Soul

It takes me a long time to be able to return to the living room; my face must be a poem, and I don't feel like being bothered. I still feel my cheeks burning; one from the gentle touch of her hands and the other from her lips. I want to let myself go with all my strength, but I know it won't be that easy. Wanda is still very present in every part of me... not to mention that at the university, I'm Kate's boss. I was supposed to come here seeking tranquility, and this will give me anything but that.

By the time I manage to move, Lena is behind me with a huge teasing smile on her face. I'm not ready for her; I know she won't leave me alone, but I can give it a try. I pass by her, avoiding her inquisitive gaze, and head straight to the kitchen to get a cup for coffee.

"Spit it out," she says from behind me.

"My salivary glands are perfectly fine, thank you."

"Sestra, I can do this all night," she looks amused. "Talk."

"No."

"Talk," God, she's so unbearable, I hate her sometimes.

"About what?"

"About your fairy tales, smartass," I burst into laughter. "That puppy look gives you away."

"I don't have any puppy look, leave me alone."

"I'll find out one way or another. You decide the method of torture," I sigh.

"I feel so confused... I don't know," she interrupts.

"You do know, you know very well."

"I hate you."

"I know that too. Now tell the truth, lying poser."

"She's so beautiful that it hurts," I sat down and hid my face in my hands. "I'm scared that she makes me feel so vulnerable. I've cried with her, I've let her hold me... I'm letting her in."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"I'm her boss."

"You'll find advantages of working together," she says suggestively.

"Yelena, please," I come out of my hiding place, and she contains her laughter. "You're an idiot."

"Sestra, I'm so happy that you're feeling again. What's better than with a girl who's crazy about Max and, from what I can see, about you too."

"She's not crazy about me," she rolls her eyes in a very funny way.

"We've already agreed that your brain doesn't detect these things, so leave it to me. That girl has her eye on you."

"It 's crazy."

"Don't all the best things start that way?" she takes my hand in hers.

Eventually, Yelena left us alone at some point in the night. We talked about so many things that I can't remember, because most of all, I remembered Kate being so close to me. I kept looking around my house, and I could almost feel her gaze lingering on me from every corner. If there had been a chance, I would have asked her to stay with me, with us. She went to such great lengths to make me feel good.

I pick up my phone and put it down seconds later. I've already said thank you so many more times than I thought I could today. What excuse do I use to talk or text her if I'm going to see her again tomorrow? I put my phone back on the table before turning to look at the little bundle sleeping peacefully next to me. I jump when I hear the vibration of the phone next to me. I fear it's Pietro again, so I almost trip over myself to check. A silly smile appears on my face when I see the name of the person who sent the message.

Hope you're feeling calmer now and resting. I'd love to take you both to a fun place for lunch tomorrow, if that's alright with both of you. Sweet dreams.

Like a love-struck teenager, I bring the phone to my chest and hug it tightly.

My heels echo through the deserted hallway of the university; it's still quite early, and I can barely see a few souls wandering around. As I predicted, they no longer turn to look at me; I'm just another face in the crowd. Works perfectly for me.

I pass by the Arts department, which is still closed; I discreetly signal to the person following me. They think they're the only ones who can play dirty, but they're wrong.

I watch the person put up the yellow tape that signals the restricted area. Then, they stick a sign that reads 'Electrical Malfunctions'. Since the departments are organized by academies, the nearest and most extensive one for the "Team Rocket" to work in is the Literature department. So, they'll have to deal with Dr. Carter and Kate for the day, or maybe two. I smile to myself as I arrive at the classroom designated for Arts, and the few students there look at me strangely.

Let's bring some order.

"Tomorrow, you'll resume your normal classes with the assigned professor. You have my email on the board; let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

I watch them leave, a bit bewildered.

The exam was too elaborate for early morning hours; some of them looked a bit confused, others annoyed because they didn't feel prepared for something like this. America makes sure to tell them that the grade obtained in this exam won't reflect in their midterms. I had already told them, but it doesn't hurt to repeat.

My eyes shift as a figure approaches me; I hold back my laughter.

"I refuse to work in the Literature department," Walker says angrily, caring little that his students are around.

"You can work in the cafeteria."

"Do you think you're smarter than me?" Walker sparks with rage.

"Now, are electrical malfunctions my responsibility? I'm sure it's not the first time it's happened. I'm just following protocol. If you don't like it, you can work in the cafeteria. There's plenty of space."

"You don't know who you're messing with."

"Mr. Walker, you can scream all you want during your next break. You have two minutes to get to your next class. Have a nice day." I walk past him while I can almost see smoke coming out of his ears.

The day goes by calmly, and we work until we hear our stomachs growl. We've been buried in papers and morning exams. America is incredible, and just half an hour after lunch, we're completely free of work. She hums while recording the grades of the exams I'm reviewing.

"Can I ask you a question?" she says.

"Sure," I replied immediately.

"Are you married?" I furrow my brow. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Don't worry."

"I see the ring on your hand, but I've heard things," she smiles.

"I'm a widow. My wife passed away just a few months after my daughter was born."

"You have a daughter?" I nod. I take out my phone and show her a photo. "She's beautiful."

"She is, thank you."

"What's her name?"

"Max."

"Hi," we turned to the door. Immediately, a smile spreads across my face as I see grayish-blue eyes looking at me.

"Hi," I replied with a smile.

"Will you have breakfast with us? We're waiting for you."

"Yes, I was about to go."

"You can come too, America," Kate kindly offers.

"Thank you, but I'll pass," Kate never takes her eyes off me, and I love it.

"You have the rest of the day off," I tell her. "Thank you for your valuable help, America."

We walk leisurely through the enormous school halls, with only a few students seen accessing their lockers. We chat about academic matters and my morning adventure with Walker's group, omitting his complaints. Suddenly, Kate starts looking around before getting a bit closer to me.

"Did you rest well?" she asks.

"I suppose so," I shrug. "It was crazy yesterday."

"I think it was interesting," I look at her incredulously, and she suppresses a laugh.

"Silly."

"Nat, is today still on?" her shy question fills me with tenderness. I hold onto her arm tightly.

"Yes, unless you've changed your mind."

"No, not at all," she answers instantly. "I want to see Max's excited face at the place."

"Than-"

"If I were you, I wouldn't finish that sentence, Doctor," I chuckle softly.

Breakfast is more than incredible; I'm getting used to Peggy's humor and Kate's discreet glances. Gretchen (the other part of the "Team Rocket") is also there, but I feel like she's in spy mode. She spends the whole lunch watching us and almost nothing every interaction between the three of us. Our free time is about to end, and we listen attentively to Peggy talk about her travels during her sabbatical year before joining the army.

"Sri Lanka sounded like a wonderful choice. It was, until an earthquake caught us by surprise," I almost choked on my coffee. Kate's eyes widened in surprise. "It wasn't like the one a few years ago where the tsunami was deadly, but we got quite scared."

"I assume you went back home after that, right?" I inquire, and Dr. Carter starts laughing.

"Not at all, I still had India and several other places to go. I just rearranged my arrivals, and that was it."

"I would love to be able to do that at some point," Kate says. "Travel and see as much as I can."

"France is a good start and omen for your life as a traveler," I reply.

"After that, there hasn't been anything; I haven't even been to Canada or Mexico, and they are just around the corner."

"Patience, Kat," Peggy says in her deep voice. "The best journeys take time, but they come. It seems like life is running away or ending for us. We have a problem with being too impatient. Everything comes appropriately to those who know how to wait."

That last sentence from Dr. Carter echoes in my head for the rest of my academic day. Was this a life journey? Is everything that's happening to me part of it? And crazily, could the best be yet to come? I've always believed that what happened was bad luck; I've never tried to philosophize or look for the positive side of my wife's murder. I've never seen it as a bump in the road; I've seen it as the end of the road, that's why the gray cloud goes with me wherever I go.

Then my path continues here, in this city. Far away from everything that adorned my journey; now I find myself on a deserted road with a bag in one hand and my daughter in the other. I'm grateful to have sent America away as soon as we finished our work, so I had time to meditate without uncomfortable questions. I only need a bit of wine, and the moment will be perfect.

"Ready?" I startle when I'm taken out of my trance. "I'm sorry, I knocked a couple of times and got no response."

"I was lost in thought, sorry."

"If you don't want to go..."

"No, please. I need this."

I notice Kate being unusually quiet on the way to pick up Max, making me feel uncomfortable. Now she's the one meditating; her head doesn't move, and her gaze is fixed on the streets. I get excited when I see my daughter's school in my field of vision; I want to jump out of the car to go get her. I'm completely confused by Kate's behavior.

After she parks, I try to get out of the car in a hurry, but she stops me by taking my hand.

"Do you really want to come with me? It's okay if you don't."

"If I didn't want to, I would have told you."

"I know what Walker and Gretchen are saying, you don't have to pretend," I furrow my brow.

"What are they saying?" She denies it.

"You know. They made sure to tell me what they told you."

"I don't give a damn about what they think," I look her straight in the eyes. She looks tense, so much that I fear her jaw might explode. "Is it true?"

"Would it matter if I said yes?"

"Wouldn't it be hypocritical of me to say yes, don't you think?" she visibly calmed down, now she looks more relaxed. "I guess the 'Team Rocket' assumed that since I'm a widow with a daughter, they thought I must have had a husband instead of a wife. I'm sure that even if they knew my sexual orientation, it would only make it easier for them to create rumors. Trust me, this kind of action doesn't bother me at all; I've dealt with homophobia before, and I'm sure it won't be the last time."

"They'll keep bothering you," she says after several seconds of silence.

"I can keep putting yellow tape in their office," I shrug.

"Natasha..." I use my other hand to hold hers with both of mine.

"Kate, I enjoy being with you, and so does my daughter. You're a wonderful girl; nothing has changed. I promise you."

"Thank you," she almost deflates, releasing all the pressure. I smile.

"Now, if we don't want to be scolded, we'd better go get my little one."

It goes without saying that I was ignored by my daughter. There was a kiss and a hug after she let go of Kate, but her attention quickly went back to her. They look so adorable together, but my mind spins with thoughts that if something were to happen, if things don't work out... I'll separate them, and Max will suffer a lot. I'm scared of how easily Kate entered our lives, and it's impossible for me (given my history) not to think that everything is temporary. I don't want my daughter to go through that.

"What do you want, sweetie?"

"Waffles with strawberries and whipped cream!" I won't even try to say something else.

"With a chocolate shake?"

"Yes!" Some people turn to look at us.

"Kate," I warn.

"It's still early; we can go to the park for a run after this," she excuses herself. "Please?" She pouts. Seconds later, Max does the same.

"Stop playing dirty, girls."

"Please?" They both clasp their hands in a sign of supplication.

"Fine," I roll my eyes, "but we'll go for a run in the park afterward."

The conversation is mostly absorbed by my daughter and Kate. They talk about paintings, bows, arrows, Max's school stuff, cartoons, and their plans for future outings. Kate is cautious, saying it will depend on her workload and mine. Occasionally, she glances at me with a discreet smile before refocusing on my daughter.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Max asks innocently.

"No," Kate responds playfully.

"Are you married?"

"Nope."

"You can find someone with my mummy, she's looking for another mamma for me," I feel my face heat up.

"That's entirely false," I intervened immediately.

"Maybe we'll find someone together," Kate replies, looking straight at me.

"But will you get married someday?"

"I suppose so."

"You're very pretty, why don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Well..." she looks nervous, "because I... because I like girls."

"My mummy also likes girls, she was married to my mommy who's in heaven."

"Subject closed, Max."

"Why do you like girls?" She seems genuinely interested in the topic.

"Because they are very beautiful."

"Like my mummy?" I spit my coffee instantly. Kate laughs.

"Yes, your mummy is a good example of that," I refuse to look at her, I don't want those eyes to delve deep into me and realize that I also think she's a good example of that.

"I think it's time to go to the park and burn off the food," I stood up to go to the bathroom and avoid her.

When I come out of the bathroom, I can see them in the parking lot. Max is sitting on the car hood, trying to braid Kate's hair while the latter closes her eyes, enjoying the affection she's receiving. As predicted, as soon as she opens her eyes, she spots me walking towards them. Her gaze is so intense, and there's no hint of a smile on her face. I feel my legs trembling as I approach.

"Ready?" she asks in a husky voice. I know my voice will give me away as soon as I open my mouth, so I nod weakly.

She takes Max in her arms and settles her in the back seat, then kindly walks over to open my door. She puts on some music in the car to break the enormous tension. Max is entertained looking out the window, and I'm doing my best to avoid looking at Kate and drooling. I can hear her humming along to the songs she knows, but I can also sense how tense she is. We both are.

It's such a strange feeling, what I'm experiencing. I like this incredible woman, I love spending time with her, I feel comfortable around her, and my daughter feels the same way. But here's the problem: my heart is numb and broken, my wife will never leave me... and there's also the university and the age difference. I'm almost ten years older than her. Our worlds are so different that only a miracle could make them collide.

We get out of the car in solemn silence. As soon as Max touches the ground, she takes Kate's hand and mine, leading us to the swings with unusual joy. I know she's looking for me with her eyes, but I can't do it, I shouldn't. A horrible tightness in my chest makes me realize why.

I distance myself from them, my little one pushes Kate on the swings, and she laughs heartily. This consuming feeling is my fault. Silent tears stream down my cheeks. I'm a total mess. I barely notice someone approaching me.

"Please, don't cry. It wasn't my intention to make you feel bad," she says, sounding so stressed that it breaks my heart.

"It 's not that."

"Tell me what to do," she sounds desperate, and it fills me with pity.

"Hug me," she doesn't wait to hear the rest before wrapping her arms around me.

"I'm sorry," she plants a kiss on my head, "please forgive me," I can't answer, so I just hug her tighter, "leave Max alone... I... stay here, we'll go home in a moment."

"No, play together. I'll compose myself, and everything will be back to normal."

"I refuse to be a part of this terrible way you have of suppressing yourself."

"Please..." Kate sighs.

They play a little longer, they look happy and beautiful together. Kate takes Max to the car and secures her in the backseat, then she comes back for me. There's an indescribable feeling in my chest when I see her approaching. I long to embrace her and have her with me for a long time, undisturbed.

She drives us home in silence, and my daughter is fast asleep. We're only a few blocks away from our destination when she decides we need to talk.

"It was never my intention to insult you."

"In what world would a woman get furious if someone tells her she's beautiful? Especially coming from someone like you."

"Like me?" I roll my eyes.

"Yes, like you," I don't give her a chance to say more for the rest of the way.

As soon as we arrive, I carry my little one to put her to bed.

"Can you turn on the coffee maker while I tuck her in?"

"Right away," she says, and it takes me a few minutes to get everything settled for my daughter to rest.

When I step out, I see Kate leaning against the kitchen island with her head down.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Hi," she attempts to smile, "Natasha, I was very reckless in saying that."

"What I told you in the car is true, I feel flattered."

"By someone like me?" she asks, confused.

"Gorgeous," I say without looking at her.

"Do you find me gorgeous?"

"You are."

"Wow..." she bursts into laughter, "just... wow..." I see her confusion.

"Should I call the police?" she suddenly approaches me and takes my face in her hands.

"Why were you crying?"

"I was feeling emotional."

"Because I tell you that you're beautiful?"

"Yes."

"You're a terrible liar," she caresses my cheeks gently, "are you ready for the truth?"

"Is there a specific moment for that?"

"Good point, Doctor," she agrees, "you still haven't answered."

"If I tell you no, you won't be bothered?"

"Of course not. I'm at your disposal," I free myself from her grip and turn my back.

"I'm ready," I hear her take a deep breath.

"You attract me a lot," I feel her getting closer to me, "when you lived here, I didn't understand it. It took me a long time to realize my feelings for you. I was terribly attracted to the bold, intelligent, and fun young woman you were. I saw you and wanted to be your friend, wanted to be with you, talk to you, share," she takes another breath, "and now life puts this beautiful woman in front of me. I don't want to miss this opportunity."

"I don't think it'll work out," I try futilely to stop what's happening.

"I've seen your gaze towards me. I don't want to presume, but I know I'm not indifferent to you," her breath is almost on my neck. "Deny it," I can't, the struggle returns to my heart, along with tears.

"I wish I could do something about this... I can't. I'm a wreck, that's why I cried in the park. Wanda is still here, all the time."

"I won't replace her, I never could. No one could."

"I don't want to drag you into all this," I turn back to her and carefully place my hand on her neck, "no..." I close my eyes tightly, "I've smiled more with you during this time than in the past five years. It scares me... I want to hug you, I want to kiss you..."

"Then do it. When you feel ready, do it," I rest my head on her chest, and she hugs me tenderly, "you need to stop this strange habit of crying while I hug you," she chuckles.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You know I'm just joking. If you want to cry, I'm here," I hug her tighter.

She leads us to the sofa and goes back to the kitchen to get our respective coffee cups. She sits very close to me, and I lean in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"You're incredible, Kate."

"Incredible is that my crush from my entire life thinks that I am gorgeous" I smile.

"Is that why the 'wow' earlier?"

"Yes. What are the odds?"

"You're almost ten years younger than me," almost instinctively, the self-sabotage begins.

"Eight is not ten."

"Alright, Einstein."

"Let's make some things clear before your subconscious does something," she adjusts herself to face me, "I don't care that you're older than me. I also don't care that you have a daughter; in fact, I love it because that little one is wonderful," I smile at her, "I don't care that you're a widow; it hurts me what you've been through, and if I can do something about it, believe me, I'll move heaven and earth to make sure you're okay," I try to speak, "and I don't mind waiting. I've felt this way about you for many years; a few days, weeks, months, or even years won't kill me. I really like you."

"Overwhelming," I murmur.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I want you to have the full picture."

"What if..."

"Nothing happens. Much to my dismay, I don't expect anything in return."

"That's silly; we always want something," for the first time, I see her sexy smile on the side of her face. She looks beautiful.

"I want you," I close my eyes. I feel her face nuzzling into my neck.

"Time is what I want now, please."

"Sure, but at least answer me something," I nod slightly, "do you like me?"

"No," I feel her hold her breath for a moment, "I adore you," she leaves a gentle kiss on my sensitive skin, then emerges from her hiding place and takes my hand to kiss my knuckles.

"I know," she says with a playful smile, "I think it's best if I go now. I have a few things to take care of."

"Of course, I'm sorry I kept you."

"You didn't," she smiles at me, "thank you for this."

"Thank you," I stood up to accompany her to the door.

"If you need anything, call me at any time," she takes my hand very softly, "sweet dreams, Nat."

"Sweet dreams, Kate," she smiles once more before disappearing down the hallway. She's so damn gorgeous.

As soon as I close the door, I rush to the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. There are certainly a few wrinkles adorning my eyes. It's normal; I used to smile a lot before Max. You could say my smile was fixed even when I slept. My wife used to say she loved my green eyes, enjoyed seeing me in the sunlight, and gazing at me with love. I'm nothing special; I'm not at the point of saying I'm ugly, but there's not much more to it.

It's impossible to think, what can that stunningly beautiful girl see in me? Her face is perfect, and what she has done for us in this short time shows how warm her heart is. I feel a strange warmth in my body, remembering that she's liked me for a long time. I never saw her that way; it would have been strange. She was very young. Her eyes were always distinctive, and her personality was golden retriever energy, yet she also radiated peace.

I run to my room to grab my phone, then head to the kitchen for a bottle of wine before settling on the couch. I dial the familiar number and lie down on the couch while waiting for her to answer the call.

"Hey, old lady."

"She likes me."

"Who?"

"You know who."

"I already knew," she says in a neutral tone, "I told you, your brain isn't fit for these things."

"I'm really scared. Everything is happening too fast, and I don't know how to feel about it."

"You need to stop overanalyzing everything. I told my super sexy agent that I love her after two weeks of knowing each other. I felt it and said it. We've been together for almost four years, and I've never been happier. There's no time frame for falling in love or liking someone. I think it's great when the universe puts people like that in your path."

"Wanda..." I sigh.

"Wanda is gone. You need to move forward, sis," I hear her sigh, "I've seen you suffer for so long that I pray to all the gods to open your mind and your heart," I hear her voice falter, "I'm tired of seeing you sad."

"She 's different."

"And she adores Max; for me, that gives her a thousand points. She genuinely cares about both of you."

"She told me she's willing to wait however long it takes."

"Did you let her know that you like her too?"

"Yes."

"That's a good start. You didn't lie to her."

"I did lie to her," I can almost see her rolling her eyes, "I didn't tell her she's driving me crazy," I smile. I hear my sister's soft laughter from the other end of the line.

"She's a smart woman; I know she'll figure it out sooner rather than later."