For What It’s Worth.
I wrote so much about how I want to ask for an explanation over what happened and how it happened. But at the end of the day, you did what you did because you thought that was best for you. I’d like to believe you, that you’re not a bad person, that the person I fell in love with really does exist and that he won’t do anything to hurt me willfully. Those moments with you really felt amazing, it was truly when I felt the happiest. When I felt most loved and cared for. I was my most authentic and vulnerable self with you. Everything you’ve presented to me, I truly loved. I know that what we had was real because it healed me. I want to thank you for that, genuinely. I thought I finally found my forever person, who is truly in sync and similar to me. That there’s no compromise with you. Was. This is such an exceptional kind of pain, where do I turn to for comfort? No book, prose, or song can explain my pain. It’s like air is being pulled from my body. It’s like experiencing sleep paralysis, it’s scary and painful but I can’t do anything about it but watch and hope that it stops soon; and god, I wish it stops soon. I will continue to believe everything you’ve presented to me, because inquiring further as to why and how it all happened will just draw out the pain unnecessarily. I will take it as it is and walk away, it’s not like I have a choice.
I sincerely hope that you find the happiness that you deserve, that you will choose it whenever it presents itself. I can’t wait to be surprised and see your name on the shelves of my local bookstore or read about you and your works, and I will proudly tell people that you were once in my life. I want you to know that I will continue to root for you, no matter what.
To quote one of my favorite books – I’ve realized that no matter where you are or what you’re doing, or who you’re with, I will always honestly, truly, completely love you.
This is me letting you go.
Have a good life,
Will always be Yours.
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Lexa and Anya stood there unable to tear their eyes away from what they had just witnessed, Raven was doing up her shirt and clarke also doing up shirt. Bed sheet all over.
Anya turned to lexa who couldn't peele her eyes away, the hurt was growing by the second............
What happened after....?
I'm a sucker for angst 😅 sorry not sorry...gotta keep you on your toes 😋
You want angst?! I'll give you angst!!! [fire elmo.gif]
**
It as been exactly three weeks, four days and nine hours since they found out.
It's strange how much life hasn't changed; not as much as she thought it would. Through their pain, the world keeps spinning. Lexa awakes at seven in the morning still, drags her feet to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face in hopes of chasing the sleep away. The neighbor let's out the dogs into the yard, the usual sound of the barks at the cat that seems to enjoy hanging around their backyard act as the background sound of the egg cracking as she tries to stomach anything this early in the morning.
It is all the same, but the snoring she used to adore hearing isn't the same and it no longer comes from the opened door of their bedroom but the from the couch, lighter and more nasal, disguising the fact the sleeping woman as cried herself to sleep.
Lexa knew they were having issues. Not big ones or at least she thought, nothing that could possibly drive Clarke to seek comfort in someone else's arms. The house was still a mess of boxes and half unpacked things, clothes hastily throw over chairs, pots and pans adorning almost every surface visible, causing stress on them both. Lexa could also blame her lack of sex drive on that. She could blame it on her newly assigned position at work, that despite the better hours still left her exhausted and with little enthusiasm to do more than cuddle and sleep once she got home.
On second thought, maybe she was too blind to catch the signs. Or perhaps she simply convinced herself they were not signs at all.
She feels stupid. Silly for ever thinking a marriage with a wife that seemed so damn perfect could be anything other than a charade. Now that the fog of the anger as lifted, Lexa feels empty and hollow, left to wonder if she was to blame.
If she hadn't gotten sick in the afternoon, if she hadn't called Anya instead of Clarke to pick her up, if they had gone straight to Lexa's instead of stopping by Anya's first to retrieve her laptop, maybe everything would still be the same. If they hadn't walked in on their wives, both in the same state of undressed, looking as guilty as anyone can be. If nothing of that had happened then maybe they would still be together, blissfully and happily foolish in Lexa's ignorance.
"Is something burning?" From the couch, Anya's groggy voice asks and Lexa jumps to turn off the stove too late as the sides of her eggs gain a black color, her brand new frying pan ruined.
"Shit."
She hates Clarke for cheating. She hates her for making her feel this weak, this useless.
"Fucking shit!"
Lexa wishes she didn't love her still. That she didn't wake up in the morning hoping to feels her arms around her and her breathing on the back of her neck.
"Lexa, it's okay."
She still misses her so much. Her Clarke. It feels like she died, the woman she loved buried below the dirt and covered by layers and layers of betrayal. She wants her back yet the woman who calls and texts non-stop begging for Lexa to listen to her lies does not feel like Clarke at all.
"Hey, Lexa- Lexa! It's okay. We'll be okay!"
The eggs are burnt and her marriage is done and Lexa does not know which one of the two tragedies makes her breakdown more. But it's the fact that Anya hugs and and hides her tears from her that has her embracing the older woman back with as much force as she hugs her. Because Anya cries at night when she thinks Lexa as tired herself out with unpacking the house, out of habit arranging the furniture the way Clarke would have liked, only for the realization to hit before she excuses herself to bed. Because in her own pain she forgets Anya was hurt too and her focus on her friend is simply a distraction from her own pain.
They don't talk about it because it seems redundant. They both know what they saw, both got hurt the exact same way by a spouse and a friend. There is no point in asking Anya how she's doing, her eyes still reflect the same pain Lexa's do when she stares at herself in the mirror.
Anya moves around the kitchen awkwardly, not knowing where anything is - neither does Lexa really, if before it was an organized mess now it's nothing more than a mess. At least it suits her - but manages another frying pan and some new eggs, tossing them into it with two broken yolks.
"Have you told her yet?" Anya means well, but the question is cruel. Another distraction from her own pain, at the cost of Lexa's.
Lexa stares at the broken yolk as it spills over the whites "No."
"Will you?" Anya flips the eggs messily, already overdone.
Right. The four sticks and it's collective eight positive lines are still in the bathroom cabinet, hidden from sight as if it made it any less real. The real reason for the sickness, the lack of sex drive, the fatigue, the random outburst of emotion. The reason why they moved into a bigger house, the reason why Lexa's new promotion was so welcomed, the reason why Lexa called Anya and not Clarke, hoping to avoid suspicion until the next day, the fifth fucking stick with the 'hi momma!' written on it burning a hole inside it's small gift box abandoned in the back of her closet.
The eggs are passed unceremoniously into a plate for them to share, soggy and unappetizing. Lexa stabs it with her plastic fork, "Would you?"
Anya doesn't answer and Lexa cannot fault her for that, she herself doesn't know what the fuck she's supposed to do now. Anya and Raven's divorce will be clean and easy from a legal point. A rented apartment Raven can still afford on her own, separate accounts, no shared property aside from the stupidly expensive leather couch they hosted a whole house party to show off. No shared mortgage or joined bank accounts or a kid on the way Clarke doesn't even know about yet.
"You have other options."
Lexa feels a wave of nausea catch up to her at the implication. It's the little things she has learnt. Anya likes to pick up little fights with her as if she gets Lexa to scream at her she can scream back everything she wishes she could scream at Raven until she finally allows herself to breakdown completely and wholly.
"Fuck you Anya."
Anya shrugs and Lexa feels anger burning inside of her.
"You'll have to see her for the next eighteen years if you keep it." Her because Anya can't stand to say their names yet, it because its hers and Anya will never be able to look at Lexa's baby as anything other than that.
"I'm as hurt by this as you are Anya, don't you fucking dare act like I don't know what having this baby means."
She has been avoiding lashing out back, taking every hit Anya throws at her with the knowledge she's simply processing her own pain, the shifts between being overly helpful and fight picking a projection of that. They were friends long before Clarke and Raven entered their lives but try as they might, their betrayal as affected their friendship and living in closed quarters with each other as certainly not helped the strain.
Neither hear the faint sound of Lexa's phone ringing for the second time all the way up the stairs.
"You can just not tell her you know? I doubt she cares, she's probably too busy fucking my wife anyways."
Lexa's jaw locks in place, her teeth pressed together hard. Her tongue itches to defend Clarke, hat despite all her flaws is still the mother of her child and the woman she loves, to remind Anya that Raven is not without fault in this whole ordeal or she would still be living with her instead of crashing on Lexa's couch.
"It's still her baby."
"You're carrying it. She has no biological connection with it." Her words are bitter, like she's trying to convince herself of the veracity of it for her own sake.
"Anya..." Lexa warns through her teeth. She's not in the mood to fight someone else fight.
"What? She didn't give a shit when she cheated, so why should you give a shit about her?" However, Anya is blindly aiming to hurt, to throw her pain at someone, only to have to ricochet right back at her.
"She-"
"She made you weak!" A louder accusation this time, thrown at the mirror's glass that is Lexa, standing right in front of her.
"Stop it! Stop yelling at me like I'm Raven or Clarke! Stop trying to guilt me for wanting this baby! Fucking stop acting like you're not as broken as me!"
In the midst of the screaming, neither hear the door opening with dread nor the two pairs of footsteps that approach them for behind, afraid of what they might find once they reach the yelling.
"A baby?" Clarke. With deep dark circles around her eyes, the rosy cheeks Lexa adored now hallow and devoted of any color, so ghastly Lexa finds herself grasping the counter to prevent herself from reaching for her. "We're having a baby?"
"Anya..." Raven's broken voice comes from behind Clarke, the puffy red eyes unmistakable proof that she had been crying right before she entered the house.
While Lexa freezes staring at her wife's form - skinnier than she last saw her, only in her bra and jeans Lexa reminds herself - Anya can barely hold herself together at the sight of Raven's broken down state.
"I have to go... somewhere that's not here" It's mumbled and hoarse, the tears she has not let anyone seen her cry threatening to overflow as she bolts towards the door follow by a pleading Raven, so distressed in her crying Lexa would almost be convinced she carries the same pain her and Anya do.
And then, it's just her and Clarke.
"Are we-?" Clarke's words are barely out of her mouth when Lexa speaks up.
"Yes. We are." A confession that once upon a time Lexa had dreamed of yelling with joy, of jumping into Clarke's arms as she said it, now a whispered uncertainty as she stares at her soon to be ex wife three feet away from her, looking so out of place in her own kitchen like it was never hers at all.
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