The brightness of the moon illuminated the bedroom, aside from the few lamps resting on their bedside tables.
The night was only just beginning, but after a long day filled with many pregnant patients and burning buildings, the two decided to turn in early.
Carina fiddled with the ends of the blanket, leaning against her pillows as she waited for Maya to return from her shower.
She was thinking of joining the blonde, and she probably would’ve if she hadn’t already taken one herself hours prior.
Plus their relationship is still fresh after months of arguing and anger.
Carina had recently moved back into their apartment, a week ago to be exact, and they were still actively working to rebuild their relationship and trust to what it was before.
But Carina had forgiven Maya days ago for what had occurred. All the vile words that were thrown at her like insults and all of Maya’s attempts to push her away were now forgiven.
Maya’s been working extra hard in therapy, something Carina’s really proud of her for. She hasn’t shared a lot about what she’s discussed in therapy, but Carina has seen an apparent change in Maya’s mood and behavior, which has been refreshing to witness.
Those blue eyes that attracted her since the very beginning were no longer as dull as light’s began to make its way back inside those orbs.
Not wanting to fall asleep before Maya returned from the bathroom, Carina climbed out of bed, getting down on her knees as she pulled back her dresser drawer where her and Maya kept all their books.
She meticulously searched through the books, searching for one that she started reading a few nights ago when Maya was fighting a five alarm and she was unable to sleep without her presence.
The familiar blue cover caught her eye, leading Carina to pick up the book, pulling it out of the drawer. As she was about to close the drawer, a folded piece of paper got her attention.
It was once laying underneath the book she had just retrieved, almost begging for her attention as she took the paper into her hands.
Beginning to unfold the paper, she quickly realizes how long it is, causing her to take her time as to not tear the material.
The bathroom door swung open, the sound of the fan being turned off filled the room with silence once again.
Maya stepped out of the bathroom, attempting to dry her hair with her towel, immediately freezing at the sight of Carina with that piece of paper in her hands.
“What are you doing?” Maya asks firmly as she marches over to Carina side, snatching the paper from her hands and holding it close to her chest, hiding it from her wife.
It’s been a while since Carina has heard that tone coming from Maya. She’s been working on being more patient and understanding, yet that tone is harsh.
“I didn’t read anything, I promise. I was trying to find my book,” Carina explains, holding up her book for added measure.
“But you were opening it,” Maya points out. “You can’t read it. You can’t see,” she declares protectively.
Carina observes the tears pooling in Maya’s eyes, although none of them shed down her cheeks. Her heart pounds as nerves fill her body, wondering what that paper could have written on it that Maya’s trying so hard to hide from her.
“I wasn’t reading it. I was going to, but you came out before I could unfold it all the way,” Carina calmly states, wanting to make sure she doesn’t upset Maya further, quickly understanding that whatever this is about, it’s important.
Maya remains quiet, frozen in her spot, not quite sure she fully believes what Carina’s saying.
Carina can’t know what’s on the paper. She isn’t ready to relive her childhood all over again and explain it in detail. Carina deserves the whole story and she doesn’t know if she has it in her to go through it all.
“Maya, is something wrong? Should I be worried?” Carina questions carefully, seeing as though her wife hasn’t said a word. Her intention was never to unsettle Maya. She doesn’t even know what her intention was to begin with. She just saw a piece of paper and curiosity got the best of her.
“No, nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I just…I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay?” Maya asks desperately. “I will tell you about it at some point, just not tonight.”
“Okay,” Carina nods, although the uneasiness that has long settled within the depths of her stomach doesn’t dissipate.
“Promise you won’t look?” Maya double checks, a slight waver to her voice that Carina instantly picks up on.
The brunette stands up from the floor, placing the palms of her hands against Maya’s cheeks, forcing their eyes to connect.
She sees the fear in Maya’s eyes, something that’s deeply unsettling to witness. She wishes she knew what was causing these feelings, but if it’s something she did, she feels terrible about it.
Carina never wants Maya to be fearful around her.
“I won’t look. I would like to know what it is, but you don’t have to tell me. I understand. It’s just…are you safe, bambina? Is everything okay?” Carina checks and Maya’s eyes widen, knowing what she’s insinuating.
“Oh god, yes. I’m fine. It’s something I worked on with Diane and it’s raw and private,” Maya explains, not wanting Carina to have to worry about her wellbeing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to look at it,” Carina apologizes as Maya shakes her head.
“It’s not you’re fault. It’s just personal and something i’m working on in therapy. And one day I will tell you all about it, but I just need more time to process it better,” Maya declares as the brunette nods.
“I understand,” Carina softly states, pressing a small kiss to Maya’s forehead, visibly seeing all of her wife’s stress melt away at the touch.
“Can we go to bed?” Maya asks and Carina giggles at her words, thinking back to a time not too long ago where she practically had to pin Maya down in order to get her to rest.
“Of course,” Carina answers, regretfully dropping her hands from Maya’s face as she saunters back over to the bed.
Maya stuffs the paper back in its drawer, hoping that Carina won’t read it. She trusts her wife wholeheartedly, but it’s an intense timeline of her history, the good and the bad, and while Carina knows a lot of it, she doesn’t know everything.
And it’s a part of her that she’s not sure she’s ready to share yet.
Maya’s muscles felt heavy and her chest felt rather tight. Her cheeks were rosy from tears and blue eyes red from all the rubbing she did to try and get rid of those tears.
It was her third therapy session, each one getting deeper into her past, digging up memories that she hasn’t thought about in years due to burying that trauma.
Going to bed with an empty stomach and raw, blistered feet after a long day of training and food restrictions.
Being locked in her room as a punishment for sneaking candy at school because she was just so hungry.
Almost passing out on the track after an intense training session with little to no water breaks.
Each uncovered memory more horrifying than the last and Maya has truly realized how many memories she’s had to explore at these therapy sessions.
Diane has expressed how proud she is at Maya’s attempt at processing and working through her childhood trauma and while the praise feels good, the exhaustion she feels at the end of every session feels even worse.
Entering her apartment, the smell of Carina’s famous lasagna, given that it’s almost dinner time, is almost enough to make her burst into tears.
And although she appreciates it more than she thinks Carina knows, she really just wants to climb into bed and disappear underneath the covers, hiding away from the world, just for a little bit.
But Carina is there to supply a kiss and a hug, a smile paired as well. “Ciao bambina,” she whispers as she pulls back from the hug, tears forming in Maya’s eyes.
“Hi,” she sniffs, glancing up at the ceiling to ward off her watery eyes. She’s cried enough for the day and she’s over it.
“How was your session?” Carina asks with a soft smile, having noticed Maya’s tears.
“I think i’m ready to talk about the paper. Can we do that? Can we talk?” Maya asks with a small voice, her eyes planted everywhere but Carina’s eyes.
“Of course,” Carina nods, taking Maya’s hand into her own and giving it a squeeze. “Do you want dinner first?”
“Can we wait?” Maya questions, knowing that if she eats dinner now, she won’t want to talk later. Now that she’s ready, she has to do it before she changes her mind.
“Sure,” Carina replies.
“Okay,” Maya sighs, her breath shaky, and that small voice in her head, the one she’s actively trying to learn to ignore, tells her she’s weak for being so emotional.
Choosing to block out that familiar voice, Maya leads Carina to their bedroom, using a moment to search for her paper, both of them taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“At my first session with Diane, she told me to write a timeline of my life up to my Olympic win starting with the first time I ever wanted to win,” Maya starts to explain, doing her best to push back any emotion so she can get through this easier.
“At first, I thought it was a little stupid, but Diane urged me to give it a try, so I did,” she adds, starting to unwrap the paper, revealing the timeline, majority of it written in red ink.
“It turns out there was a lot, and this is only up to age eleven,” Maya states, holding out the paper in front of her, leading Carina to glance at it, her heart already breaking at all the events in Maya’s life, her eyes quickly scanning over each one.
“The very first time was when I was three years old. Mason was born and it sounds so stupid, but I wanted to be the better sibling. I thought that if I was the better sibling, I would win and earn my dad’s love,” Maya explains, a small tear falling from her eye, sliding down her cheek, which she quickly wipes away.
Carina remains quiet, biting her lip to keep her own tears at bay, her heart aching at all the pain she knows Maya has felt over her lifetime.
How Maya believed that love was conditional, something she only deserved when she was a winner.
Carina thought she was doing a good job at teaching Maya that love was supposed to be unconditional, but she wasn’t doing as well as she originally thought.
Although, she knew that she couldn’t put the blame on herself, aware that this was something rooted in Maya since she was really young.
Three years old apparently.
“There’s was one time were I was at my cousin’s track meet. My dad was her couch and she was winning at the beginning of her race. My dad…he was so happy. He was cheering,” Maya recalled with a small smile, one that quickly disappeared. “But then something happened and people started to pass her. She ended up coming in last. He was so mad.”
“I was three years old then too and I remember seeing his face turn red. He didn’t say a word to my cousin after the race and he barely acknowledged my mom and I the whole ride home,” Maya continued. “I decided then that I would never lose.”
“Oh bambina,” Carina sighs, emotion strong in her voice, giving Maya a pause as she looks up from her hands for the first time, seeing the tears welling up in those beautiful brown eyes.
No one has ever cried for her like this before. Besides Diane, nobody has listened to her past and felt her pain.
She would often joke about little things from her childhood with her friends that would usually end up in laughter or awkward silence.
There were never tears shed because of her unfortunate past and she feels so loved.
“Don’t cry. I’m okay,” Maya assures, feeling a little uneasy at the sight, not being used to the feeling that someone else cares for her this much.
She had doubted Carina’s love recently and it had nothing to do with how her wife has been treating her, because it was nothing out of love and affection, but she was a loser.
She lost her job, lost her dignity after blackmailing her boss, and it felt like she lost a little of Carina’s love when she received no support after the blackmailing.
And she deserved every bit of it because she had failed.
“I know,” Carina sniffles, wiping her eyes. “But you weren’t okay. My heart hurts for you, Maya.”
“Oh,” Maya replies dumbfounded.
“You can continue,” Carina assures, wanting to make sure that Maya gets the chance to say everything that she needs to without her disrupting it.
“In 1996, my dad took me to the Olympic games. I saw Fernanda Ribeiro win gold with her 10,000 meter race,” Maya retells. “My dad’s face lit up and he asked me if I would do that someday. If I would ever go to the Olympics. And he just looked so happy, so I said yes.”
“Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I said no. If he still would’ve trained me to be the best. If I still would’ve had his love,” Maya wonders out loud, pausing for a moment to recollect her thoughts.
Maya searches for Carina’s hand, taking it into her own once she finds it, squeezing it and using the comforting touch for extra strength, allowing her to continue.
“That’s when I remember my food being monitored and restricted. One night, when I was six, I was doing homework at the dinner table with my dad and I was learning how to read,” Maya says, her mind going back to the memory.
“I can’t do it,” Maya whispers under her breath, flinching at the sound of her dad smaking his hand against the table, creating a loud, booming noise.
“Losers don’t give up,” Lane spat, pointing to her worksheet. “Go again.”
“The sun did not s-sh-shine-“
“No stuttering. Start over,” Lane instructs, Maya not daring a look up from the paper, but assuming by the unhappy sound of his voice that he had a red hue to his face to represent his anger.
“The sun did not shine,” she says, almost pausing at the word shine, but quickly recovering. Only losers make mistakes. “It was too w-“
Maya chanced a questioning look up at her father, not recognizing the word.
“Wet. Come on, Maya! I know i’ve taught you that word before,” Lane berates,
Maya’s eyes return back to her paper, swallowing hard as she focused on not crying. Winners don’t cry. Only weak people cry and she isn’t weak.
“It was too wet to play,” Maya states perfectly, feeling some confidence fill her body. “So we s-sat in the ho-hou-“
“For god’s sake,” Lane practically shouts, beyond frustrated at this point. “Read this page again and when you can get it right, you can have dinner.”
“Lane. She’s only six,” Katherine piped up from the corner. Challenging her dad wasn’t something that happenedfrequently.
Maya felt her body tense up, waiting for the inevitable remark, knowing that her mom standing up for her usually doesn’t end well.
“I know four year olds that read better than her. She’s falling behind. She needs to be the best. Only losers are behind,” Lane declares, causing Maya to tune them out, wanting to figure this out as fast as possible, the hunger of her stomach apparent.
“Maya?” Carina questions, pulling Maya from her head as she looks over at the brunette.
“Hm?” Maya asks, just now noticing the cold sweat that was forming on her skin.
“Are you okay? You zoned out for a minute,” Carina points out cautiously, knowing that this could all be very triggering for her wife.
Although, she had no desire to further stress Maya out if it’s not needed.
“I feel like i’m going to be sick,” Maya mutters and Carina sees how her skin tone gets many shades paler.
“Okay,” Carina says, jumping into doctor mode. She speed walks into the bathroom, wetting a cloth under cool water, bringing it back out and placing it on the back of Maya’s neck, hoping to help cool her down.
“Do you want some water?” She asks as Maya nods, her breathing starting to become short inhales through her nose.
“Just breathe, bambina,” Carina soothes as she runs to the kitchen, filling up a water bottle before racing back, handing it to the blonde who takes a few sips.
“Listen,” Carina starts, keeping her voice soft. “I want you to tell me this is making you uncomfortable. I can look at it on my own if that’s better for you.”
“No,” Maya answers, shaking her head. “No, I need to tell you.”
“Okay,” Carina sighs, not enjoying how disruptive this is for Maya, but ultimately understanding that this might be beneficial for her in the long run if she knows that she has someone to confide in that knows her whole history and isn’t her therapist.
“I kept making mistakes and he told me that I couldn’t eat dinner until I could recite a whole page without mistakes. It took me three hours and even though I did it correctly, he denied me food because he told me that I took too long,” Maya recalls, dabbing her hot face with the cool cloth that Carina provided.
“I guess it worked out in a way because I became the best reader and writer in my class. I even wrote the most book reports,” Maya says, although she showed no signs of excitement.
Every good memory from her past is now tainted. While it originally felt good to have written the most book reports, like she finally won at something, she doesn’t remember feeling proud of herself for writing all the reports, but rather for earning her dad’s love.
“When I was seven,” Maya starts, jumping into the next story. “There was a local race at the high school for ages eight to twelve for anyone who wanted to apply. Somehow my dad got me in, even though I was younger.”
“Go Maya!” Lane shouts, his voice standing out, even amidst the rest of the crowd.
Maya sprints as fast as her little legs could carry her, immediately overtaking the group, running faster than the rest of the girls.
She heard her dad’s cheers getting louder, telling her that she’s doing everything right.
She’s winning.
Crossing the finish line, her dad instantly wraps her in a hug, causing her to smile. She beams with pride at the sight of his grin.
Another man, someone Maya has never seen before, marches over to them, a look of pure amazement on his face.
“How old are you, kid?” He asks and before she could answer, her dad jumps in.
“She’s eight,” he replies and Maya frowns.
Just as she was about to remind her dad that she wouldn’t be eight for another three months and that she was only seven, she figured that he must’ve forgot.
“Wow,” the man states in shock. “I’m Adam Johnson, the track coach at this high school,” he introduces, shaking her dad’s hand.
“Lane Bishop, Maya’s father,” her dad responds as Maya stands idly by, listening in on the conversation.
“She’s got talent. I’ve never seen a girl her age run that fast. You better keep her running until she’s on my team,” the man jokes, however, Maya doesn’t think he’s actually joking.
“That’s the plan, sir,” her dad replies with a big smile, causing Maya to smile too.
She had won.
“He lied,” Maya states, almost whispering to herself at the revelation. She was too young to connect the dots back then.
“What?” Carina questions, her tone laced with confusion, not understanding what Maya’s talking about.
“The high school coach came up to my dad and I and told him that I was really good for my age and my dad told him that I was eight, not seven,” Maya explains. “I thought he just forgot, but he lied to get me in.”
Carina places her hand on Maya’s back, rubbing soothing circles to keep her calm.
She’s aware that everyday Maya’s making new discoveries of her childhood whether it be new memories or hidden lies. Sometimes she would share with her what they are, other times she kept it a secret.
Carina knew that she was thinking about her childhood though. She always had the same faraway look in her eyes. Though, she never pressed for more details.
The brunette glances back down at the paper, seeing the only line with colors other than red. The blue and green words sticking out against the simple red.
“What’s that?” Carina asks, pointing to the line.
Maya smiles, for the first time with these stories being shared. “I got my first pair of track shoes. They had blue stripes and green laces,” she shares with childlike excitement, making Carina chuckle.
“They were so cool,” Maya sighs contently, thinking back to when she picked them out at the store. “I think I cared more about the shoes than I did about the running.”
Hearing Maya admit to that sounded a little strange to Carina since she’s always known her wife to love running more than anything else.
To hear that she didn’t enjoy it growing up as much as she originally thought hurts her heart.
“My dad put me in cross country when I was nine. I hated it. I was with older girls, some of them were eighteen and preparing for their senior year. I would sometimes beat them and I think they were a little jealous,” Maya says, lightly squeezing her wife’s hand. “They used to make fun of me.“
“I’m sorry, my love,” Carina apologizes quietly, bringing their locked hands up to her mouth and setting a kiss to Maya’s knuckles.
“It’s okay. I mean, it makes sense,” Maya reassures. “No one wants a kid nine years younger than them beating them. It makes sense that I was made fun of.”
“No one deserves to be treated badly because of something like that,” Carina softly states. “No one.”
“I deserved it. I was cocky and-“
“Maya,” Carina interrupts, getting her attention. “No one deserves to be made fun of,” she repeats.
“I know,” Maya admits with a sigh, lowering her head in shame. “I wanted to quit. It was the first time I ever begged my dad to let me stop.”
“What did he say?” Carina asks carefully, already knowing that she’s going to regret it as she can predict the answer.
“That only losers quit. He didn’t let me eat for two days after that,” Maya states, her throat starting to become dry, leading her to take another sip from the glass of water.
Carina has never met Lane. She hopes for his sake that she never does because she has some unpleasant words to say to that man.
She hates him.
“I want to be done,” Maya confesses as she eyes the rest of the list. She’s starting to become overwhelmed and lost within all the bad memories. It’s all too much. “Can we be done?” She anxiously asks.
“Sí,” Carina nods. “Of course. Come here,” she says, holding her arms out, to which Maya sinks into her embrace.
“Ti amo tanto,” Carina whispers, holding her wife close as she feels tears land on her neck. “No matter what. I don’t care if you win or lose, i’m here, always. I love you even when you lose, bella,” she adds, sobs beginning to fill the room, coming from her favorite person.
Thinking back to what Maya said earlier about her first thought of winning was at three years old, she can’t help but picture a little Maya with blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and the sweetest smile that she’s ever seen.
And she can’t understand how anyone could hurt that kind, innocent girl.
Maya has shown her pictures from when she was younger and Carina has never seen anyone so cute in her entire life.
She wishes she could hold Maya in her arms like this and never let go, protecting her from everyone and anything bad in the world.
“Thank you for telling me stories from your childhood. I’m so proud of you,” Carina says, placing a kiss to the top of Maya’s head.
And even with the delicious smell of the lasagna waiting for them in the other room, Carina knows that there is no where else she would rather be than right here with Maya this close.
She may not be able to take away Maya’s bad memories, but she’s here now to listen and help her heal.
Together, they will continue to create new memories. Perfect memories.