Three years had passed and Lisa’s grief still hung in the air like an ever-present fog. Some days, it was thick, others it was thin. But it was always there, enveloping her in everything she did.
At first, the mornings were the hardest. Lisa would wake up in an empty bed, sometimes still expecting to see Becky lying there. The magnitude of her death crushed her the second she remembered. Then the silence would hit. The empty space Becky’s laugh used to fill was hollow, and everywhere seemed to echo with the absence of her presence. When Lisa had finally ran out of tears to cry, a dull ache settled in her chest like a bruise that never quite healed, still tender to the touch.
Lisa had tried to go through the motions of life - work, chores, socialising - but nothing filled the gap Becky had left behind. It was as though life was happening to Lisa; life’s events were ongoing around her without her actively partaking in them.
Grief also hit her hard in her own actions. On too many occasions, Lisa caught herself reaching for her phone to text Becky about something, a thought or something funny that had happened, and her world would come crashing back down around her as her thumb hovered pointlessly over the send button.
Nights had been difficult too. In the darkness, Lisa was powerless to stop the memories of Becky from flooding back. When Lisa was on the brink of sleep, she could swear she could smell her perfume on the pillow or feel her fingertips lightly brushing her arm. It was a comfort but a torment, a reminder of everything she had lost.
And then she met Carla.
Headstrong, caring, beautiful Carla.
Initially, they had clashed, Lisa’s passion for her work against Carla’s passion for her found family. She’d been the bane of Lisa’s life for a long time. And then Carla had been the one to reach out, the first person to ask Lisa if she was okay since her friends and family had stopped checking in with her. Carla may have got the wrong end of the stick with Lisa at first, assumptions sending her down the wrong path, but Lisa felt it there for the first time - Carla’s fierce loyalty, and her need to protect those she cared for. Lisa yearned for more and the guilt of that ate away at her from the inside out. And then, later on, when she realised she was falling for Carla, the guilt bowled her over. Inner turmoil with no clear resolution weighed heavily on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. It felt like the start of a sordid affair, only worse because Lisa was betraying the memory of Becky too. Every time she laughed with Carla, started to enjoy life again, or longed for Carla’s affection, the wave of guilt drowned her once more.
Lisa had run away from Carla so many times, needing to put the physical distance between them that she could not hold between their hearts.
In time, something within her shifted at an immeasurable speed, and Lisa was utterly unaware it was happening until it was complete. It was tentative and hesitant, but Lisa came to the realisation that she did deserve love. She was allowed to love another. It didn’t make her love Becky any less.
Months passed and, eventually, Lisa stopped running and started to choose to stay. Her moments with Carla didn’t erase the past. Lisa wasn’t abandoning or forgetting Becky, but honouring that love while allowing herself to experience a new, different love. It took time but Lisa came to the realisation that all Becky ever wanted was for her to be happy. And that is what Carla made her.
Carla, who had been through so much in her life, made space for Becky in their lives. Lisa could talk freely and openly about her, she could celebrate her life and her death, and Carla never overstepped once. She just gave Lisa the space and support she needed. Carla opened Lisa’s heart to the possibility of healing.
Lisa loved hard, she loved foolishly, and she loved loudly. She loved Carla. With it no longer shrouded with the burden of feeling disloyal and unfaithful, there was a newfound freedom to her love, even if she wasn’t ready to share it yet. With Carla, Lisa’s world was filled with colour once more, the strength and vibrancy of her feelings spilling out. Initially, she was euphoric - heart racing, fumbling words, warmth spreading through her body. And then it calmed. Not through a decline in her feelings, but rather a settling of them. She stopped feeling butterflies and started feeling safe.
But before she could tell Carla she wanted to give them a go, it was taken from her. Time was suspended as she sat by Carla’s hospital bed, praying to a god that she didn’t believe in for Carla to pull through. Lisa waited there all night, the sterile stench of antiseptic and constant beeping of machines a stark reminder of how fragile the line was between life and death. It was unbearable but Lisa couldn’t tear herself from her side.
When Carla regained consciousness, the relief that flooded over Lisa was overwhelming. Time rushed forwards once more as the weight of fear fell from her chest. Joy and disbelief ran through her veins, not certain she was strong enough to make it through losing the second love of her life. The love of her life that she still had yet to confess her feelings to. The love of her life that opened up an opportunity for her to do so. But Lisa couldn’t take it.
She ran one more time.
On occasion, men could be wise. Roy was one of the rare ones. Lisa had never been one to like being told what to do - it had got her in trouble a few times at work and in her personal life. So, when Roy handed her some heavy suggestions about Carla being at home in her flat after being discharged from the hospital, Lisa was surprised to find that she appreciated it. She’d needed it. Discussing her dating life with the woman she’d fallen for’s father figure after running out on her in a hospital was not the most comfortable she’d ever been, but Roy had plenty of life advice, and Lisa couldn’t fault anything he’d said. His home truths had been more hard-hitting than she’d anticipated but it was the kick up the backside she’d required.
To lose Carla, at this point, would be to lose everything. And so, Lisa made amends. She’d always struggled with voicing her feelings, and this had grown ten times worse since Becky’s death. Added to which, she’d had no idea how Carla would react. So, when Carla had accepted, with a fair and valid amount of resistance, Lisa’s world started to turn again. In that moment, and in the months that followed, Lisa vowed to do whatever she could to repair and rebuild the parts of their relationship she’d broken.
As Carla grew to trust her once more, Lisa’s gratitude never wavered. She let herself feel hope again, starting as a flicker and blossoming into a roaring inferno. After years of only being able to look a day ahead, Lisa started to be able to imagine what her future would look like. Not grand, unrealistic moments, but small, shared, precious ones of quiet conversations, small smiles and the possibility of building something long-lasting. As these moments arrived in the flesh, she let herself fully enjoy them, catching herself smiling at the way Carla would brush a strand from her face, feeling all the tension from the day ease the moment Carla softened around her.
Lisa and Carla grew closer and closer, the thread between them almost tangible. Every glance, every word, every touch was charged with more. They were strong and steady, like a river carving its way through stone.
Lisa finally felt hope.
She felt alive.
And then it shattered into pieces right before her.
Lisa loved Carla. She had loved Carla with every ounce of her being. And yet, when Carla had accidentally confessed her love for her, Lisa couldn’t find the words to return it. Her heart was full but her tongue was tied.
But Lisa didn’t run. She followed Carla, fighting with all her might to ignore the urge to take off that had been activated from deep within. Lisa just needed more time, she had pleaded, she would be ready soon. Because of her words, Carla was blind to the love that burned in Lisa’s heart or eyes.
Then came the lies. Or lie, singular. Lisa could hear it in Carla’s voice, she knew it in her gut. Carla had been nowhere near an airport. But Lisa didn’t know where she was and didn’t feel in a position to push. Lisa had hurt Carla’s feelings and Carla was lying to protect herself. It was a lethal combination.
When Lisa learnt the truth, it took all she had to hold herself together while the universe was trying to tear her to shreds. Sepsis, kidney failure, her own daughter’s involvement. This was the second time Lisa thought she was going to lose Carla. This time, potentially because of her stubbornness of not accepting her brother’s kidney. Pride was a deadly sin and Carla was serving herself to it on a silver platter.
For Carla, Lisa had to stay strong. For Betsy, Lisa had to stay strong. At work, Lisa had to stay strong. But there is a limit to how much anyone can bear, and Lisa had taken on far more than her fair share.
Lisa stumbled into Carla’s flat, her home for the time being, and the dam broke before she could even close the door behind her. In the silence of a rare moment alone, Lisa broke. Completely and utterly. There were no warning signs of trembling hands or a swallowed tightness in her throat, her chest just heaved with sobs she was too weak to suppress, the sound of them raw, guttural, and strange to her own ears. Her tears spilt faster than she could wipe them away, as if they’d been eagerly awaiting a chance to escape.
This feeling was far too familiar - the rawness of her grief ripped back open.
Lisa didn’t make it to Carla’s bed before her knees buckled, collapsing a mere two feet from the frame, her body folding in on itself as the overwhelming tide of fear, grief and exhaustion poured out of her. The strength she had managed to cling to dissolved, leaving endless room for all the emotions she had refused to feel. The terror of losing Carla. The helplessness of not being able to fix her. The crushing weight of pretending to be fine when she was anything but. Experiencing the death of the love of her life again.
She pulled herself towards the bed, no energy to lift herself atop it, but just enough to rest her back against it, pulling Carla’s dressing gown towards her. She clutched it to her chest, the only thing keeping her tethered. The fabric was soft but slightly worn, and Carla’s scent still lingered there, faint but unmistakable, no matter the number of times Lisa had fallen into a restless sleep holding it tight. She inhaled shakily, breathing in Carla’s shampoo, her skin and the comforting familiarity of home. The tears fell harder, faster, soaking into the fabric as if it could absorb her grief.
When she’d first heard of Carla’s kidney failure, Lisa had worn the dressing gown over her shoulders, tricking herself into believing Carla was there, holding her. But the emptiness of the arms hanging limp at her sides was a cruel reminder of the truth. Lisa couldn’t face putting herself through that again and just held it closer, the ache in her chest unbearable as her body was racked with the force of her sobs. She rocked herself slightly, the movement instinctive, soothing herself the way Carla would have done if she were there. But she wasn’t. And that crashed over her like a wave, again and again, leaving her gasping for air.
Lisa fiercely gripped Carla’s dressing gown, sobs refusing to relent. And yet, although it felt like she was breaking, there was a strange sense of release. A heaviness lifted, if only slightly, as her body found relief in no longer pretending. Lisa was exposed, vulnerable, and undone. But she was also free. Lisa allowed herself to let it all out in private, her mask discarded, her armour abandoned. In the morning, she would put them back on again and find the strength to get through this. For Betsy, for Carla, and for herself too.