« I am not known for giving second chances, Samantha... »
Cassidy says her name in the same airy resolute way that she would have said it two years ago. She's looking up at Samantha for the first time in two years, dressed in an all black skirt and peacoat ensemble that screamed 1940's fashion diva. She has one hand resting on the chair and the other is at her waist holding a silk clutch that match black silk heels. Only Cassidy would wear black silk shoes in the streets of Milan. Like a walking fashion show, complete with nude lipstick and inquisitive look.
« Did I disappoint? » Samantha answers sarcastically. She can feel the older woman's gaze over her. She wants nothing more than for the editor to hold her hand, or cup her face or hold her. Cassidy can see the thoughts racing in her ex-lover's head and she can see her take support on the walking cane on the chair next to her. Samantha had made a lot of progress indeed, she could now walk but needed a cane to lean on for support. She looked just as elegant if not more than before. Like a lady out of a Victorian book. Today she is wearing high waisted pants and a bow blouse. Her locks are blown out in large vintage curls and her doe like eyes gazed upward, pleading at Cassidy. Cassidy can be mean, she has a right to be so.
« Why did you lie to me, Samantha? » The editor asks around the table.
It is funny how sitting down for a coffee is always their way to hold an important conversation. Maybe because the warmth of a coffee is more comforting than anything else could ever be and it reminds them of good old times.
There is a minute of silence between the two ex-lovers. Samantha is resting on her elbow, her pale skin has grown tanner as the years went by and her hair had grown brown, probably because she stopped dying them. There is a dilemma in her heart, a side of her wants to reject the older woman and keep her away, the other one wants to tell her the truth and keep her with her forever.
« I didn't want you to be tied to me. » She says quietly, there is tiredness in her voice.
She is tired of all those years of being away from the woman she loves. She wishes it could be easy; maybe it would have been if she wasn't a woman; if she was fifteen years older and if her legs were not fucked up.
« That was my choice to make. » Cassidy scoffs defensively.
« I... wouldn't have survived if you decided to leave. » Samantha confesses. « perhaps I'm guarding myself. I was bracing for the moment you grew tired of wheeling me around town. Losing my job is okay, but losing you... » She can't finish her sentences, her words are bitter and opaque.
« But you can walk now. Am I right? » Cassidy corrects with a raised eyebrow.
« Not fully, but... I did make some progress. » Samantha nods, she sinks into the chair of that old fashioned Italian coffee shop.
« Then? »
« Then what? »
« Then why didn't you call? You could have met me to talk about it, to tell me your legs were doing better now. Do you really think so little of me after everything? You thought I would leave you just because you need a cane to walk? » Cassidy drops, her tone shows that she is hurting. Her words are bitter, they are meant to make Samantha regret.
Even the taste of the hot coffee can't clear Samantha's mind as she looks down at the table. Cassidy waits for an answer but she doesn't get one.
« Samantha? » She calls her name again with an insistant look.
Samantha looks away, all over the room, it doesn't matter where as long as she doesn't cross Cassidy's gaze.
« I don't know Cassidy, there was no guarantees I'd walk. » She excuses.
« So you thought I was superficial enough to grow tired of the woman I had sworn to love if you could not walk. Did you think I'd abandon you somewhere to let you do the maid's job while I would be going to some events outside? » Cassidy raises her voice but never yells.
« No. » The young dark-blond shakes her head with a little voice and shields her eyes from the setting sun.
« Then why did you do what you did? » Cassidy asks, her eyes full of need. She needs an answer. She needs to know where and why she failed.
« I... It was the right thing to do. » Samantha has trouble giving this answer as the need to burst out in tears suddenly catches her.
Looking back at it she doesn't know why she did it either; when she heard Cassidy walking into the hospital room she panicked and kissing Sally was the only thing she thought of to free her.
« You don't understand. »
« I just... » Samantha tries to argue but Cassidy cuts her again.
« You broke my heart, Samantha. »
Those words are the kind of words that glaces your blood, the kind you never forget as the pain is what immensely radiates from it. If your soul is kind enough those word will stay in the back of your head forever and haunt you to make you feel guilty about hurting someone that didn't deserve it.
There is no response from the younger woman, she simply keeps looking down, her eyes becoming more and more wet each time she feels Cassidy's gaze over her. Regret is what swims into her invisible tears. There's a semblant of movie that plays in her head, a little 90s romantic movie that's supposed to be watched on Valentine's Day. And they are the main characters of that movie, where they live happily forever after Samantha woke up from her long endless coma. This what was supposed to happen, sadly it didn't. Regret is a rope that's wrapped around her neck, it is suffocating and choking but she can not get her head out of it.
« And you broke Alexandra and Andrea's heart too. They love you and it isn't many people I let into my life, their life. You know that. » The older woman says deeply. « Can you imagine the look on their face when I had to tell them twice you were not coming home? And can you imagine how I felt too? You don't think I have feelings because I am older, divorced or for whatever reason? »
Samantha clicks her tongue in silence and purses her lips.
« I'm sorry. » She drops in a whisper full of pain and regret.
They sit in silence for a moment. A simple Sorry is not enough, but what is? A million sorry won't be enough either. What would be enough is a simple act of real love and trust.
« Sorry is not enough, Samantha. »
Perhaps Cassidy had always known it. She had realized it the moment she walked away from Sally in that coffee shop. She was upset and angry with Samantha and she thought of throwing the address away without looking. She couldn't. Because she has always known there was a slight of hope out there that they would meet again. Yes, for sometime, Cassidy really believed that it was all in her head, that all the kisses and conversations meant nothing for Samantha. But then, she shook her head and realized.
It was then that she realized that she had always known Samantha still loved her. She had known that there must have been a deeper reason. She had known that Samantha would protect her at all costs, even if it meant protecting her from herself. She knew it, because she had done the same when she found out about Sierra. She had protected Samantha against a possible future guilt. They had both been wrong, but that was love. Imperfect in its perfection. It had no rules and no answers.
« The question here is, what is enough then? » Samantha asks seriously with needy eyes.
For the first time, their eyes meet. Fiery blue and incandescent green meeting for the first time during the conversation, meeting for a lifetime.
« I don't know. » Cassidy shakes her head quietly. She has not even taken a simp of her coffee since its arrived, how sad it is Samantha had that much control over her. It's something that has never changed over the years, the fact that Cassidy loses all sense of control when she is with the younger woman. A coffee seems so superficial when she is sitting next to Samantha.
« You don't know if you love me? » Samantha asks but it sounds more like an affirmation.
« You think I flew out of New York and went to your house because I do not love you anymore? » Cassidy points out like it is obvious, Samantha nods.
« What then? What don't you know? »
There is a long pause and Cassidy sighs.
« I don't know why we are making this relationship so difficult. We could have been so happy for all those years, yet look at us. Why are we doing this? »
Cassidy has asked the question here. It's the question she's been wondering for years now and she's been dreaming about the day she could ask it out loud.
Samantha lets out a sigh, she knows it is her turn to explain now. Cassidy is right, they have both suffered enough, made mistakes, but now it's time to set it all so they could finally be happy together. Could they?
« I know you said sorry was not enough but I'm sorry. So sorry. I know we've both made mistakes and I made a huge, really huge one. I guess I did it because I was afraid of the future and for a moment I did doubt you would stay with me if I couldn't walk. I did doubt you would stay with me after I made you suffer so much by not waking up for a year and a half. But I know it now, I've always known it, I know you would have loved me no matter what and... » She stops and bites her lips to stop the tears from flowing, though she can't stop that one salt tear that escape from her ocean eyes. If you look close enough in those blue eyes you can see actual waves of sadness inside this ocean. She swallows and takes a breath before starting again. « And I feel terribly guilty about it. I didn't want to make you suffer, I guess I failed. »
Cassidy looks at the tear falling down on Samantha's cheek and she sees herself in it, in its reflection. She sees her younger self, perhaps not older than her 20s. It's her younger self that helps her understand the woman in front of her, because she has been like her too. In the end, they are very similar. Cassidy has grown now, but they are indeed similar, they are alike, like mates, soulmates. Soulmates. That is it, they are soulmates. It's like Samantha is the missing piece in Cassidy's puzzle and Cassidy is the missing piece in Samantha's puzzle.
A few other tears run over Samantha's cheeks and Cassidy can't help but grab her hand tightly on the table and hold it because she can not stand seeing the woman she loves cry. Samantha smiles at the gesture but do not point it out as she wipes some tears with her wrist.
« We both failed. » Cassidy whispers. « But we can try to do better now, can't we? » She says with a smile, a warm smile no one has probably seen since the last two years. That smile, only Samantha is allowed to see it, because she is the reason it exists.
Samantha's response is a simple nod and she sniffs, looking at the soft hand that holds hers. The older woman caresses Samantha's hand softly as she plunges her emerald eyes into hers, eyes that now reflect peace and appeasement.
« Come home with me? » She asks with a slight of hope in her voice.
Samantha tilts her head on the side as she hears those four words. A huge smile that she thought would never come back again appears on her face.
« I will always say yes to you. » She says with a chuckle as she remembers that sentence she told Cassidy some years ago. It is true, she would always say yes to her.
A part of her is scared to see what the future holds, but she chooses not to think about it as she leans forward to find Cassidy's red lips. It is when she finds the taste of her lips again that she knows no matter what the future holds, Cassidy will be by her side to face it. No matter the hours that are coming, good or bad, they would survive and overcome them.
« Good you accept, because I think we've waltzed around it long enough." Cassidy jokes when they break the kiss to get some air with an honest smile that can not be hidden even with all the strength in the world.
« I don't think so, we haven't waltzed enough. We have a whole life to waltz together. » She laughs as they get up and walk slowly down the street arm in arm.
« I'm a great dance teacher. » Cassidy laughs.
« Somehow, I think I will find out all those moves tonight. » Samantha whispers, Cassidy laughs heavenly and time seems to patch up as if not a day has passed since the last time they were together. That is life, just like that.
« So is this my second chance? » Samantha asks.
« This is the like fifth one, just don't tell the press. »