The fight

When they stepped inside, Myle came running the second she saw them, her tail wagging so hard that her whole body wiggled with excitement. She let out a happy bark, circling their legs, clearly torn between which one of them to greet first.

Viv barely had time to take off her jacket before she sat down on the floor, leaning back against the couch, waiting for Myle to climb into her lap like she always did. But tonight, the dog hesitated for just a second before bouncing toward Beth instead.

Beth let out a small laugh as Myle practically leaped onto her, pressing against her legs, paws nudging at her insistently. “Alright, alright,” Beth muttered, shaking her head as she lowered herself onto the floor. sat too, not far, her legs stretched out in the direction of the couch, hands resting loosely in her lap. Myle, after bouncing around both of them for a moment, finally plopped herself onto Beth’s legs, curling into her like it was routine.

Beth scratched behind Myle’s ears before glancing at Viv. “Go to mummy,” she said softly, pointing toward Viv.

Viv watched with a faint smile, her voice quiet. “She likes you more.”

Beth looked over at her, shaking her head a little. “No, she just sees me more.” Her voice stayed soft, careful. “She loves us both the same.”

Viv didn’t say anything right away. She just gave a slow nod, brushing her fingers along the edge of her knee.

Beth leaned down a bit, tapping Myle’s back. “Go on, baby. Go see her.”

Myle gave a little stretch, then stood up and trotted over to Viv, climbing into her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Viv smiled faintly, her hands immediately going to Myle’s fur, stroking gently as the dog curled against her.

Beth stayed quiet, just watching from the corner of her eye. Viv’s head dipped slightly as she rested her chin against Myle’s side, and Beth looked away, giving her the space.

No words were said. But the silence between them, for once, didn’t feel so heavy.

After a few quiet minutes, with nothing but Myle’s soft tail thumping against the rug and the low hum of the street outside, Beth shifted slightly and glanced at Viv. She was still on the floor, legs crossed, her whole body curled gently around Myle, who had fully claimed her lap now.

Viv was stroking behind Myle’s ears with slow, absentminded fingers, her voice soft, almost like she was talking to herself. “You missed me, huh?” she murmured. “You’re such a good girl. You remember everything, don’t you?”

Beth watched her quietly, the way Viv’s thumb kept circling over the same spot on Myle’s fur, the way her eyes softened the longer she sat there.

Beth cleared her throat, not too loud. “Hey… do you want some tea?”

Viv looked up, her eyes a little tired but warmer than before. She nodded, just a small tilt of her head. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “That’d be nice.”

Beth nodded back, then stood and padded into the kitchen. She took her time, not wanting to rush the quiet between them. She grabbed the tea she knew Viv liked—the calming one, the one she used to make her when her knee was acting up or when she couldn’t sleep. As the water boiled, she peeked around the corner.

Viv was still on the floor, now gently nudging Myle’s paw with her fingers and whispering something in Dutch that Beth couldn’t quite catch. Myle let out a pleased little groan and rolled to her side, pressing closer.

Beth felt her chest ache, in that small, familiar way that only happened when she loved someone so much it physically pressed against her ribs.

She carried the mug carefully, walking over and kneeling beside Viv.

“Here,” she said softly.

Viv looked up again, her eyes meeting Beth’s just for a second before she took the mug carefully from her hands.

“Thank you,” she said, and her voice was so gentle it almost made Beth crumble.

Viv didn’t drink it right away. She just set it down beside her on the floor and turned back to Myle, her hand finding her fur again, slow and calming. Beth sat back down across from her, watching quietly.

Beth sat there, cross-legged on the floor, picking lightly at a thread on the edge of her sweatshirt. She kept glancing at Viv, who hadn’t looked at her again since the tea. Myle was still curled in her lap, her breathing slow and steady, and Viv's hand kept moving through her fur with this absent, steady rhythm.

Beth chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then finally spoke, barely above a whisper. “I was… um… thinking I could put the kitchen back the way it was.”

Viv didn’t react—not right away.

Beth cleared her throat quietly. “I mean, I don’t know if I remember everything exactly, but… I’ll try. And if you see something that’s not in the right place, you can just… move it. Or tell me.”

Still, Viv stayed quiet, eyes on Myle.

Beth’s voice got even softer. “And the curtains—I can take them down. Return them. And maybe…” she hesitated, correcting herself quickly, “maybe you can choose some you like more.”

Nothing from Viv. Just a little blink, her eyes still on the floor.

Beth nodded slowly, her throat tightening. She looked down, twisting her fingers together. “If you want me to go… I get it.”

Viv’s hand stilled on Myle.

Beth tried again, her voice shaky. “Like, if you need space, or time, or just… if me being here makes things harder—”

Viv turned her head slightly, finally speaking. “Go where?”

Beth looked at her, surprised. “Just… away,” she said quietly.

Viv blinked, confused. “Away where?”

Beth hesitated. She hated saying it out loud. “To move out.”

Viv finally looked at her, really looked at her, and Beth’s breath caught. Her voice cracked just a little. “I just thought after everything I said, after how I acted… that you'd want me gone.”

Viv shook her head, slow and small. “I don’t want you to move out.”

Beth’s eyes burned. “You don’t?”

Viv looked back down at Myle, still gently petting her. “No. This is… it’s our house.”

Beth exhaled softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought I ruined that. I thought you’d never want to look at me again after yesterday.” She blinked hard, her voice cracking more now. “I’m so sorry, Viv. For everything. For yelling. For—” she swallowed, “—for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just… I was scared. And I took it out on you.”

Viv didn’t say anything, but Beth could see her jaw move slightly, like she was holding something in.

Beth leaned back just a little, her voice shaky. “I never wanted to hurt you. I hope you know that.”

Viv gave a small nod. Her fingers never stopped moving through Myle’s fur.

Viv was quiet for a while, still sitting on the floor, Myle tucked into her lap like an anchor. Her hand moved slowly through the dog’s fur, rhythmic and absent, but Beth could tell her mind was somewhere far away.

Then, barely above a whisper, Viv spoke. “I’m sorry.”

Beth looked at her immediately, lips parting. Viv still wasn’t looking at her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my knee,” she said softly, her accent thicker when she was like this—tired, overwhelmed. “I should have. I know that.”

Beth stayed silent, just listening.

Viv’s voice wavered. “And I’m sorry I didn’t talk during the fight. I know you hate that.” She let out a shaky breath, fingers twitching slightly where they rested on Myle’s side. “I just—when you started yelling, I felt like everything I tried to say made it worse. And I didn’t know how to… fix it. Every time I opened my mouth, it felt like I was making you angrier. So I just… shut down.”

Beth blinked, her eyes already stinging again.

Viv shook her head a little, still not looking up. “I wanted it to stop. You were so mad, and I couldn’t—I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make it worse.”

Beth finally moved closer, not touching her, but closer. Her voice was cracked and small. “Don’t apologize.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. “You did nothing wrong, Vivi. Nothing. Please believe that.”

Viv finally looked at her. Just for a second.

Beth’s voice broke again. “I’m sorry. For yelling. For saying those things. I didn’t mean any of it. I was scared and angry and—God—I just let it all come out in the worst way.”

She shook her head. “And I’m sorry that Steph had to be the one to stop it. That you were already crying and I didn’t even notice until she said something.”

She took a breath and kept going, more hesitant now. “I keep replaying the whole thing in my head. The way you looked. How Myle ran to you. How Steph was the one grounding you while I was the one breaking things.” Her voice cracked. “I hate that I became someone you had to step away from. Someone who made you feel unsafe, even if just for a second.”

Viv’s eyes filled again, but she didn’t look away this time.

Beth gave her a moment before adding, “I should have been the one to calm you down. Not the one you needed space from. I hate that I hurt you. And if I could take every word back, I would. A thousand times over.”

There was silence for a beat, just Myle’s quiet breathing and the weight of everything unsaid finally finding its way out.

Viv didn’t say much after that. But she leaned down a little, kissing the top of Myle’s head, and her eyes—red and tired—held Beth’s for a second longer than before.

They sat there for a little while longer, the quiet more bearable now—not fixed, not fully comfortable, but softer somehow. Myle shifted in Viv’s lap, curling even closer, and Viv's fingers resumed their gentle rhythm through her fur.

Then, quietly, Viv said, “You played really well today.”

Beth blinked, surprised, and turned to her. “You watched it?”

Viv nodded, still looking down at Myle. “Yeah. I wasn’t going to. But then I… I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.” She glanced at Beth briefly. “You were sharp. That pass for Katie’s goal—so quick. I don’t know how you even saw that angle.”

Beth smiled, her chest aching just a little. “Thanks,” she said softly.

Viv gave a small shrug, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Maybe next time I’ll go to the stadium.”

Beth looked at her gently. “You don’t have to. I know it’s hard. Being there.”

Viv paused. Then she said, a little firmer, “It would be for you. Not for them.”

Beth couldn’t help it—her smile grew, and this time, it reached her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered.

They sat in the quiet again, Beth reaching down to scratch behind Myle’s ear.

After a moment, she asked carefully, “When do you need to go back?”

Viv exhaled, long and slow, like just the question drained something from her. “In three weeks,” she said. “The surgery’s in two.”

Beth nodded slowly. “You’ll stay here until then?”

Viv nodded once. “Yeah. They want me resting as much as possible.”

There was another pause, heavier this time.

Beth hesitated, then asked gently, “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Viv leaned her head back against the couch, eyes closing for a moment as she let out a breath that sounded bone-deep tired. “It’s still not good,” she said quietly. “They need to clean it up again. The same place as last time.” She opened her eyes but kept them unfocused, staring ahead. “I can feel it when I try to move sharp, or twist. It just… it gives out a little. Like it’s holding on by threads.”

Beth’s heart twisted. “I’m sorry, love.”

Viv looked down, quiet for a second. Then she whispered, “Maybe Arsenal was right.”

Beth frowned. “What?”

Viv’s voice cracked, her tone bitter. “Maybe I won’t play like before. Or even… at all.”

Beth sat up straighter, instantly shaking her head. “No. Don’t say that.” Her voice was soft but certain. “They were wrong. They gave up on you too soon. You’re still one of the smartest players I’ve ever seen. One of the best. That’s not gone.”

Viv didn’t answer right away, but after a long moment, she turned her head slightly, eyes meeting Beth’s for real this time.

There was a sadness there—but also something softer. Something grateful. And then, just barely, she smiled.

Beth noticed it, of course. The way Viv had gone quieter. The way her fingers fidgeted every so often, like her body was trying to speak for her. But Beth waited. She didn’t want to push—not after everything.

Still, after a few more minutes, Beth turned a little toward her and asked gently, “You okay?”

Viv blinked, like she hadn’t heard her at first. Then she nodded, too quickly. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… thinking.”

Beth gave her a soft look. “About?”

Viv’s fingers paused on Myle’s fur. Her lips parted for a second, then closed again. She took a breath like she was going to say something—then shook her head and gave a tiny shrug.

Beth stayed quiet, waiting.

Finally, Viv spoke, voice so low Beth almost didn’t catch it. “The jar,” she said. “I keep thinking about the jar.”

Beth’s heart dropped into her stomach. She sat up straighter. “Viv…”

Viv didn’t look at her, still focused on the floor. “I know it was just a stupid thing. A jar. It’s not like—” She stopped herself, closing her eyes for a moment. “I don’t even know why it… hit me like that.”

Beth felt her chest tighten, but she kept her voice soft. “Can I say something?”

Viv nodded.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I know I was angry but breaking something like that, especially right in front of you—it was wrong. I hate that it made you feel scared. I hate that I made you feel like that.”

Viv finally looked at her—just for a second. Her eyes were tired, red from earlier, but not crying now. Just full.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “It’s just…”

She paused again, searching for the right words and not quite finding them.

Beth stayed still, letting her take her time.

“I didn’t think something like that would… affect me. Not now. Not with you.” Viv shook her head gently. “It’s not you. It’s just… when you did that, I—my whole body just reacted. Like before I even knew what was happening. And I don’t—I don’t know what to do with that.”

Beth reached over, not to touch her yet, just to be closer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Viv didn’t answer right away. Her hand was back on Myle, fingers curling slowly through soft fur. She looked so small suddenly—tired and unsure.

“I haven’t felt like that in a long time,” she finally said. “But I used to. And when it happened yesterday, I just… froze. Like I used to.”

Beth’s heart broke a little more. “I’m so sorry.”

Viv nodded again, quick and quiet. “I know.”

Beth waited a beat, then asked softly, “Can I ask something?”

Viv didn’t look up, but she nodded once.

Beth hesitated. “Was it… was it with Lisa?”

Viv’s hand paused briefly on Myle’s back, and then she nodded again. “Yeah.”

Beth’s chest ached. She kept her voice soft, careful. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“It didn’t happen all the time. That’s the thing—it wasn’t constant. Just sometimes.” Her brows pulled together like she was trying to make sense of it even now. “And then more often. Especially toward the end.”

Beth’s voice was soft, careful. “When did it start?”

“It started in Germany,” she said, voice quiet, almost uncertain. “At Bayern.”

Beth stayed completely still, not wanting to break the fragile thread Viv was carefully unraveling.

“She didn’t like it there,” Viv continued. “Lisa, I mean. She was… unhappy, I think. With the city, the team, the weather—just everything.” She paused. “And I kept thinking it wasn’t about me. That she was just stressed or homesick or… something.”

Beth’s voice was soft. “You were really young.”

Viv nodded faintly. “Yeah. And I think I thought that was normal. That all couples had rough patches, especially when they were far from home. So when she got frustrated, when she snapped, I told myself it wasn’t about me. Or that I could fix it. That if I just did things differently, it would stop.”

Beth’s chest ached again, but she didn’t say anything yet. She just let Viv talk.

“It wasn’t constant,” Viv went on, a little more slowly now. “And that made it harder to notice. She could be really sweet, really good to me. But sometimes…” Her fingers twitched gently in Myle’s fur. “Sometimes it was like anything I did was wrong. If I was too quiet. If I didn’t seem excited enough about something. If I didn’t text her back fast enough.”

Beth frowned, but kept her tone gentle. “So it started there? In Munich?”

Viv nodded again. “The first time it felt really bad was there, yeah. But when we moved to Arsenal, it got better for a while. A lot better. Especially when we lived with Emma. I think maybe it helped—having someone else around.”

Beth hesitated before asking, “What changed?”

Viv finally glanced at her, just briefly, before looking away again. “Emma moved out. And suddenly it was like this… switch. At first, we were excited. New place, just us. But it didn’t take long for it to feel... different. Tense. Like anything could tip things over.”

Beth opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to ask too much, or push too far.

Beth kept her voice gentle. “What were the fights like? Back then… with her?”

Viv didn’t answer right away. Her eyes stayed fixed on her lap, fingers curled gently into Myle’s fur. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and careful, like she was still figuring out the words as she said them.

“In Munich… she’d mostly go quiet. That was her thing. She’d shut down. Just stop talking. For hours. Sometimes days.” She paused, her brows pulling together slightly. “And I’d spend that time going over everything I said. Everything I didn’t say. Trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

Beth’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t interrupt.

“There were a couple times she yelled,” Viv added after a beat, quieter now. “Not often. But it happened. Usually when something built up too much.”

Beth shifted a little closer without saying anything.

“When we lived with Emma,” Viv continued, “it was different. I guess because someone else was there. Lisa didn’t yell. Not in front of her. But she’d… say things. Just with words.” She gave a small, empty shrug. “It didn’t sound like much. But they stayed with me. She always knew exactly what to say to make me feel like I was the problem.”

Beth’s heart squeezed. “And when Emma left?”

Viv took a breath, long and uneven, her fingers tangled gently in Myle’s fur. “When Emma left, I really thought it was going to be good,” she said, her voice quiet. “Like—finally just us. In our place. The house we picked together. I was excited about it.”

Beth stayed still, watching her without interrupting.

Viv let out a shaky exhale. “And for a bit, it was. I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe. It felt like we were settling in. Like we were okay.”

“And it was. For a little while,” Viv continued, her voice softer. “But then… little things started again. Small stuff. She’d get annoyed if I bought the wrong kind of milk. Or if I forgot to turn off the lights when I left a room. She’d snap at me for leaving my phone sound on at night. Stuff like that.”

Viv shifted slightly, resting her back against the edge of the couch now. “At first it was bickering. Just… tension. You know? Snapping, rolling her eyes, saying things under her breath. But then she started yelling again. Not every day at first. But more and more. Over everything and nothing.”

Beth felt a knot forming in her throat.

“She’d slam doors. Drawers. Anything she could close loudly. She’d pace when she was angry—walking back and forth and muttering stuff under her breath like she was trying not to explode. But sometimes she did. And when she did, it was never just about that one thing. It was like she’d stored everything up and then let it out all at once.”

Viv rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, not crying but tired—so deeply, painfully tired. “She’d start with something like forgetting the milk and somehow end up yelling about how I never listened, or how I didn’t love her the way she needed me to, or how I was distant, cold, ungrateful. Like… everything about me was wrong.”

There was a pause before Viv continued, her voice just a thread. “Eventually it started to feel like almost every day there was something. A look, a comment, a fight waiting to happen. I stopped talking so much. I tried not to take up space. Just to keep the peace.”

Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Most of the time… it didn’t go past yelling. Or… slamming things. It was just noise.”

Beth’s voice came quietly. “But there were times it was more than that?”

Viv nodded, just once. “Yeah… not a lot. Just… once or twice, maybe.” She took a breath, but it was shaky. “I don’t think she meant to… not really. It just—sometimes things got carried away.”

Beth swallowed. “What happened?”

Viv rubbed her palms together. “The first time… it wasn’t—nothing big happened. Just…” Her voice trailed off and she took another breath. “She threw a mug. Across the kitchen. Not at me. Just—across the room. It shattered. She didn’t even say anything. Just kept yelling like nothing had happened.”

Beth’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t speak.

Viv shook her head a little. “It scared me. But she apologized after, and I—I told myself it didn’t count. That it wasn’t that bad.”

There was another pause, longer this time.

Viv was blinking fast now, her voice softer than before. “The worst time was… I think it was after the Everton game. Last season. We won, and everyone went out to celebrate.”

Beth nodded gently. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I didn’t want to go,” Viv admitted, her voice barely holding together. “I—I wasn’t feeling great. I had a headache, and I was just… tired. I told her that. That I just wanted to stay home.”

Beth’s heart was already sinking.

“She got upset,” Viv continued, still not looking at her. “Said I was being selfish. That I didn’t care about her. That I was always ruining things.”

Beth was silent, her throat too tight to speak.

“I ended up going. I thought if I just… showed up, it’d be fine.” Viv shrugged, almost helplessly. “But I didn’t really talk to anyone. I just sat there mostly. Smiled when I had to.”

“And when you got home?” Beth asked quietly.

“She was still mad,” Viv said, her voice wobbling a little. “Said I embarrassed her. That I made her look like she was dating someone who didn’t even want to be there. She kept going—kept saying I didn’t try, that I didn’t care how I made her look.”

Beth’s hands were clenched in her lap now, her body still except for the occasional breath.

“I didn’t want to fight,” Viv murmured. “I was tired. So I walked toward the bedroom.”

She hesitated. Her hand had stilled over Myle’s fur.

“She followed me,” Viv said, eyes focused on some point far away. “And then she grabbed my wrist. Tight. Told me not to walk away from her. Not to ignore her.”

Beth didn’t breathe.

“I tried to pull my arm back. I didn’t say anything. I just… I wanted to lie down. And she—” Viv stopped, blinking a few times. “She pushed me. Against the wall. The one near the bedroom.”

Beth’s voice cracked as it left her mouth, louder than she meant, “She pushed you?”

Viv flinched—visibly—and Beth’s hand came up instinctively, palm open like she wanted to take the words back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Viv flinched slightly and looked down, like she was expecting Beth’s reaction. “I think… she didn’t mean to. She let go right after. Said sorry, over and over. I went to the bedroom. She didn’t follow. We didn’t talk about it again.”

Beth swallowed hard. “Did anything like that ever happen again?”

Viv shook her head. “No. That was the only time. And I think she scared herself. But it changed something. In me. I started… waiting for something to happen. Every time she got frustrated, I’d flinch. Inside, at least.”

Viv went quiet again, but this time it was different. Her breath hitched, and her fingers curled a little tighter in Myle’s fur. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stared ahead like she wasn’t really seeing anything at all.

Beth stayed where she was, not wanting to overwhelm her. But when Viv’s shoulders gave the smallest, uneven shake, Beth’s heart cracked all over again.

“Hey,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. “Viv…” She hesitated. “Can I hug you?”

For a second, Viv didn’t respond. Then she nodded, slow and small—barely noticeable, but it was enough.

Beth moved immediately but gently, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around her, careful not to squeeze too tight. Viv leaned into her without saying a word, her face pressing into Beth’s shoulder, her whole body trembling now.

Beth held her. One hand on Viv’s back, the other cradling the back of her head as she whispered, “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Viv let out a soft, broken sound, and Beth just held her tighter.

“You didn’t deserve any of it,” Beth murmured, kissing the top of her head. “None of it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Viv didn’t speak, but the way she clung to Beth said enough. Her hands fisted lightly into Beth’s sweatshirt, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to hold on, but she couldn’t help it.

After a while, her breathing evened out a little—still shaky, still quiet, but calmer. She pulled back just enough to wipe at her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie.

Beth didn’t move far, still sitting close, watching her with gentle eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Viv mumbled. “For crying. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t be,” Beth said right away, soft but firm. “You don’t ever have to apologize for this. Not with me.”

Viv nodded, eyes still glassy, and took a few deep breaths.

Beth brushed some hair out of her face and asked gently, “Did you ever… tell anyone? About this?”

Viv shook her head. “Not this part,” she said quietly. “The rest… kind of. I told Steph. A little. Earlier at dinner.”

Beth gave a small nod, thumb grazing softly over Viv’s knuckles. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “You didn’t have to, but I’m really glad you did.”

Beth tucked her in again, arms around her carefully. “Do you want to just stay here a bit? We don’t have to talk anymore.”

Viv hesitated, then nodded against her chest. “Yeah. Can we just stay?”

“Of course we can,” Beth said, her hand already stroking gently up and down Viv’s back.

Beth’s arms were still wrapped around Viv, her body curved protectively around hers on the floor. She pressed a soft kiss into Viv’s hair, just holding her close, fingers brushing slow and gentle patterns across her back.

She hesitated before speaking again, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey… does living here ever—” she paused, then started again, “—does this house remind you of it? Of her?”

Viv was quiet. Beth could feel her breathing change a little, just enough to know she’d heard her. She didn’t answer right away, and Beth didn’t rush her.

“When I was living here alone… yeah,” Viv said finally, voice low. “Sometimes it did. Not all the time, but it… it felt heavy. ”

Beth’s heart ached. She pressed another kiss to the crown of Viv’s head.

Viv shifted a little, not to pull away—just to breathe deeper. “But when you moved in…” she exhaled, softer now, “it stopped feeling like that. Like her. Like those memories.”

Beth kept quiet, just letting her go on.

Viv swallowed. “You talk a lot,” she said, almost like she was teasing, but it was too gentle to be anything but sincere. “You come in talking about random stuff—what Myle did, something someone said in training, how Tesco ran out of your crisps again.”

Beth let out a small laugh through her nose, but her eyes didn’t leave Viv’s face.

“It’s… warm. Loud in the best way,” Viv continued. “You leave the telly on for background noise and then don’t even watch it. You hum when you do the dishes and you always call for Myle even when she’s right next to you. And I didn’t realize how much I needed all of that until it was here.”

Beth felt herself smiling, even though her throat was still tight. “You saying I’m annoying in a comforting way?”

Viv gave the tiniest nod, her cheek brushing Beth’s shoulder. “Something like that.”

Beth leaned her head closer, letting their foreheads rest together for a moment.
“I’m really glad it doesn’t feel like her anymore.

Viv nodded again, slower this time. “It doesn’t. Not when you’re here. With you… it feels like mine again.”

Eventually, Beth leaned back just enough to look at Viv properly. Her thumb brushed gently against Viv’s cheek, just once.

“I should’ve asked you,” Beth said quietly. “About Steph moving in. About the changes. I just… I didn’t think. And I’m really sorry.”

Viv’s eyes met hers, soft and still a little glassy, but steadier now.

“It’s okay,” she said, voice calm but honest. “I think I didn’t even realize it was bothering me until it all exploded. And by then I didn’t know how to say anything without making it worse.”

Beth’s face crumpled just a bit at that. “Still. I should’ve made sure. It’s your home too. It’s… ours.”

Viv didn’t answer right away. She just leaned into Beth a bit, their shoulders touching, her head resting lightly against Beth’s. It was quiet, but she didn’t pull away.

After a second, Beth tilted her head slightly, her voice low. “You okay?”

Viv let out a soft breath. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I think so. I mean, not completely, but… I’m better now.”

Beth gave a small nod, like she understood. Her hand was still on Viv’s, fingers tracing gently.

She hesitated, then asked, even softer, “Are we okay?”

Viv looked up at her, eyes still a little glassy, but steady. And there was this tiny smile there, tired and real. She nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

Beth’s chest eased just a little. She didn’t say anything—just reached up and tucked a piece of Viv’s hair behind her ear.

Viv leaned in without thinking, slow and soft, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to but really wanted to be close.

Beth met her halfway. The kiss was gentle—barely there at first, then just a little more. Soft and careful and a little shaky, like they were both still finding their way back.

When they pulled apart, Viv kept her forehead resting against Beth’s, eyes closed, breath brushing between them.

Beth smiled a little, brushing her thumb over Viv’s cheek. “Hi,” she whispered, just because.

Viv huffed a quiet laugh. “Hi.”

Beth’s fingers were still resting on Viv’s back when she looked over and asked gently, “You hungry? You didn’t really eat dinner.”

Viv blinked like she hadn’t even thought about that. “Yeah… a little.”

Beth smiled and stood up, giving her shoulder a soft squeeze. “Alright, I’ll get us something.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, keeping the lights low, rummaging around quietly. A couple slices of toast, some fruit, a bit of cheese—simple stuff. Easy. She poured two mugs of tea too, just because it felt right.

When she came back, she sat on the couch and looked at Viv. “Come sit.”

Viv got up and padded over, sitting down close, her shoulder brushing against Beth’s. Beth handed her one of the plates. “Here. Made you a little something.”

Viv looked at it, then at Beth. “You need to eat too.”

Beth held up her own plate. “Already on it.”

They ate in comfortable silence, no pressure to fill the space. Viv didn’t say much—just leaned into Beth a bit and slowly picked at her food. Beth stayed quiet too, just being there.

When they were done, Viv set her plate down and mumbled, “Think I wanna go to bed.”

Beth glanced over as she stood up to grab the plates. “Hey,” she said gently, “do you want the room to yourself tonight? I can stay with Steph if you’d rather.”

Viv looked at her, surprised, then shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I… I want to be close to you.”

Beth’s chest squeezed at that. She gave a small smile, nodding. “Okay.” She leaned in to press a kiss to Viv’s temple. “Go get into bed, yeah? I’ll just clean up real quick and then I’ll be right there.”

Viv hesitated for a second, then nodded again, quietly getting up and heading down the hallway.

Beth padded into the bedroom a few minutes later, the lights already dim, just the soft glow from the hallway spilling in. Viv was lying on her side, facing the wall, blankets pulled up high. She slipped under the covers quietly, careful not to jostle too much, and settled behind her. A moment passed, then Viv scooted back just slightly—just enough to let Beth know it was okay to be close.

She wrapped an arm around her waist, her hand resting lightly on Viv’s stomach, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Love you,” she whispered.

Viv let out the faintest sound, almost like a breath catching. “Love you too,” she said, just as quietly.

Beth leaned forward, kissed her again—slower this time, on the corner of her jaw. Then another on her cheek. When Viv shifted to face her, Beth kissed her lips, slow and soft and unhurried.

But as she pulled back, Viv’s hand found Beth’s wrist. She didn’t say anything at first. She just held on, then finally murmured—voice so low Beth almost missed it, “Can we… can we please not—” She hesitated, her brow pulling slightly. “Not have sex tonight?”

Beth blinked, pulling back just a little to get a look at her face. “What?” she said gently. “Love, of course. Why would we?”

Viv’s eyes flicked away, down to Beth’s shirt. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I just… thought maybe… since we fought and all… and now we’re okay again, I don’t know—like maybe we were supposed to or something. Like making up for it.”

Beth’s heart squeezed. She could feel the tension creeping back into Viv’s shoulders, the way she was suddenly second-guessing herself again, like she’d done something wrong.

“Hey, hey,” Beth whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to do anything. I didn’t come to bed thinking about that, okay? I just wanted to hold you. Just be with you.”

Viv nodded slowly, still avoiding her eyes.

Beth tilted her head, catching her gaze. “We don’t ever have to do anything you’re not fully, fully comfortable with. Ever. I’m just glad you’re here with me.”

Viv gave her a small nod, like the words were settling in slowly.

Beth stayed quiet for a moment, watching her, thumb still tracing slow circles on Viv’s back. “Why’d you think we would? I mean… tonight. After all that.”

Viv froze for a second, like the question had landed somewhere deep inside her. Her hand fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, fingers twisting it slowly. She didn’t answer right away.

Beth didn’t press. She just waited, her thumb gently brushing slow circles over Viv’s skin.

Viv finally spoke, but her voice was hesitant, quiet. “I don’t know. I just… I thought maybe we were supposed to. You know? After everything.”

Beth tilted her head, just enough to try and catch Viv’s expression. “Supposed to?”

Viv swallowed, still not looking at her. “With Lisa, after we fought, and things were tense… when we’d go to bed, she’d… she’d kiss me. Start touching me. And say stuff like… like she wanted to make up for the fight. That it would make things better. Make us feel close again.”

Beth’s chest ached. “So it always ended like that?”

Viv nodded slowly. “Not always. But… yeah. A lot. Even if I was still upset, or she was. It was like once we were in bed, that was it. That was how we moved on.”

Beth was quiet, listening. Her hand gently squeezed Viv’s, letting her know she was there.

Viv kept talking, her voice smaller now. “Sometimes she’d apologize while kissing me. Or I’d apologize first. Just to stop the silence. Or the tension. And then she’d say this was how we fixed things.”

Beth’s stomach twisted. “And did you want that? Did you want her to…?”

Viv didn’t answer right away. She kept twisting the blanket in her hand. “I didn’t want to fight anymore,” she whispered. “That’s what I wanted. I knew if we did it, she’d stop being mad. She’d be soft after. Hold me. And that part felt good. Like she wasn’t angry anymore.”

Beth’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Viv… did you actually want it?”

Viv shook her head a little. “I… I don’t know. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn’t. But even when I didn’t, I just… went along with it. I didn’t want to make things worse. And she’d hold me after. That made everything else feel less… bad.”

Beth brushed her thumb across Viv’s cheek, gentle as ever. “Did she know you didn’t want it?”

Viv took a while to respond. Then, finally, “No. I don’t think so. I mean… maybe? I never told her no. Not exactly. I didn’t stop her.”

Beth’s brows pulled in, her heart breaking more with every word. “She should’ve known. She should’ve paid attention.”

Her eyes stayed on the ceiling, like looking at Beth might make the words catch in her throat. “Sometimes… she’d get a bit frustrated,” she said eventually. “If it took too long. If I wasn’t—if I didn’t respond quick enough.”

Beth didn’t say anything, just kept holding her, steady and soft.

“It wasn’t like she got angry, not out loud. But I could feel it. In the way she’d sigh or shift, like she was disappointed. Or… bored.” Viv swallowed. “It would take longer than usual. Some nights, I’d just be too dry, and I think she could tell.”

She blinked a few times, still staring at the ceiling. “But if she kept going, or if I really tried to focus, eventually my body would… catch up. And I’d think, okay. If I’m wet, if my body’s reacting… then maybe it means I’m okay with it. That I want it, too.”

Beth’s arm tightened around her. “Viv,” she said gently. “No. That’s not how it works. That’s not what it means.”

“I know,” Viv said quickly, like the words stung. “I know that now. I just—back then, it helped. To think it was okay. That I wanted it. That I wasn’t just… letting it happen.”

Beth’s heart broke all over again.

Viv took a shaky breath. “Usually she’d just touch me. I’d be laying down, and she’d start kissing me. My neck, my chest. Her hand would go down, and that was it most of the time. Just her doing stuff to me. I didn’t move. I didn’t do anything. She liked it that way.”

Beth’s brows pulled in. “She didn’t… want you to do anything back?”

Viv shook her head, still not looking at her. “Not really. Sometimes I’d kiss her, or touch her a bit, but she liked when I just laid there. Quiet. Let her take care of it.”

Beth’s voice cracked just a little. “And that felt… normal to you?”

Viv finally turned her head, just a little, enough to glance at her. “I think I told myself it did. Because if I thought too much about it, I’d start to feel… weird. Like maybe something was wrong. With me. Or with us. So I convinced myself it was fine.”

Beth reached up, gently cupping Viv’s cheek. “It wasn’t fine,” she whispered. “None of that was fine. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Viv blinked, and her eyes glistened. “So… we don’t have to, right? I just needed to know. That we don’t have to.”

Beth shook her head slowly, holding her gaze. “No, love. God, no. We never have to do anything you’re not fully, completely comfortable with. Ever. That’s not what being close means—not to me.”

Viv gave her a small, fragile nod, eyes wet again.

Beth didn’t say anything right away. She just kept her hand on Viv’s cheek, thumb brushing gently back and forth, like she was trying to soothe something deeper than skin. Viv’s eyes were open but unfocused, staring at nothing, her whole body still tense like she was bracing for something—even now.

“Hey,” Beth whispered, barely a breath. “You don’t have to talk anymore, okay? You don’t have to explain anything else tonight. It’s done. You’re safe.”

Viv blinked slowly, like the words were slowly reaching her. She gave the tiniest nod, almost imperceptible, and Beth shifted just enough to pull her closer.

“C’mere,” she said, soft but steady, guiding Viv so her head rested against Beth’s chest, tucked just beneath her chin. Beth wrapped both arms around her now, hands splayed wide across her back like she was trying to hold all of her together.

Viv didn’t speak, but Beth felt the slight hitch in her breath, like she was still trying not to cry even though there was nothing left to spill. Her hand fumbled lightly for Beth’s hoodie and held onto it—just a little, just enough.

Beth pressed her lips to the top of Viv’s head, staying like that, her cheek resting against her hair. “You’re not alone,” she whispered. “Not anymore. You rest”

She started running her fingers through Viv’s hair, slow and rhythmic, and kept talking—not about anything big, just soft nothings meant to soothe.

“Remember when we burnt the pancakes and pretended they were meant to be ‘crispy’? Or when you made me watch that terrible Dutch rom-com and I ended up liking it more than you?”

Viv let out a small sound—part laugh, part breath—and Beth smiled into her hair.

“That’s all we have to think about right now, okay? Dumb movies. Burnt pancakes. You and me. Here.”

Viv’s body was still for a few more moments… and then slowly, Beth felt it—her muscles starting to relax, her weight settling more into Beth’s arms, like she was finally letting go.

Beth kept one hand in her hair and the other at her back, drawing small, steady circles. Viv’s breathing began to even out, slower, softer.

Beth whispered again, “You’re doing so good. I’m proud of you.”

Another quiet breath. The faintest nod.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Beth promised. “Sleep, love. I’ve got you.”

Viv didn’t answer. But her fingers loosened a little against Beth’s hoodie, and her breathing turned slow and steady, warm against Beth’s chest.

Beth stayed awake a little longer, just holding her, arms wrapped around her like a promise. She pressed one last kiss to Viv’s temple and whispered one more time—barely audible now.

“I love you.”