Chapter 24
“And you’re sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” Lexa slowly sat herself down on Anya’s couch, lifting her leg up on the coffee table. Anya looked at her from where she was standing.
“You are not going to regret it?”
“Anya, I am not vanishing from the face of the earth. I am just asking not to be a part of the active team any longer. I can still do office work.”
Anya sat down in the armchair across from her.
“Lex, I’ve known you since you took your first breath. You’ve never been destined for office work.”
She gave her a half-smile. “But I get that you are fed up with being shot at. … That is what this is about, isn’t it?”
Lexa hesitated maybe a second too long and Anya picked up on it.
“No. You’re doing it because of Clarke …” She looked at her sister. “Did she ask you to quit?”
“No.” Lexa shook her head. “She would never do that. I just … I’ve put her through so much. I cannot ask her to do this again, worry about me all the time. I want her to be happy.”
“And you think, you sitting behind a desk will make her happy?”
“Yes.”
“But will it make you happy?”
Lexa didn’t know how to answer that and Anya nodded.
“Yeah, I figured. Listen kiddo, I get your decision. I totally understand. But I don’t see you sitting in your office assigning jobs to others. If you wanna quit, quit for real. Find something your heart is into … Why don’t you pick up that camera of yours again? See if anything comes from it? It’s not like you have to worry about money. Half of this company is yours, no matter what.”
Lexa bit her lip.
“Anya, I can’t expect you to do this all by yourself.”
“Why? Do you think I can’t manage?” Anya laughed. “May I remind you that you left the country in the middle of the night and the company is still here? I did just fine …”
“That’s not what I …”
“I know exactly what you meant, Lex. You think you have a responsibility. The thing is: I want you to be happy. Clarke makes you happy. Don’t let her slip away.”
“I won’t.”
Lexa smiled, thinking about the ring box in her sock drawer.
“But I also think that you have to find something that makes you happy as a person. And I do recall that photography was always one of those things. You shouldn’t have put the camera away in the first place.”
“You really don’t want me here, do you?” Lexa laughed and Anya grinned at her.
“No. I want you gone from my office as far away as possible. Take a few days to think about it, okay?”
“Okay.”
–
“Where do all of these photos come from? They are gorgeous!”
Clarke carefully climbed over the stacks of photographs Lexa had spread across the floor of the living room. She picked up a beautiful colored shot. The focus was on a bumble-bee busy with pollinating while all of the flowers were a blur, a carpet of multiple colors.
“I took them.”
Lexa held up a negative against the light.
“You took them? All of them?”
Clarke picked up another photo. It was a black and white close-up of an old man sitting on a bench. A dog had its front legs on the man’s knee and he was laughing. It wasn’t just an ordinary black and white photo though. Clarke could see the wrinkles on the man’s face and a few grey streaks in the dog’s fur like they were three-dimensional. The way the light fell onto the man’s face, the way the shadows sharpened his features. The photograph had depth. It was a piece of art.
“Yes. Ages ago. I put them all away.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I had to work. I was with Costia and somehow …”
“Somehow you forgot about it?”
“Yes.”
“But Lex, these are beautiful.”
She heard a click and when she turned she looked directly into the lens of a camera. Another click.
“Lexa, don’t … Look at me! I’m still in my scrubs.” She laughed.
“I am looking at you.” Another click and another.
“Is this an analog camera?”
“Yes. It’s almost thirty years old. It’s my dad’s.”
Clarke looked at the picture in her hand.
“When did you take this?”
Lexa took a glance at the photo.
“That’s my grandfather. And his dog Sam. … He had to put Sam down a few month after that was taken. So I must have been about ten.”
“You took this when you were ten years old?!”
Lexa shrugged. “Well, maybe eleven.”
Clarke stared at her.
“And you didn’t photoshop this?”
Lexa raised her left eyebrow in confusion.
“No. It’s the only print. I made it in my parents’ basement.”
“You developed this on your own?”
“Yes. My dad showed me how.”
“Lexa, these are really good.”
Clarke picked up another photograph. Anya was sitting on a swing set, laughing so hard that her whole body was arched backwards almost making her fall off. “Why on earth did you stop with this?”
“I really have no idea. It just … happened.” Lexa got up, carefully avoiding putting too much weight on her injured leg. “But that is actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Your photographs?”
“Yes. Among other things.” She looked at Clarke. “Why don’t you take a shower and get changed and I order us some food? What are you in the mood for? Pizza? Chinese? Sushi?”
“Pizza sounds good.” Clarke frowned. “Is this going to be a serious talk? I feel like there is something on your mind.”
“Nothing bad. I promise.” Lexa kissed her on the cheek, but Clarke wasn’t convinced. Lexa could see it in the way she bit her lower lip and looked at her, but she wasn’t going to explain herself before dinner. She wanted to do this in the proper setting.
“Okay. You order pizza and I’ll take a shower, but then you will tell me what’s going on.”
“I promise.”
–
Clarke showered in record time and put on jeans and the red shirt she knew Lexa liked. She brushed her still damp hair and stared into the mirror. She looked tired. She wasn’t getting much sleep. Or rather sleep wasn’t restful. She still saw Roan’s face. She still heard the sound of the gun and the number of times she had woken up crying with Lexa holding her … She knew she had to do something about it. In fact she had already reached out.
She sighed and put down the hair brush. The doorbell was ringing and when she entered the kitchen Lexa had already set the table. Even though it was only pizza she had opted for “fancy”. The plates and the cutlery were neatly arranged. There were two glasses of red wine and a whole bunch of candles.
Clarke looked at her.
“Okay, what is it you have to make up for?”
Lexa smiled. She took Clarke’s hand, guided her to one of the chairs and made her sit down before she took the hair across from her.
“I don’t have to make up for anything. At least I hope I don’t?” She looked at Clarke with her head slightly tilted to the side and her eyebrows raised in question. When Clarke chuckled she opened the pizza box and maneuvered a slice onto Clarke’s plate and then another on her own. “I did want to make this a special occasion however, because I made up my mind about something and I wanted to tell you.”
“Okay?”
Clarke looked at her, waiting for the big reveal, but Lexa lifted her glass.
“First let me say this: I love you. … I didn’t think I could love anyone ever again. But here I am. Utterly in love with you. You put things in perspective for me and I cannot thank you enough for that.” She smiled when she saw that Clarke got a little flustered.
“I quit my job today.”
“You did what?”
Clarke blinked.
“I talked to Anya and I told her that I don’t want to be on active duty any longer. I am done with being shot at and late night stake-outs. I offered to do desk work, but my sister flat-out refused.” She chuckled and took a sip of the wine. It still needed a little air. “She told me to – and I quote – finally do something my heart is into. Then she suggested I should pick up my camera again. And so I spent the day looking at all the photos I took over the years and I realized that she is right. … Not that I will admit that to her.” She put her glass back down. “I missed it. … My camera. … I really did. I have no idea why or when I stopped. I was so busy with my responsibilities … When our parents died and Anya asked me to be part of the company it didn’t even occur to me to say no. Don’t get me wrong. I am good at this job. I really am and nobody forced me into it, but Anya is right. My heart was never into it. I wanted to travel the world and take pictures. I’ve always wanted that. Maybe that’s why I put the photos away. So they wouldn’t remind me.” She looked at Clarke who sat there staring at her.
“Are you still with me?”
Slowly Clarke’s face turned into the brightest smile.
“Lexa, I don’t think I have ever heard you talk about anything with so much passion before. Could it be you’re a closeted artist?”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No. No! Not at all. I think it is a great idea … And I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t a little relieved …” Her eyes focused on the plate in front of her. She was a little embarrassed to admit this. Lexa’s hand found hers and she looked up again.
“I know, Clarke. I am sorry for all the things I put you through …”
“Don’t be, Lexa. You needed closure and you didn’t know how bad it was going to get.”
“But I never meant to hurt you …”
“And you didn’t.”
“But you are not okay, Clarke.”
Lexa looked at her with so much sincerity and love, it almost made Clarke choke.
“You are right. I am not okay.”
She blinked away a tear.
“I asked my mum to make an appointment for me today. With a therapist. He is not exactly a friend of my mum’s, cause that would be awkward … but he is someone she trusts. I am scheduled to meet him on Monday.”
“That is great, Clarke. If there is anything I can do …”
“Oh, trust me, there will be a lot you can do, cause if you’re going to be an unemployed artist from now on I expect you to clean the apartment, do the laundry and also serve me a warm meal when I come home from work.”
Lexa looked at her.
“You’re going to have a field day with this ‘unemployed artist’ thing, aren’t you?”
Clarke gave her her brightest grin and took a huge bite of a slice of the pizza.
“Oh, yes!”