, like I shouldn’t be there. My socked feet felt weird and tingly against her carpet when she let me in and I took off my shoes. My hands didn’t know what to do with themselves when she offered me a seat on the couch, and they fidgeted against my legs. The very skin I was wearing started to feel like it was itching and hot from the inside out when I saw her kneel in front of me, taking a seat on the ground next to her coffee table instead of on the sofa as well. 
 
  She didn’t look at me, kept her own hands in her lap. Noticing then she had changed, obviously, from her large poofy wedding dress, she was now in a satin nightgown. Lavender in color, when her hands smoothed against her thighs, it wrinkled the reflections around her waist. Pointedly, when I noticed that detail, I looked away. I could hear her open her mouth a few times but then close it again.
 
  It was awkward, to say the least. So many words left unsaid but spoken in the silence between us. Our minds were melding, but we weren’t sure if it was each of our imaginations, or if it was real. We wouldn’t know, not until much later, when all of this had resolved. Not until we found the courage to actually speak. 
 
  I didn’t like how she sat herself on the floor, instead of at a level field next to me. Like she felt unworthy. I hated it, actually. So, I slid from my place, taking my own seat at her side, and with a quiet look, she regarded me with a little confusion, followed up by what looked to be nothing more than pure sadness. She didn’t speak on it, content to let the stagnant gesture go unmentioned. But we both knew we saw it. 
 
  At this point I was tired. I 
  
    had 
  
  been ever since I first received her invite. I couldn’t tell you all the times I collapsed at the mercy of this woman and the memories she cursed me with. I couldn’t tell you how many times I wallowed in self pity, wishing she’d come back to me, but furious at myself that I was somehow still under her spell. I told myself she was a threat to my independence for so long, but instead I had been kidding myself, ignoring that I was actually just 
  
    happy. 
  
 
  
    Plain, simple, 
  
  
    happy. 
  
 
  I was 
  
    sad 
  
  to see the hard work we put into the relationship crumble. I was 
  
    sad 
  
  that one of the best contributors to my happiness suddenly disappeared. She had 
  
    never 
  
  had a collar and chains on me and my heart, though I wanted to believe so as to make it more pressing that I forget. And sure, maybe partially it was true in the beginning as I learned more and more what it meant to be in a healthy relationship. But Caitlyn was smart, she was responsible, realistic, kind, and she understood me. I p@ss@d her off so many times, and yet she willingly spent her days to help me when I needed it most. Did I accept it right away? Absolutely not. 
  
    But Caitlyn waited.
  
   She waited for me to learn what it meant to have support. Love and support in a way only she could provide. 
 
  Could I have gotten to that point with another person? Perhaps. Probably. 
 
  But I just 
  
    really 
  
  didn’t want to. 
 
  I could find someone with dark hair, an accent, and a gap in her teeth, but they would never be Caitlyn Kiramman.
  
     Never.
  
   Not the one I knew, the one I had made all those memories with, that I was sure I wasn’t done making memories with yet. 
 
  Kidding myself the whole way to London, I must’ve looked like a fool to my sister. But when don’t I?
 
  I just wanted to see Caitlyn again.
  
     That’s it. 
  
  I didn’t want closure; I didn’t want to move on. I just wanted to 
  
    see 
  
  her, be in her orbit again, feel her presence around me. Pathetic maybe, but it was a simple, instinctual desire to be near her that I couldn’t refuse or argue with. To take whatever opportunity I could to appropriately be there. Just to see her smile, hear her laughter, watch how she moves, see how her eyes twinkle in the starlight. I just wanted more snapshots, more memories–
  
     selfish–
  
   and whether or not I would’ve been able to see her get married is a toss up. Had she not stopped the ceremony herself, would I have been able to sit through it? Watch her slip through my fingers in real time?
 
  I truly believe I will never know. 
 
  And none of it mattered anymore, not when she was sitting before me with ringless hands and tears once again brewing in her eyes. 
 
  
    Happy.
  
 
  That’s what she made me.
 
  And that’s what I wanted for her.
 
  
    I wanted to be the reason.
  
 
  Selfish. 
 
  But it’s there, and it’s real. 
 
  Eventually she summoned the energy to look at me, and I could already see the millions and millions of thoughts in that head of hers. Seeing text backwards in her eyes like she was reading and organizing her feelings at record speed. She was getting herself organized, prepared for the moments that were to come. 
 
  Again, for a short moment her mouth hung open as the syllables struggled, but in the end, she managed a quick, concise, wonderful, sentence. 
 
  “Vi… I… I should apologize.”
 
  I looked at her, blinked, and I suppose because I was so tired, I no longer cared to hear it. The apology I had been chasing for years, it no longer mattered to me. Not when I had a chance, not when I knew the Caitlyn I was so familiar with was finally sitting in front of me again. I could feel it, 
  
    sense it,
  
   see it in the dark recesses of her gaze.
 
  “I should apologize too, Caitlyn–”
 
  “Oh god, Vi,” her eyebrows arched upward, like she was in shocking pain, and her voice raised in pitch slightly. “For what?... 
  
    For what?”
  
 
  “Well,” I said, a little baffled she hadn’t wanted the same from me. “Well, I mean, I 
  
    definitely 
  
  could’ve handled the confrontation better–”
 
  “Please… 
  
    Vi, please,”
  
   she cut me off.
  
     “It’s okay.
  
   It really is. I understand. But… what I did… you deserve at least 
  
    some 
  
  explanation… and a real, 
  
    proper 
  
  apology. Please. 
  
    Just…
  
   let me get it out…”
 
  To that I took a beat to process but then nodded. 
 
  Sitting on the floor, her on her knees, she turned to face me completely. I followed suit, shifting around so I could face her more directly, all my attention on her, happy to comply once hearing the pure desperation and sincerity in her words. Her pink cheeks still had tear streaks on them, as she never bothered to wipe them away. Her makeup had run, and yet she didn’t care when her eyes started to well up with emotion once again. Just looking at me, taking my hands in hers. I could feel she was trembling, exhausted, but with plenty of grief and guilt still left to flush from her system that night.
 
  “Vi, I… I still don’t know why I did what I did…” she started, and peacefully I watched her so closely. Even when she broke eye contact to look between us or around the room, my gaze never faltered. “There’s no good excuse, no 
  
    good 
  
  explanation really…”
 
  She sniffed, sucked in a breath, then let out a shaky exhale. 
 
  “I’ve spent all those years trying to figure it out, trying to crack the code of my demented reasoning… I asked Jayce when he came to visit me, I asked my therapist when I was finally worn down enough to go… and I could tell everyone wanted to sympathize with me, but they also knew I did you so, absolutely, positively wrong… That they knew they were only hearing one side of a broken story…
 
  “They’d say it’s okay, that we make mistakes… that humans are allowed to be imperfect, and that the world always learns how to heal and move on. But… I was never satisfied with that answer. It felt… incomplete to me. I couldn’t–” she paused to find the right path of words. “I couldn’t really… wrap my head around my own actions, my own words. It was like I was a completely different person. I mean… there I was, 
  
    shouting 
  
  at the woman I loved, almost as if I wanted to blame 
  
    her 
  
  for 
  
    my 
  
  childish mistakes.
 
  “You never did anything wrong, Vi… I 
  
    never 
  
  wanted to hide you… I was 
  
    never 
  
  ashamed of you, or thought you deserved it. I 
  
    never 
  
  thought you’d ruin anything or embarrass me somehow… and I just– I just, I never guessed you’d go to see them on your own; I was so surprised when you…”
 
  Again, she trailed off to think for a moment.
 
  
    “I never should have hidden it.”
  
 
  Her words were becoming watery, hushed as her chin trembled, she looked at our hands, and teardrops started to fall on my knuckles before she wiped them away with her thumbs.
 
  “I 
  
    never 
  
  should have lied to you… I was... I was just so scared–”
 
  She got choked up, needing to take a breath, not looking me in the eye. I stayed still, I stayed silent, and I let her work through any and all thoughts and feelings she had. It was evident enough she wanted to do this herself. She wanted to correct her wrong, no special treatment or exceptions, no reassurance from me. 
  
    Not yet.
  
   Not until she was finished. I got the sense that this was something she had to do for herself, to prove something to herself, prove to me, to right the mistake from many years ago.
 
  “My parents' approval has meant everything to me for so long… Sometimes I forget that even if they hate what I’m doing– it’s still 
  
    my 
  
  life… and I should’ve just told them. Told them I was happy and– and I had a 
  
    wonderful 
  
  woman in my life who loved me, and I wanted to build a life with–”
 
  Her voice started to get affected by a stuffy nose, and I reached on the coffee table to sn@tch her tissue box I saw perfectly placed in the center. I sat it next to her, just in case.
 
  “But I wanted them to like you
  
     so badly,
  
   I wanted them to 
  
    approve,
  
   I wanted them to be 
  
    happy 
  
  for me– I– I wanted…” desperately she took a gasping breath. “I wanted to be a family, a 
  
    proper 
  
  family, who’d pose for pictures an’ get into little spats at the dinner table…
 
  “Most of all though,” she continued, taking a tissue to wipe her nose. “I mostly didn’t want to put you through that hurt… I didn’t want to see the look in your eyes when they yelled, when they’d inevitably explode… I didn’t want you to be scared of more judgment by them… I knew– you– you already felt badly anytime we’d go for dinner and– an’ I wanted to 
  
    protect you
  
   from that–”
 
  I stopped her gently by smoothing a hand against her cheek, cupping her face. Her eyes remained down, but she let out a shuddered gasp at the contact, and one of her own hands immediately followed, coming to rest on top of mine. She squeezed so my palm was completely flush with her face, and she leaned into it as the sobs started to wrack out of her body with less and less control. 
 
  “I– I’m so– 
  
    God, Vi,
  
   I’m 
  
    so… sorry–!”
  
 
  Caitlyn nearly clued the neighbors in with her final confession, and I pulled her forward slightly to collapse her head on my shoulder. Resting my own cheek on top of her hair, I closed my eyes and shifted the hand from her face to thread into her raven locks. Over and over again I combed through her hair, for her, but also for myself, as I had selfishly missed doing that small little act of affection.
 
  “I– I didn’t even–” her voice was muffled in my shirt, it already growing damp as she clung onto my arms and her body grew heavy. “I didn’t even say 
  
    goodbye–!”
  
 
  Quietly, oh so quietly, I shushed her cries.
 
  “How
  
     bl@@dy heartless–!”
  
 
  “
  
    Shhh
  
  ,” I urged, gently, but with a squeeze from my arm partially wrapped around her shaking body. “Caitlyn…”
 
  My words drifted from my mouth so naturally, without conscious command, and yet with the full weight of my heart. As I felt her against me and saw her weep, felt her words sink into my skin, and the years apart fall from both our shoulders, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. This pressure in my chest, the one that had made it hard to breathe for five long years, started to alleviate. I could sense myself falling back into my proper place, like a jigsaw puzzle finally complete. My words were all I wanted to say, anything every cell could think, and nothing else mattered. 
 
  
    Nothing at all.
  

  
  

  
    “I forgive you.”
  

  
  

  .
 
  Caitlyn eventually embraced me completely, and I returned the hug wholeheartedly. It was tight, but so warm, so safe, so perfect, so right. I couldn’t tell you how long it was before she needed to pull away to wipe her nose. I helped rub away some tears with my thumb, taking time to tuck her hair back. She asked me how I could ever forgive her, but I said it was easy. I couldn’t explain it, other than the fact that everything inside of me just said…
 
  
    Yes… do it.
  
   
 
  I am madly in love with Caitlyn Kiramman, and no matter how good or bad her apology was, I fear I would’ve forgiven her no matter what. Somehow my soul is bound to hers, however, I have no complaints in my mind whatsoever.
 
  She is my love. She is my world. She is my… 
  
    everything. 
  
 
  Caitlyn turned me into a romantic who believed in silly love songs and understood cheesy rom coms. She made me daydream about things I used to scoff at, things I used to deny were for me. She made me feel things I thought people made up and cared for me like I never knew you could be cared for. 
 
  I was so completely hers, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. 
 
  We sat in comfortable silence for a bit, my own tears of relief drawing to the surface as I slowly and fully processed what had just happened. I chuckled wetly at myself, and Caitlyn followed suit, sniffing again as she hurriedly wiped at my face exclaiming
  
     “We can’t have you crying too! Then we’ll both be such a mess!” 
  
  without any seriousness in her tone whatsoever. She cradled both sides of my face in her soft hands, and it was my turn to lean into the warmth of it. I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to remind myself that this was 
  
    real
  
  . This was no dream, no hallucination. I had braved the storm and came out the other side stronger for it.
 
  The drama, the pain, the torment, it was all 
  
    over.
  
 
  And the release of pressure on my chest made it seem like it was my first time breathing, like I could see color again, and hear the beauty in music once more. 
 
  We leaned into each other, content in each other's arms as this time Caitlyn took her time to run her fingers through 
  
    my 
  
  unruly hair. I could feel her heartbeat, hear the air in her lungs, and her nails scratch along my scalp just like they used to. And in those peaceful moments of just… 
  
    being… 
  
  something urging the truth out of my body washed over me without any chance to react. All my muscles and reflexes had relaxed, knowing I could be that here. It was involuntary, yet it was also something I was going to tell her anyway.
 
  
    “I was gonna propose...”
  
 
  With that she stopped, obviously startled, and I tried not to smile when her meek little voice let out a noise akin to the word
  
     ‘what’
  
   and nothing else. I sat up, looking her in the eye, our faces now dry, but evidence still clearly there. But it didn’t matter. I had something to say.
 
  “The day I went to see your parents,” I started, forcing myself to maintain eye contact with those oceans of blue. Those shocked, star struck, endless pools of aquamarine. “I went to ask them permission to ask you to marry me.”
 
  I paused, took her hand in mine again, and when she said nothing else (clearly absorbing the information), I continued.
 
  “I had gone over there in the nicest clothes I owned, unannounced, with my bank records and references in a folder. I was determined to show them I could make you happy, that I was worthy enough of coming into the Kiramman family– that I would do everything in my power to make them proud to have me as their daughter-in-law... I– I know how important family is to you, Cait…” a wry grin briefly flashed on my face at that ironic understatement. “And I guess I just wanted to… I wanted to propose to you in a way where that worry would have already been taken care of. Where I handled a stressor for you and proved myself to you.”
 
  I paused briefly, a sense of apprehension taking over my body, but I shook it off as quickly as it had arisen.
 
  “Because… because I wanted you to take the job, and I wanted to move here 
  
    with 
  
  you… as not just your girlfriend, but your wife.” 
 
  She blinked at me, silence stretching on and I scoffed, clearly at myself so that it wouldn’t linger. 
 
  “I bought a ring and everything,” I looked down, shaking my head. “I 
  
    totally 
  
  jumped the gun. I clearly had no idea what I was getting into…”
 
  Caitlyn swallowed, trying to speak but clearly having difficulty with her dry throat. But she found her voice soon enough.
 
  “So that’s why…”
 
  “Yeah,” I confirmed to her mouse-like voice before she could finish. 
  
    “God,
  
   I should’ve just outright asked you. Why did I feel the need to get all proper and grandiose about it?”
 
  Again, I paused, but this time to ponder on my own question, now my own gaze dissociating and phasing out as I searched the deepest part of my brain. When I spoke next, it was softer, shyer, and almost like I was speaking to myself. Self consciousness had begun to take root, and I hardly recognized it as I fell into it maybe a little too easily. My emotional defenses were worn out and exhausted, their guard dropping a little bit. 
 
  
    “Well… Maybe…
  
   I dunno maybe… because you 
  
    deserve 
  
  grandiose…”
 
  “
  
    Violet
  
  ,” Caitlyn said, snapping my head upward to demurely meet her eyes once more. Fresh tears were brewing again on her waterline, but these were different. 
  
    Yes
  
  , these weren’t ones of regret and shame, these were ones of surprise and joy. A beautiful blush that had already tinted her cheeks from the crying spread to her ears, this time in bashfulness. She looked so vulnerable, so emotional, so… 
  
    real
  
  . And it was one of the most 
  
    stunning 
  
  views I’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. Knowing that she could be so naked in front of me, and vice versa, was the most freeing feeling in the world. 
 
  
    “Oh, Violet…”
  
   she said my name again, my 
  
    full 
  
  name, and I merely melted. I hadn’t heard her say my name like that in years, with so much 
  
    love,
  
   and until then, it was something I needed to hear so badly and had no idea how much for so long. “We are 
  
    quite 
  
  a pair… aren’t we?”
 
  “Yeah…” my voice was breathy but overjoyed as I agreed. 
  
    “Yeah
  
  …
  
     we really are…”
  
 
  .
 
  She was just standing there in her satin nightgown, the sunset just behind us and barely lighting up the horizon line. Her kitchen window revealed little of the sky, but I didn’t care about the sights it held. Merely the way the newborn moonlight fell upon her cheekbones, as if sculpted by a fine French artist. Her long legs were just as soft and milky as they always looked, an unfair advantage she had against me in this whirlwind of emotions I had going on in my head. Controlling myself after all these whispers shared, touches experienced, hearts bared, was like holding a tidal wave away from shore. When I approached her in that kitchen, it took every bit of me to not wrap my arms around her waist. 
 
  Just because she had confessed, apologized, still didn’t make her mine. 
 
  She was preparing hot chocolate, a la the way she used to make us coffee, heating up water in her fancy machine. Caitlyn took mugs from the cupboard, setting two down as she poured the powder in. It was as I neared that I recognized one of the mugs. The rabbit mug. Her favorite. She still had it.
 
  “I figured some drinks before we start would be nice,” she smiled at me once feeling me approach. “I have water too, if you like, in the fridge.”
 
  Dumbly, I nodded, unable to conjure up the words just yet. So, as she pulled out two more glasses, I filled them with the Brita she had stowed away in said fridge. Caitlyn asked me to get the milk while I was at it, and we worked together in a brief synergy that made me envy our old life once again, trying not to get too comfortable, but my heart hopeful more so in that moment than it ever had been. For what our future might entail, what it might bring. 
 
  We soon settled back on the floor in front of her coffee table, our drinks taking places accordingly, before Caitlyn twisted around to dig in one of the side tables nearby. It was a solid piece of wood with a little door on its front, wherein hid Caitlyn’s many smoking materials and accoutrement. She grabbed a few items, those of which being a small cup of cones, a grinder, and a tray.
 
  “Now… When exactly did you get into weed? I don’t exactly remember doing a bunch of that stuff back in our hay-day,” I asked, eyes clued in on her hands and how they prepped everything with such grace and familiarity, nothing but genuine curiosity in my voice.
 
  Caitlyn spared me a glance and a timid smile as she unscrewed the cap of her grinder, revealing perfectly fine weed she began to scoop into one of the cone openings. “Victoria showed me,” she said, a little bit of shy coyness in her tone, one I knew all too well that I could tease.
 
  “Really?” I said, dragging the word out slightly, shifting to look back at her stunning expression as she zeroed in with absolute concentration so as to not spill any valuable contents. 
 
  “Yes, really,” she rolled her eyes so quickly I almost missed it. “She noticed I was rather…” she paused, hesitant. “Stressed… and she didn’t like me going to the bar alone, but she didn’t love going to the bar herself so…” 
 
  “Huh,” understanding colored my simple expression back, less invested in her words and more so in the way her fingers twisted the tip of the finished joint. “You don’t mind the smell?”
 
  “Not particularly,” she shrugged, getting up, but only momentarily to open a nearby window. “I always open a window and air the place out pretty good, so it doesn’t linger.” 
 
  Humming, I watched her sit back down, her raven hair swishing from side to side as she brushed it over one shoulder and ran her fingers through it like it ever had knots. Before she spoke again, she offered the joint and lighter to me first, a silent offering and polite little reflection of the properness she was taught growing up.
 
  Always offer for your guest to go first.
 
  “And you?” Cait asked me, eyeing me closely as I pursed the joint between my lips. I spoke around it as I responded.
 
  “Powder, if you can believe it,” we smiled knowingly at one another. “After rehab she encouraged me to get a medical card and introduced me to it as a way to help with my bad days when working out didn’t help like it normally did.”
 
  “Aren’t you worried about your lungs?” she asked, before clearing her throat. “As an athlete, I mean, smoking can obviously affect your breathing.”
 
  “I don’t smoke that often, honestly,” when Caitlyn was speaking, I took that moment to light it up and inhale, taking the tiniest little drag. It supported my statement that I wasn’t a frequent smoker, as I knew my tolerance wasn’t exactly high. As I continued to speak, I passed it to her, and she took a noticeably longer breath. “It was mostly just for adjusting back home when I got back. I got the medical card mostly for Powder… so we could get clean stuff from the dispensary instead of the street.”
 
  Caitlyn hummed in mass approval, her eyes widening in a way that told me she really valued and agreed with what I had to say. It didn’t take a genius to know that where you sourced your drugs these days was more important than ever. She let the smoke drift from her mouth freely when she passed the joint back over to me. I took it back and tried not to focus on how my fingers burned after hers brushed mine. 
 
  Comfortable silence settled in around us, floating in the air along with the smoke we kept passing back and forth. Our worlds started to melt inward and together, personal space starting to be forgotten as we leaned further and further in any direction we accidentally leant too far into. Eventually we were leaning far into each other's space, each propping ourselves up with a locked arm. My head was tilted downward and near her shoulder, and her hair would occasionally fall over her own face and tickle my forehead. 
 
  After some time, after time itself started to fade from existence, Caitlyn started giggling to herself. Curious, but allowing myself to match the energy, I grinned and picked up my head enough to see her expression.
 
  “What?” I asked, restraining a giggle myself. But she couldn’t get the words out right away, so impatiently that laugh bubbled upward and I asked once again with more emphasis:
  
     “What??”
  
 
  She gasped a little for breath, letting her little fit continue on between words. “Nothing, nothing,” she waved her hand in front of her face, stopping when I reached up to hand her the much smaller joint we just left burning mostly, ash in our laps from when we forgot to ash it ourselves in the tray. “It’s just–” another giggle cut her off, but she tried to push through it. “It’s just that– today–”
 
  “Yeah?” I encouraged her as her laughter kept picking up and up and up. 
 
  “Today went the
  
     exact opposite
  
   I expected it to,” she chuckled, a genuineness lacing her words like she was watching the most hilarious comedy show. Like it was truly
  
     ridiculous. 
  
 
  I snorted, and turned my eyes downcast, almost missing when she handed the joint back and coughed through the smoke when she still couldn’t help but giggle at herself. I sucked in another inhale of the drug, letting it affect me wholeheartedly as I closed my eyes and felt my center of gravity spin. 
 
  
    “Yeah,”
  
   softly, I agreed, speaking more to myself than anything. “Me neither.”

   

  It was odd. This morning started with a false start from my sister and a hangover from my previous night of a new personal low. But it progressed with more tears, both sad and happy, and was now ending with smoking weed with my ex I was still smitten by. I questioned only then if it was wise to get high the night after I relapsed from being several years sober, but when Caitlyn’s bare shoulder brushed mine, the thought disappeared entirely. 
 
  I was more worried about my obvious addiction to the woman beside me, and what she intended our shared future to look like, if she even wanted to share it in the first place. 
 
  “Hey…” I started, this train of thought starting to carry over into the real world outside my brain. “What… is this?”
 
  She openly laughed at me as she snatched up the dying joint I offered up.
 
  “It’s 
  
    weed,
  
   Vi. Has it gone to your head already?”
 
  “No, no,” I shook my head, it swirling pleasantly in a way that made me feel like I weighed less. “I mean,” gesturing between the two of us, I watched Caitlyn track the movement and realization hit her. “This?”
 
  “You and… me?” she confirmed, and nervously, I nodded. 
 
  Caitlyn watched the movement; her eyes having opened quite a bit more. A significant task for a girl who was getting progressively more and more high. She took one final hit of the joint and snubbed it on the tray resting on the coffee table. Letting her gaze fall and the smoke peacefully wander from her lips to the air, she drew her legs to her chest, wrapping them up in her arms as if to hug them. 
 
  All of a sudden, she looked rather… 
  
    insecure. 
  
 
  “Well… I thought it was all… rather obvious, actually…”
 
  Not wanting to startle her further, push her farther into the hole of self-doubt she seemed to be in now, and disliking this sudden change in energy (though I suppose it was indeed me that changed the subject), I tried my best to let my words be kind and considerate, treading carefully. 
 
  “Not really,” I matched her tone, shrinking into myself but simultaneously trying to catch her eye. “You almost got 
  
    married 
  
  today, Cait. Then comforted me, apologized, and got high with me… I know I’m not 
  
    great 
  
  at picking up signals but I just…”
 
  She looked at me, and my breath got shorter, entranced no matter what she did when she looked at me like that.
 
  “I think I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me…”
 
  Caitlyn stayed eerily silent after that, in a way that got me thinking I maybe said something wrong, and she was debating on whether or not she wanted to kick me out. But the drug swarming around in my mind was just trying to prey on my already quickly forming anxieties, as it can. However, as always, with one simple action, Caitlyn was able to quell all worries instantaneously. 
 
  She reached across the very short distance between us, letting go of her legs and relaxing them against the ground again. She leaned forward, at first with that doubt, but quickly she tried to boost herself up again, so as to allow her hand to comfortably rest against my face again, like it had several times that night. But no matter the frequency, it never failed to make the hairs on my arms stand up and goosebumps to cover my skin. It was electrifying, definitely something I’d fantasized about feeling again so many times. And now that it was here, real, I was going to savor every moment. I didn’t hesitate to lean into it, but I didn’t dare close my eyes as I watched Caitlyn steadily get nearer. Each faint mole, slight perfect imperfection, individual strands of hair, came better into focus, until I could feel her breath against my skin. She sharply inhaled as my eyes flicked down and around her face, gathering every single detail I could to store away in my memory. But when she exhaled softly in a slight sigh, she commanded eye contact again, of which I gave her. Albeit only briefly before it dawned on me what was happening and my heart drowned out all sound in my ears with the ferocity of its beating. I didn’t even have time to think before I felt that familiar press of her smooth lips against my chapped ones. Short and chaste, followed up with an even shorter second one, before I could breathe again. It escaped me when my eyes opened again, and I knew I was exactly where I wanted to be. Forehead against forehead, her thumb stroking over where a tattoo was slowly fading into my cheek, and her hair tickling my nose. 
 
  “I’ve missed you so, 
  
    so much,
  
   Violet,” she whispered, her own eyes closed like she needed to concentrate. “And I’ve wanted 
  
    nothing 
  
  more than to be back with you since the moment I saw you… 
  
    Never 
  
  before had the weight of my actions so completely destroyed me, but also woke me up to finally go out and ask for a second chance…”
 
  She opened her eyes, a sky looking back at me with the familiar sight of one more lonely tear breeching over her waterline.
 
  “I want to get to know you again… I want to be your friend again… I want to learn how you’ve changed, how you’ve stayed the same, what you’ve been up to… I want to start over… and I want to do it 
  
    right.”
  
 
  Speechless, I had nothing to say, my mind white noise and static, and she smiled at my shocked silence. Caitlyn merely held me, and I didn’t move away. Not in a
  
     million years
  
   would I stray from that warmth, not when I had only just found it again. My own mouth hung open akin to hers earlier in the night when nothing could be vocalized just yet, and she just watched me. 
 
  “Friends first, get to know each other, from the very beginning, to see if we’d even be compatible anymore…” a lilt of sadness laced those last words, and similarly they brought a slight frown to my expression and a wrinkle to my brow. Her thumb found it though, and like she had a million times before, she smoothed it away. “And 
  
    if we are…
  
   I’ll ask 
  
    you 
  
  out first this time…”
 
  And suddenly I grinned, unabashedly, without shame or fear, and a bubble of an excited laugh came up my throat without my permission. But I didn’t even care. It heaved me forward in a sense of relief and a breath I didn’t know I was still holding. She mirrored me, a smile gracing her cheeks that I wanted to stay there forever.
 
  
    “Yeah,”
  
   my response sounded tearful, watery, despite my own face now being dry. It felt truly impossible to cry further, just physically, like the tap was out. But my tone said it all for me where my tear ducts could not. “Yeah, I’d… I’d really like that.”
 
  
    A chance to start over. 
  
 
  
    To start fresh.
  
 
  
    To test the waters.
  
 
  
    To get my best friend back.
  
 
  
    To make new memories…
  
 
  “I’m so f@ck@n’ glad,” Caitlyn sighed deeply in relief, and I just couldn’t help myself but let my laughter loose. 
 
  
    “Caitlyn,”
  
   I falsely scolded. “Language,
  
     my god.”
  
 
  “Oh, 
  
    shut up,”
  
   she swatted me, her gap tooth on proud display, and I forgot myself. Despite what we had just told one another, words with the promise of a new friendship, I couldn’t help myself but take a hold of the back of her neck and gently kiss her again. Like I had wanted for so many years. 
 
  I was pleasantly surprised to hear her happily hum into it and greet me with a still beaming expression when we parted. She stayed close, and I was glad for it, not quite ready to give her up to the distance quite yet.
 
  “Starting tomorrow,” she said. “New chance, friendship 
  
    only
  
  , friendship only
  
     boundaries… I promise.”
  
 
  I nodded, willing to agree to anything in that moment if it meant it could stay right where I was. She could get me to shave my head if she asked, honestly. But she merely made my heart sing when I felt an arm comfortable perch on my shoulder and her forehead meet mine again where it had parted briefly. 
 
  “Starting tomorrow,” she repeated, then caught me in eye contact again.
  
     “But… tonight?”
  
 
  Caitlyn’s question lingered in the air as she stayed still. Close, but still, hands now steady in stark contrast to how the evening began. The stench of weed reeked off us both but provided a weird clarity to everything we had been saying to one another. Perhaps it was the confidence to actually speak our minds, the drug being a welcome aid to dispersing our troubled minds. However, it additionally took an embarrassingly long time to catch up and understand she was waiting for me to answer her.
 
  “Oh,” I breathed. “I… are you sure? I mean, you did almost marry–”
 
  
    “I know,”
  
   quietly, she cut me off. “And it’s selfish of me to ask but… really, I want 
  
    nothing 
  
  more than to be with the person I’ve been missing from afar like a 
  
    d@mn, idiotic
  
   protagonist in those romance novels my mother reads.”
 
  My lips quirked back into a slight grin at the humor in her words, and how much I really related. I bit my lip, taking a moment to think, though I knew I had already made up my mind. Truly, I was just attempting not to seem too eager to accept her invitation, warnings of impulsivity flashing in my mind. But I reasoned it away with the long-lost trust I still had buried in my chest for Cait. I knew when she swore something to me, she’d do everything in her power to see it to fruition.
 
  “Starting tomorrow,” I said, taking a second to look at our laps before locking my gaze with hers once again. “Promise?”
 
  Utter genuine emotion was written all over her face, and I felt her nod slightly by the rubbing against my own forehead. 
 
  “Cross my heart,” she responded, her final word coming out against my mouth as her lips brushed my own again. 
  
    “Tomorrow.”
  

  
  

    
      
        
        
          one more to go gang! perhaps two? probably two knowing how i like to space things outthanks again so much for all the love anyone of yall have given me it really just means a lot its kinda insane :,> i hope i made yall proud and met your expectations cause lets be real i was NERVOUS to post last chapter but yknow i had to post it eventually right lollots of love !!!!!!!!! <3'
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