#calvak

It was the type of exhaustion she simply didn’t have time to entertain anymore. Not with the trial just around the corner, looming over her head like a dark cloud. Her arguments were mostly in order, now it was simply a case of reading, rehearsing, over and over until they flowed as naturally as her lunch order.

And it was mid-flow that afternoon that she was interrupted by the knock on the door she’d been waiting for.

Alex opened the door a fraction and poked her head through, a brow raising curiously. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” Rita pushed herself up from the desk and gestured toward the couch, “have a seat.” They both kept up the smiles, but Rita couldn’t help the rumbling feeling in her chest, one she hadn’t felt for many years now. Knowing that something she wanted was being slowly pulled away from her; and even if Alex weren’t the direct culprit, even if her and Casey’s crash landing were inevitable before the blonde even entered the picture; she did make a convenient channel for Rita’s frustrations.

“I just wanted to check in with you.” She started, letting out a small groan as she lowered herself onto one end of the couch and clasped her hands in her lap. She would hardly have believed this was the same body that got pulled into a rave just a few nights ago. “How are you doing?”

“I’m, good…” Alex replied with a slow nod, as if waiting for the next blow, for the real reason Rita called her over.

So the other woman cleared her throat, starting just in time before the air between them truly soured. “I spoke with HR, and we have the capacity to bring you on board as a Junior Associate as of next quarter, we’re just waiting on the board approving the budget…”

She watched Alex’s chest fall, her leg crossing over the other, her expression fixed into a point by the faint pout peeking through her lips. But Rita wouldn’t allow herself to falter just yet, to cave in to the younger woman’s consternation.

“So the ball is rolling,” she emphasized, “it’s just, unfortunate, that it can’t happen any sooner. But it gives us a chance to catch you up, get you up to speed on the sort of responsibilities you’ll have after the move.”

The blonde’s nostrils flared into a sharp breath. “… Such as?” She asked, the inflection almost leading.

“Well, some of the Associates are responsible for overseeing the intern cycles, doing a little mentoring…” Rita gulped. “Now, I did notice, that you’ve been spending some time with Casey outside the office…” She gulped again, her throat seemingly drying into hardened gravel. If she’d looked up, she might’ve noticed Alex’s mask finally eroding with hers. “… And obviously it’s not really my place,” her voice croaked, “but I just want to make sure you’re being careful—”

“Drop the act, Rita.”

And if she hadn’t been so stopped short by the interruption, she might’ve noticed the hint of pity in Alex’s voice.

“… Excuse me?”

“… I know, okay?” The blonde nodded, her eyes wide, sharp and knowing. “I know, what’s going on with you and Casey.”

Rita could’ve sworn her heart ground to a halt. And all that would flash through her memories were her, red hair and a complete succumbing to desire.

But Alex’s still-hardening stare pulled her back to the cold, harsh reality. The one where the jig was finally up, no matter how hard she tried to stay in the few seconds that had already passed. But alas, the silence only lengthened the time since her world tipped off its own axis.

She couldn’t look at the other woman any longer, a slow, steady breath finally settling the static in her chest long enough to ask. “… How?” Her eyes blinked open to the familiar harsh lighting, the not so familiar sunray bursting across the wall from the window behind them. “Did she tell you?”

“Not in so many words, but…” Alex uncrossed her leg and sat forward, clearing her throat. “We’ve been talking about going serious, and about declaring. But she mentioned she was still seeing someone else, that it was just physical, and, well,” she went quiet, her own gaze now dipped. “It didn’t take a whole lot else to put it together, actually.”

Was it that easy? Had it been that easy, the whole time? Could anyone in that office with an endless curiosity and a few minutes to spare have figured them out? Could her husband? Or was Alex simply taking full advantage of the privilege that was being in Casey’s company?

“You’re starting to sound like an attorney already…” Rita wanted to chuckle, but was simply too deflated, her own ego finally defeated. “Is that what this is about?” Her brows knitted tightly from across the couch. “Is this blackmail, for not promoting you fast enough?”

Alex shook her head, seemingly shocked by the insinuation. “No, no, not at all…” She took a beat, gathering herself again and looking the other woman in the eye. “I only want what I deserve, what I’ve worked hard for. Not what’s given to me to silence me. That might’ve been how it worked back in the day but that’s not what I’m trying to do here.”

Her voice had lowered to an almost repulsed mutter. Hopefully about the culture she was luckily too young, or simply too sheltered by her boss, to ever experience firsthand.

Rita could only huff out a sigh as the walls closed in around her. “… Sure sounds like it, Alex.”

The blonde’s hands fidgeted with each other in her lap. With the bombshell out of the way, she knew the fallout would take a little more subtlety. “I know how hard you worked to get here, which is why I have absolutely no interest in taking you down. My God,” she practically scoffed, “you’re one of the few women in this field that actually made it to the top! And I want you to stay there as much as you do. But not as you are now, not like this. Rather as someone I can look up to.”

It made Rita pause. The idea of such a fall from grace, even just in the eyes of Alex, was something she hadn’t considered. They were always so careful, except they clearly weren’t. It was like she’d propelled all the way back to that dive hotel room, bent over the edge of the bed, worrying about all the ways she and Casey could go wrong but staying on her knees regardless.

Like she’d forgotten every lesson Casey taught her. Or maybe they weren’t lessons at all. Maybe she just always was the domineering, bratty bullshit artist Rita had clocked her for on the very day they met.

Alex’s stare would not break when she finally went in for the kill. “You will not see Casey again.” She demanded. “You will be a good leader, and a role model for all of us.”

Rita wasn’t sure how long she sat on that couch after Alex left. It could’ve been minutes, but she also watched the sunlight move across the wall until her thighs were numb.

That ending she’d been anticipating with bated breath, it was finally coming for her. And while she was almost certain of Alex’s discretion, she knew it would be wise still to at least entertain her own doubts. That if Alex could discover them so easily, then it really was only a matter of time before someone else did.

And it really did have to end. And if it really had to end, she was going to do it right. So she finally willed her aching legs from the couch to grab her phone from the desk and text the only person she ever trusted more.

Can we talk later?

So it was on their living room couch that night, with the girls in bed and darkness long taken over, but a single lamp in the corner illuminating her face, that Rafa joined her side. Still in his work clothes, suit jacket shed and sleeves rolled up, he really was the most dependable image she’d known since her own parents.

And now she had to look him in the eye, and tell him she’d betrayed that.

“Rita, what’s going on?” His eyes always sparkled so much brighter than hers, even if partly lit by the concern behind them.

He moved to take her hand into his lap but she waved him away before he could touch her. She didn’t deserve that, for what she was planning to confess.

“Ever since I was little,” her voice came out quieter than she’d planned, almost mumbling. “I’ve had these… these, thoughts.”

The lines between his brows deepened. “What kind of thoughts?”

She shook her head to herself, like she could will them out of existence, while her gaze remained set in her own lap. “… Dark, dark thoughts.” She gulped, still working up the courage to so much as look at him. “I thought, that if I worked hard, I could control them. And I— I went to all that therapy because I thought— I thought it was about my childhood, all that stuff—”

He could see his wife starting to spiral, the way she screwed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Look Rita, I—” He reached for her again regardless, forcing her back into the room. “I understand, okay?” He gave their hands a gentle squeeze, speaking softly, “I understand, you’re under a lot of pressure right now—”

But his composure, his sympathy – coupled with his goddamn interruptions – were only serving to frustrate her, to risk her saying the wrong thing far too soon out of an unjustified anger. And no matter how many times he’d irritated her over the years, he still didn’t deserve that. He deserved a leveled, reasonable, explanation.

“Please listen to me, Rafi.” She squeezed their hands back. “Just, just listen.”

The air grew still while she thought of her next move. Because no matter how many times she’d rehearsed it to herself on the ride home from the office, no version sounded right. No version could strike the balance; guilty enough without sounding desperately pitiful, nor logical enough without sounding cold-blooded. She talked for a living, made this life with him by spinning the city’s most egregious into palatable stories. Yet explaining this still felt above her skillset.

“I know we, we’ve done— we do, a lot of… stuff, maybe not so much anymore,” she backtracked a little on the insinuation, “but… it’s not enough.” She sighed to herself, “it’s never been enough, I think you know it too.”

There was a reason their arrangement had worked for this long. That no matter who they fell into bed with out there, the other would always be waiting for them behind the security blanket that was their marriage. That she was always free to explore whatever with whomever and set her own limits. But even now, with the looming dread of the past few months coming to light, there was still a cloud in the back of her mind; one that couldn’t decide whether she’d gone too far, or simply not far enough. Was she only sorry now she and Casey had been caught? Would they have worked through her doubts and came out the other side, ready to go further? What really were Rita’s limits, now that her eyes had been opened by the woman she least expected?

And she could tell her husband was trying his best to understand, he truly was. He of course had brought his own experiences to the table over the years, ones that certainly weren’t a closely guarded secret, but they were never really something she cared for the details about. If he was happy, she was happy, and that was the extent of it.

He always did have a much more caring eye than his wife. Whether in her career or their personal life, she had a habit of not knowing when to stop, even to her own detriment.

He took a breath of his own, his eyes refusing to budge from hers no matter how hard she tried. “I’ve been worried about you for a while, Rita, it’s like you’re barely even here." He sighed, "and normally I’d be okay with that, but the girls are starting to notice.”

Her face fell flat, her mental priorities clearly taking a one-eighty shift. “What? What are the girls saying?”

“Ginny thinks your job is killing you.” He stated it so matter-of-fact, as if he weren’t shattering the illusion with his bare hands. “And Lucy misses her mom.”

She started to sniff, realizing that no, it had gone too far. Those two were always the priority. Maybe if her brain hadn't been so messed up over the weekend, her late night heart-to-heart with her eldest might've registered as something meaningful. But it didn't, and now she was paying the price.

“The girls come first, that’s what we always said.” He agreed with the thought she didn’t dare say aloud anyway. “So whatever it is you’re doing right now, whoever you’re doing it with – this, this mystery woman? It needs to stop,” he demanded. “You said it yourself, you have too much at stake.”

Her head was in her hands now, elbows digging into her thighs. How close he was to getting it, without understanding at all. “That…” She groaned. “That’s not what—"

“Look, why don’t you take some time before the trial?” He reached around her back, the comforting touch much more reassuring than she was certain she deserved. “Call for a car, head out to the house for a few days, clear your head.”

She sat up again with another groan, “I can’t, Rafi, I don’t have time—”

“The world is not going to explode because Rita Calhoun took a few days off.” He said, “you have plenty of people that can hold down the fort, most of the hard work is already done.” He was close enough for his soft whispers to make her shudder. “Just think about yourself, for once.”

He was right. Of course he was right. Even if he didn’t know just how long she’d been putting her own desires first anyway, she couldn’t have picked a worse time to finally give in, to finally inflict them on herself. And she was driving herself closer and closer to the edge every day she ignored that.

So she set up her automated email replies, made one more awkward phone call to Alex, and kissed her babies goodbye as they left for school in the morning, before calling for a car and waiting out the drive over to Easthampton.

She hadn’t been out there alone in years, and never for more than a few hours to check on renovations, or assess the damage after a bad enough storm. The place echoed too loudly when it was just her, the high ceilings making her lightheaded. Their cleaner must’ve not long visited, with the vague, lingering chemical scent following her through every room.

She tried to keep her mind busy, picking up groceries for herself from the market, or starting, and restarting, and restarting one of her fiction books from the shelf, or watching the TV on the wall-mounted screen that was just too large for only her eyes to be upon it. Not seeming to grow hungry, or tired, even as night fell again. Even as she changed into her comfier cotton loungewear, even as she forced herself to do something in the kitchen, even if that was just prepping a pot of decaf coffee to perhaps spur on something more inspired later.

Waiting on the pot to fill up and pulling down a mug from the cabinet, Rita found herself staring out the window, into the void that was their backyard at night. The nearest lights from the surrounding houses, from the surrounding streets, all obscured by tall trees, even the moon would struggle to break through were she not also dulled by dense cloud that evening.

It was an almost perfectly still image, only occasionally shattered by the movement of the branches in the wind, and of the tall figure lingering out there in the dark.

Rita's eyes widened, her heart jumping into her throat but her body somehow refusing to fright. It stayed frozen like prey while her mind raced ahead, unsure whether to reach behind herself for her phone first, or in front of her for a knife from the drawer. Until she saw that familiar flash of auburn, and the rest of the mystery silhouette fell into perfect place.

She rushed around the counter and out of the kitchen, passing the place at the dining table where that woman had sat just a few months before, and throwing open the back doors so forcefully she worried for a brief moment about shattered glass. But not enough to look back, not enough to stop herself while she marched across the lawn.

“What are you doing here?! Are you out of your fucking mind…?!”

She made sure to project her yelling just loud enough for Casey to hear, but not so loud as to arouse the neighbors beyond the perimeter fence. If they were around, they had a rather bad habit of not minding their own. That was if any of them were even around in the first place, such was the way in the area.

Maybe the illusion had shattered now, but the closer she got, Casey appeared to look even more vulnerable in the dark. Whatever emotion lay behind her eyes was almost impossible to interpret with just the glow of the house to guide behind them. And in all-dark running gear with her hair scraped back, her bare face appeared even more plump and youthful, much to Rita’s chagrin.

“I heard you were out here,” the redhead didn’t need to raise her voice as much, “that the girls aren’t around—”

“You do not mention my girls.” Rita hissed, finally stopping just out of reach.

Casey seemed to just stare for a beat, but there was no right moment to start, not with those dramatic introductions. “… Alex knows about us.”

“I know, she talked to me.” Rita folded her arms over herself to keep out the chill of the nearby sea air. “Where does she think you are right now?”

But Casey wouldn’t answer, the silence again doing a good enough job at that for her.

So Rita just turned aside, nodding back toward the wide open door. “Get inside, it’s freezing.” She commanded, and much to her surprise, Casey complied with no follow-up, trudging ahead of her back over the lawn and into the warmth, only turning back when she heard the soft padding of Rita’s bare feet back on stone flooring.

“You’re angry.” She noted, from the rather obvious scowl creeping through Rita’s face.

“Well no shit, I’m angry.” The other woman muttered, sliding the door closed behind them and taking her time to lock it.

“Angry you got caught—?”

Rita turned on her heel, the key in her hand making a convenient pointer toward the redhead now hovering by the kitchen. “That we got caught.”

Casey watched her walk right by again, into the kitchen and tossing the key onto the island, watched the newly free hand raking through her hair in frustration. “… Alex already promised me she wouldn’t say anything.”

Rita tried to hold back the scoff at that, finally willing herself to look at the younger woman in the brighter light. “Everybody’s got a price.”

“… I don’t.”

Her face was too sincere, her posture too rigid. Rita almost believed her, were it not for the decades of experience, of a life lived and suffered, under her own belt.

“Yes you do,” she retorted, “you just don’t know how much it is yet… I will not be taking the fall for this on my own.”

“And how do you think that’s going to look?”

But the fear tactics meant nothing now. No longer were they a thrill, an extra perk of the package. All that early ruminating was finally paying off, in the form of making her numb to any consequence Casey could conjure up.

Rita had to take a steadying breath. “… I’m not doing this anymore. No more calling, no more texting,” she had started out with a slight wobble in her throat, but gained her footing while everything she’d rehearsed in her head started to tumble out. “And no more showing up at my goddamn house! I’m done, I’m out, I… I don’t consent—” She practically sneered, “that’s what you’re supposed to say now, right? Right?!”

“So,” Casey furrowed a brow, stepping closer, “is this it?”

“Yeah,” the brunette huffed, “this is it. I have far too much to lose, now.”

“This was always what you had to lose,” Casey stepped closer again, “that hasn’t changed—”

Rita wanted to scream, to roar until her throat hurt. But Casey was close enough now that her words could only melt into a pathetic plea. “Don’t play those fucking games with me…”

But Casey husked in her ear while one of her hands found itself creeping around Rita’s side. “You have no idea just what you do to me…”

Straying close to temptation was always a risky business when they were alone, the heat between them just too irresistible. They always knew where the line was, the problem was just how willing they were to cross it at the mere sight of the other.

Rita tried to stay focused, tried to remind herself of the life she’d built in their surroundings, without her. She could live without her, she was so sure of it. “Casey I can’t—" She sighed at the light, supporting touch. "I can’t do this anymore, I—” Her whispers caught in her throat, but so easily faltered with the other woman’s lips hovering so close. “I can’t… I can’t…”

Close enough to notice she’d changed her perfume. From that intoxicating, warm jasmine cocktail, to something lighter, sweeter and citrusy. Nothing like what enraptured her in the first place, but fighting through it for the sake of feeling something, anything, for just one, final, time.

“Then let me say goodbye…?” Casey rasped just as quietly, and Rita finally caught a glimpse of it just once more: that dark spot, behind the otherwise innocuous brightness of her stare, the one that always compelled her into giving Casey anything she wanted.

She took the parting of the younger woman’s lips as an invitation to receive her own, pulling them together where they stood and secretly relishing in the relief.

Casey was guiding her by the hips again, backing her into the counter, pushing her up and onto it. Gently enough to keep Rita comfortable, but still with enough force for the brunette to gasp into their kisses, inviting Casey into her with the spreading of her knees, revealing the gaping of her loose cotton shorts.

So lost in Casey’s touch, in the soft kisses being laid into her neck, her eyes only shot open again on hearing a sound neither of them were making. Not human, but mechanical; an engine, creeping closer, and stopping. And a glare of white headlights bursting through the glass by the front door, flooding the room and casting large shadows of their two bodies molded into one across every wall.

The brightness caught Casey off-guard too, pulling herself out and away from the other woman. “What the hell—?”

“Oh, shit—" Rita slid down from the counter, hurriedly adjusting her clothes into being presentable again.

“I thought you were here alone?!”

“I was,” she insisted, “he must’ve driven over, just, wait here…”

Completely distracted from her company now, her feet raced down the hall while her hands smoothed down her hair, rushing to the door before Rafa ever had a chance to open it for himself, just managing to catch him at the threshold of the dark front steps and even darker driveway.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, eyes wide. “Is it the girls?”

“No, no, no, they’re fine, they’re at my mom’s. I just… I don’t like how we left things, I wanted to check in.”

“You should’ve called, I…” she hesitated for an answer, sighing into a slowing heartrate, although suddenly very aware of the slickness between her legs. “Now’s really not a good time.”

His brow dropped. “Why… not?”

But neither needed to answer while an echo of something; maybe a footstep, maybe a creaking floorboard, projected out into the calm, quiet street from behind her; louder than it ever would have during the day.

“Rita,” her husband’s face fell flat. “Who’s in there with you?”

[view on ao3]

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Jury selection for the unlawful surveillance trial was in two weeks, and she’d thrown herself into getting the paperwork in order. Piles and boxes of them, in fact, dotted all over her office in some semblance of a system, only growing as the rest of the team filed out for the weekend and the sky grew dark outside, daylight swapped for twinkling dots in the skyline denoting life in the outside world.

She was just about ready to throw in the towel for the night, caught between deeper and deeper rabbit holes that she just didn’t have the energy to pull all-nighters for anymore. Maybe in her earlier days when she was so desperate to impress, so desperate to disprove the caricature of her the senior partners had embedded in their minds. But now, this could simply wait until morning, until she had a much more sensible head on her shoulders, following a full night’s rest and several cups worth of caffeine in her system.

She stood from her chair, in a silence so thick she could hear the hinges squeak as she pushed herself up and padded to the window, the glow from the building across the street splashed across her face.

That was when she got the call, spotting the screen light up on the desk behind her through the reflection, she turned back and picked it up, pausing at the name that appeared. After their last conversation, what else could she possibly want at this hour that wouldn’t leave Rita in that perpetual state of confusion, as she always did? The one she finally managed to fuck Rita into ignoring?

Maybe that was why she answered before thinking.

“Hi.”

‘Hey… I want to see you tonight, baby…’

It was just like old times, her voice dripping like honey through the phone, every indiscretion seemingly forgotten. She definitely only ever wanted one thing when she spoke to Rita like that.

“And you’re sure Alex won’t mind?”

She hoped she could remind Casey in the inflection just how much it still hurt, even within their own casual boundaries.

‘She’s not here… I’ll text you where I’m at, okay?’

“Okay.”

The banner appeared on her screen as she hung up, showing a message from Casey with a map link.

“What the f—?”

Not only was it none of their previous haunts; it wasn’t even a bar, or a hotel, or anywhere she would even consider meeting for their usual reasons.

It looked like it was somewhere on the edge of Brooklyn, so close to the edge that it might well have been on the water. If she remembered correctly, she was sure the exact spot was in the middle of a substation. Or maybe a park. And if it weren’t Casey luring her there, she would also be sure she was being lured to her death.

And then popped up a reminder of why it all made her borderline nauseous, that whatever the hell was going on between her and Casey would inevitably be thrust into the light. With the next incoming call, this time from her husband.

She only hesitated a second longer over his name, but she hesitated nonetheless, before answering.

“Hey, sorry, I haven’t had a chance to call—”

‘Working late again?’

“… Yeah.” She sighed. “Just, court’s getting closer, there’s a lot to look over—"

‘Isn’t that what your intern’s for?’

The acknowledgement of the girl’s existence outside Rita’s head only unsettled her more. The idea that he would one day know not only what she’d been doing, but who she’d been doing it with.

She turned back from the window, scanning the organized mess of her office.

“This is the biggest case of my career, Rafi. It has to be perfect.” She cleared her throat. “I have to make sure it’s perfect.”

‘I get that.’

He didn’t sound angry, or even mildly irritated. He understood their grind, just how intense the next few months were going to be. Which only made Rita feel even worse about the betrayal.

“I love you…” She reminded herself. “Don’t wait up.”

The view of the cityscape shrinking as the Uber crawled further along the bridge was a sight Rita had quickly grown tired of in her life. Her eyes were instead fixed on the screen, watching the map while her location inched slowly toward the pin.

The driver soon turned off the streets she knew and starting winding through the backroads she didn’t, snaking alongside storage units on paths made narrow by work vehicles abandoned for the night, until it finally opened out onto a vast, empty parking lot.

It couldn’t be here. But in the time it took her mind to form the idea that maybe her driver had ulterior motives, the robotic announcement from his own phone declared that they’d reached your destination. Combined with Rita’s phone showing the two location pins side by side, she looked out into the dark for any other signs of life to no avail.

“This is us, ma’am.” The driver declared, his thick accent the only small comfort for Rita in the confusion.

She unbuckled and shuffled with a small groan to peer between the front seats for a better view. Just more empty parking spaces, then a small ledge opened out into a vague darkness beyond the reach of the streetlights. She knew from the map that the water was just to her left, or just ahead, or just ahead to her left, somewhere.

“Are you sure?” She asked, her eyes narrowing, straining.

“I think your partner you’re meeting might be over there.” He nodded out toward black, where a vague, sturdy structure was just outlined in her vision.

Something moved around it, toward it, and she startled when two figures rushed past the car, holding hands. They went straight for the edge of the parking lot, hopped down into the abyss, and ran until they disappeared behind the obstacle.

“I guess so.” She moved back to get her own door, but not before reaching into her pocket for the twenty she’d already looked out and slipping it into his hand. “Gracias.”

She retraced the couple's movements out toward the dark, her heels echoing on concrete, down stone steps until her feet landed precariously on pebbles. She should’ve been able to hear the rush of the water to her left, but her ears instead filled with a strange vibration, over and over, beating almost in time with her racing heart.

She could feel it through her shoes, the rhythmic thumping that she drew closer to with every step, toward the glow leaking out the side of what turned out to be a metal shipping container, large enough to host all the other bodies wandering in and out of the opposite side, in all directions, and who were dressed to party.

She cannot be fucking serious?

But through plastic curtains, she seemed to step into another, darkened world. 

The stifling heat, the smell of common sweat and something stale wasn’t even what offended her senses the most. The thrum of EDM physically pulsating in her ears forsaking all other sound, was probably closest, although she was pretty sure she could make better music by throwing a trashcan down a flight of stairs.

The hot lights and lasers flashed violently over and around her face, exposing her for all who weren’t too busy living in the moment, jumping and bobbing around with their hands – or their phones – in the air, or not-so-subtly passing little baggies to each other like they were going out of fashion.

This wasn’t even her sort of scene back when she was young, free and careless enough to frequent it. She lingered at the back of the room, unsure how to move or what to even look at, just hoping no one would notice her, already plotting her way home.

She reeled as she thought about the power this woman still held over her, that she could still persuade her to show up at a place like this, with a dress code of Berghain-casual and condensation dripping down the walls.

Under it all, she still couldn’t catch her name being screamed at the top of someone’s lungs.

“Rita…!”

No, she had to wait, until the approaching figure in her peripheral instinctively demanded her attention, bounding over with a brand of enthusiasm Rita almost didn’t recognize on her.

“You made it…!”

Casey’s pitch-black halter crop top and miniskirt absorbed most of the light, while the rest bounced off her exposed skin in flashes of reds and blues and purples. Her hair was mostly down and frizzed from exertion, save for two high pigtails that reminded Rita of a space hopper, the way they swished as she leaned down and swaddled Rita in a suffocatingly tight embrace.

Rita might’ve stumbled back in surprise if they weren’t being increasingly swallowed up by the crowds. They weren’t huggers, usually. They’d only ever had their hands around each other for balance until then.

She didn’t know this woman at all. They really were just playing pretend, schoolgirls behind the bleachers.

“It’s loud in—!”

She just started to speak before realizing her mistake. It had been so long since she’d set foot in even a vaguely-raucous bar, one where she didn’t have a hope in hell of being heard over the speakers.

“What—?!” Casey felt the breath in her ear of Rita trying to say something and turned it to her.

“I said it’s loud in here…!” She screamed, feeling her voice break in her throat as she did so. “Is this even legal—?!”

“You think this isn’t gonna last…?!” Casey yelled right back, ignoring her more immediate concerns. “Then act like it…!” Her hands slid pointedly down to the other woman’s hips, “loosen up a little…!”

Casey managed to peel her away from the wall and in toward the main swell of the crowd. The younger woman seemed to blend straight back in, her body having no trouble keeping to the beat. Unlike Rita, who despite her best efforts, still felt so exposed that she refused to move any faster than a light sway. Everyone surrounding them were at least half her age, if not more. She didn’t belong here.

Even taking into account the outfit, the hair, and the chaos reveling around them, there was still something off about Casey. Rita had seen her drunk, she’d seen her on weed, but this was still something else. The way her smile seemed to settle deep into her jaw, with a bright sparkle in her eye even under the lights, that Rita just couldn’t place.

She leaned up into Casey’s ear again. “Are you high…?!”

“You wanna find out…?!” Her hand had already dove into her top before she’d even finished speaking, Rita spotting a flash of the baggie before she fully concealed it in her hand in a sweep, almost too expertly.

With a finger of her free hand she beckoned Rita closer before it disappeared between them, presumably to dab a dose onto it.

“You gotta start slow…”

Rita read every word from her lips, her mind so attuned to every order that ever dripped from them that she could still hear Casey crystal clear through the noise.

“Open…”

Her jaw slacked on command, Casey’s finger quickly reappearing before disappearing again into her mouth, running something gritty along her gums. Their eyes refused to leave each other’s, even as Casey paused for Rita to suck on the fingertip, licking up the remnants of bitter powder.

“… Good girl.”

The brunette felt herself being tugged closer again, and before it even had a chance to kick in, it was as if she’d already surrendered her body to her senses. Guided only by the rough bass pounding her eardrum, and the softness of Casey’s tongue in her mouth, and hands gripping her tight around the waist, keeping her upright against the waves of people with every surge from her lips.

Time didn’t seem to matter, again, the music weaving each moment into the next, until the lights started to twinkle like the night sky. Until every joint in Rita’s body seemed to loosen, limbs tingling, but free and light enough to move without a care. It might’ve counted as dancing, but she didn’t care to check.

She would occasionally catch Casey’s eye. The other woman had a glow about her that finally made sense, blending so perfectly with the people around them yet still bright enough to capture all of Rita’s attention. She’d seen her relaxed, but never this carefree, not caring what direction her hair swayed while bouncing around to the beat.

Maybe she was right. Maybe she was what Rita needed, if only temporarily. To learn how to meet her own needs through whatever shit life could throw at her. To remember that she still deserved to let go when she needed to, to be lifted up and treated as the goddess she was.

Casey reached for her hand, pulling her out of their makeshift row and toward the back again. “Come on, let’s go…”

The night was even deeper when the reemerged into reality, the comparative quiet exacerbated by the ringing in Rita’s ears. Walking back along the pebbles, the redhead linked their arms tighter for balance, keeping hold of her even as they stepped back up to the parking lot. The further they got from the music, the more the sound of crashing waves took their place, over all other signs of life; the parking lot still abandoned, even the distant road noise of the inbound journey was just a memory.

Casey seemed content with just strolling the barriered perimeter for now, stopping to peer over the metal poles, admiring how even the darkest of the waters could still reflect the tiniest hints of moonlight. Or maybe it was just the reflections from the buildings across the Hudson.

“You ever find yourself fighting the urge to just, take the plunge?” She asked, almost innocently, still staring below.

Rita joined her in looking out, but cut short the younger woman’s admiration of the abyss. “Oh, you don’t want to do that, it’s filthy in there.”

That seemed to tickle Casey in some way, letting out a loud, snorting cackle that propelled her back up straight. But it tickled Rita too, sending them both into fits of re-infectious laughter where they stood, collapsing into one another until they finally slid to the ground, their backs leaning against the cold railings, but close enough to keep each other warm against the gentle sea breeze.

Casey let out a sigh to catch her breath, sniffed, and rubbed at an itch on the end of her nose with the heel of her hand, reminding Rita that they weren’t exactly in a sensible enough state to address the elephant in the room.

“So what was that you gave me in there, molly?” She asked, instead.

“M-hm.” Casey nodded. “Shitty cut though, I can’t even feel it.” She grumbled, even if her jaw disagreed.

“What happened to wanting to feel it all?”

Casey’s eyebrows went on a journey; furrowing when she tried to recall, and quickly raising again when she remembered.

“Oh, I only meant that for sex. This stuff…” She groped at herself until they both heard the rustling of plastic, reaffirming the baggie was still tucked safely in there. “This is probably the closest feeling you can get to sex in public, without getting my plastic cock out.”

Rita wanted to laugh again, she really did. She wanted her heart to race at the memories, of all the times Casey brought her such pleasure with that thing, with her fingers, with her tongue.

But it was all tainted now. With the impermanence, with the idea that Casey could bulldoze through her very sense of self and just, move on like that.

“I can’t imagine Alex being too happy with you still talking to me like this.”

Casey averted her gaze to the ground at the mention of her name, her mouth forming a line impossible to read.

Rita’s voice lowered to a murmur, her eyes widening in its place. “Do you do with her what you do with me?” Her head tilted, waiting desperately for an answer.

“No, she’s not like that…” Casey's head shook slowly, coaxing herself to finally look the other woman in the eye again. “What Alex and I have, and what you and I have, it’s… different.” A soft hand came up to tuck Rita’s hair, now drying from the perspiration, behind her ear. “They’re just different… Like you and your husband.”

It was a fraction of an apology, a piece broken off and sanded down into something more palatable than the ugly truth; that they were just as deceitful as each other.

But it was still too rough for Rita to swallow whole, with the fatigue creeping into her bones. She turned and saw Casey stifle a yawn, the honesty seeming to bring them back to earth, with a landing as cold and hard as the concrete they sat on.

“Who are you here with?” Rita asked.

Casey looked confused again. “… You?”

“Were you on your own before I got here?”

“It’s fine, I’ve done it before.” The redhead seemed to brush off all concern with a flicker in her wrist. “These guys, almost everyone’s a friend.”

But Rita didn’t like the sound of that almost, pulling her phone from her pocket. “… I’m calling you a cab.” She pulled herself up to stand with a groan, the simple task of a phone call demanding a lot of her focus, now.

“… Rita?”

She looked back and down while it rang, to Casey still sitting on the ground, legs splayed out like a ragdoll, her face shining from sweat.

“Are we okay?”

She wasn’t used to Casey being the one asking the questions, being the one so uncertain, so rattled. It had to have been the drugs in this instance, but it still wasn’t a good look on either of them, it turned out.

“Yeah,” she forced a pursed smile. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

Not forgiven, not resolved. Just okay.

Rita still felt oddly wired sneaking back into the apartment that night. She hadn’t taken molly since that one time in college, back when meaningful rest was more concept than necessity anyway. Her heart raced and every step seemed to echo louder than usual, tiptoeing past the stairs until safely in the kitchen. She padded around in the dark, sliding off her heels to take upstairs later and dumping her purse on the counter.

Her scratching throat called for water, a glassful of which straight from the faucet was gone faster than the time it took to pour.

It was the second glass she almost spilled when she turned to see a human-shaped shadow over at the breakfast table, only slightly comforted by it having the same hair and build as her eldest.

“Oh Jesus Christ, Ginny—" The glass was slammed onto the counter for Rita to flick on the cabinet lights, bright enough for the time of night. “What are you doing still up?”

Her daughter sniffed, and only then did Rita spot the smudges of her eyeliner, matching the dark spot on the sleeve of her baggy sweater. “… I’m worried about you, mom.”

Her voice choked, and it sent Rita rushing to meet her, aching feet be damned.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m okay…” She took the chair beside, bringing Ginny in close with an arm around her. “You don’t need to worry about me…” She whispered, leaving a small kiss in her hair. “It’s my job to worry about you, alright?”

Ginny stayed silent for a moment, partly accepting, until she sniffed again. “… You’re all sweaty.” She stated, muffled by the embrace.

“I know.”

“Well, why’re you all sweaty? Were you out?”

“Just a flush.” Rita sighed, her hand slowly patting Ginny’s back. “The joys of getting older.”

She seemed to accept that on its face, unfurling herself and sitting up again. “Are you and dad getting divorced?”

It took Rita aback. There was never any chance of that happening, even if their kids would never fully understand why. “Of course not. What made you think that?”

“It’s just,” Ginny sniffed again. “Marie said, with her parents, it started with her dad being away all the time, always working, and…” Her head started to shake, tears brimming. “I don’t know—”

“No, no that’s not what’s happening.” Rita’s hand stroked at her daughter’s back again. “We've just been so busy. But it’s almost done, I promise. Sweetheart, look at me.”

Ginny seemed to gulp before turning to look her mom in the eye.

“We’re okay.” Rita mustered as much firmness as she could through the exhaustion. “Your dad and I are okay.”

Ginny nodded, at least acknowledging it, before collapsing her head into her arms on the table. Whether she’d stayed up all night, or woken up and noticed her mom still wasn’t home, the fact she was old enough to even notice these things now was something Rita figured they’d have to reckon with now: her actions having consequences.

“Tell you what,” she continued, “this should all be wrapped up for spring break. Why don’t we all go away that week, the four of us—?" she watched Ginny perk up, answering the question before it was even asked, “—and Marie, too. Wherever you guys want to go, just name it.”

Her daughter’s face brightened, enough so for her to sit up again. “Fiji?!” She asked, eyes wide and grinning.

Rita paused. They were doing well for themselves, but even that might’ve been pushing it.

“… Wherever we all want to go,” she settled for. “Have a think about it. Until then, it’s bedtime.”

[view on ao3]

----------

So when Lucy’s birthday rolled around, the priciest item on the list was the two-tier, custom-order cake covered in all shades of pink and vintage-style frills, complete with fondant ballet pumps on top. 

It stood pride of place in the middle of their kitchen counter, blown-out candles still smoldering, among the lunch spread put on by Rafa and his mom; where kids from school, from Lucy’s dance class, and their parents alike helped themselves. Ginny and Marie were keeping themselves busy in a faraway corner of the apartment, holding their plates with one hand and covering their mouths to whisper to each other through the other, noses crinkling with stifled laughter under the cheesy pop their youngest was always singing along to.

And the feeling of bliss it all brought Rita, of everyone she loved in one room, having fun, brought with it all the sense of self she needed some days. All the stability she couldn’t get at their ages, the security and privilege she worked so hard for, only to pass it along.

She sighed lightly, quietly, gazing out at it all from the kitchen. And it got her thinking.

She wouldn’t give up any of it for the world.

Soon enough, the guilt started to creep into the corners of her mind. What the hell was she doing, risking all of this for her?

She still couldn’t bring herself to tell Rafa everything. The time to be upfront about her and Casey had been and gone. Even within the looser boundaries of their own making, it was a violation of his trust that threatened to bring down everything with her. Now all she could do was hope she could clean up the mess on her own, without any of it spilling into her other spheres. There was simply too much at stake to get it wrong. Maybe that was why she was so fearful of their inevitable conclusion.

She didn’t hear Rafa sneaking up behind her, slinking his hands around her waist. She only flinched a fraction until she realized who it was, sinking back into the embrace with a soft breath, her shoulders dropping.

“You okay?” He asked over her shoulder, quietly enough for them to only hear each other behind the crowd.

“I’m fine.” She whispered back, “I just, love the yearly reminder of that time I got my stomach cut open, y’know?”

They looked out into their living room, at little Lucy in her dress-up tiara, dancing in the middle of the rug with her namesake, laughing along with her abuela with the cheesiest grin, complete with the little gap where her most recent baby tooth fell out.

He just held Rita tighter at that, his breath over her ear soothing her. “… Worth it though, right?” He asked.

And obviously, it was.

Their arrangement was unconventional, maybe even controversial, albeit less so now than when they first agreed to it. But it was theirs, something that came to them so naturally, to share and mold and treasure to their liking. They took affection from each other when they needed it, and shared in their affection for others. And still, they managed to pull it off, keeping the watertight image of their happy, nuclear family at the forefront, with two wonderful girls who seemed all the better for it. It just worked.

So she couldn’t help the tiniest smile in her sigh, relaxing further into his arms. “… Of course.”

They stayed like that for a moment, long enough for Ginny to heckle from across the room with a small ‘gross…!’ before they were interrupted by the apartment buzzer.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” She asked, craning her neck to see if he was as puzzled as she was.

“Not that I know of…” He unraveled himself from her, starting toward the hallway. “I’ll go check.”

He wasn’t gone for long before she followed, lingering behind at the threshold of the living room, just overhearing the conversation, just feeling the cool draft from the open door.

“I just wanted to leave this for Lucy—”

“No please, come in say hi. Come in, both of you… Good to see you again.”

"Likewise."

She wasn’t expecting Alex to drop by, carrying a large box wrapped in pink paper and glittery ribbon. But even less so, was she expecting Casey to be right there by her side, her hair tied in a tight ponytail, in jeans and zip-up sweater, smiling and playing the role.

Rita’s mind was catapulted back to that afternoon in the Hamptons just after Christmas. Coming in from the biting cold only to be confronted by the sight of her, sitting with her family, blending in and sticking out all at once, her mere presence threatening to shatter that sanctuary.

Alex and Rafa had gone ahead back into the party, leaving the two of them shuffling awkwardly, even despite Rita’s jaw tightening the more her mind started to spiral. How serious was this? How much did Alex know? How could Casey do this to her?

Her arms folded tightly around herself, glaring at Casey on her way to the staircase. “We need to talk. Now.”

And she didn’t need to look back, with the untimely creaks on the steps following behind her.

The study was stuffy from the rising warmth of the crowd downstairs, from the early spring sun beaming through the window. It was mostly used by Rafa these days, with Rita practically living in the office as of late. It was his laptop closed on the desk, surrounded by his files and his pens and every reminder of his loyalty to their lifelong pact.

All while the woman who threatened to bring it all crashing down hovered by the door, hesitating to close it over while Rita just kept pacing through the room.

It ultimately stayed open just a crack before Casey turned to her, a palm up in an uncharacteristic surrender. “She just said she had something to drop off on our way downtown, I didn’t know we were coming here—"

“I trusted you!” Rita hissed back, whipping around from where she found herself staring out the window. “What the hell are you doing seeing someone else—?!”

Casey’s brows furrowed together, her voice lowering to a grievous, growling whisper. “Forgive me but isn’t that your husband down there in the living room?!”

“My secretary, of all people—!”

The redhead stepped toward her. “If you want to talk about keeping things professional, you do not have a leg to stand on here.”

Rita didn’t recognize the rage bubbling beneath her skin, begging to claw its way out, demanding her hands make fists and hurting her throat from holding back screams. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut to resist temptation, shaking it out of her head.

“… How long?” She asked, her gaze now on the rug beneath their feet.

Casey folded her arms. “I don’t think that’s any of your business—"

“You’ve been fucking me for months, Casey, that makes it my business.”

“… Not that long.” She still somehow managed to shrug it all off, like she wasn’t actively tearing down Rita’s fantasies right in front of her. “Couple weeks.”

So they weren’t together that last weekend they shared in the hotel. The one where they bared more than their souls to one another, where Rita confessed just how terrified she was of risking exposure. And Casey still had the gall to see Alex in response.

“I thought you weren’t looking for a girlfriend?”

“Not from you.” Casey said, a little too pointedly. “That’s not what this is, what we are.” She studied Rita’s expression some more. The pursed lip, the slow, deliberate breathing. “Oh my God, you’re jealous—”

“Oh, please,” Rita scoffed, “that’s pathetic—”

“It’s also true.” Casey quipped, taking in the room that seemed to reject the other woman as much as it did her. She wandered over to the shelves, running a finger through the fine dust that always managed to gather again the minute their cleaner left. “I mean… your husband obviously doesn’t satisfy you, or you wouldn’t be looking elsewhere. But when I do the same, that’s an issue?”

“… I don’t satisfy you?”

She turned back to find Rita’s eyes wide, even from across the room she'd managed to hit a nerve. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

But it had already sent more questions through Rita’s mind in rapid-fire succession. Maybe none of this was genuine after all. Maybe Casey was just that good at pretending she wasn’t after money, and was willing to have some fun of her own in the process of getting it.

Not only was that fragile trust they’d spent months building up finally starting to crack, in an instant it now threatened to shatter all over the floor in the last place Rita wanted to be dealing with it, with her family just meters below their feet. She wasn’t sure she could control herself if she said anymore about it out loud. Not here, and not now.

So they let the air between them freeze over instead, the chill doing battle with the stubborn sunbeam warming Rita’s back.

And that breeze only got stronger when the door swung open further, Rafa tilting his head at the silent scene unfolding in front of him.

“Everything okay in here?” He asked, his eyes squarely on his wife, the deer in headlights.

Casey’s jaw seemed to hesitate in a way Rita found curiously unsettling. In all those months, she’d never seen the redhead at a loss for words. Not in any meaningful, genuine way. She always had the look of someone thinking three steps ahead, whether at her desk in the office or on top of Rita in the bedroom. Even while telling Rita the story of her ex, she didn’t look this exposed.

The young woman was evolving, softening, right in front of her. With a little more time she even might’ve been able to pick out the parts already falling under Alex’s spell. This wasn’t the same woman that sought her out before the holidays.

But none of what Rita was thinking seemed to compel Casey into answering any faster, and Rafa’s eyebrow only raised more in waiting.

“Yes, sorry, I—” she finally eked out, clearing her throat at the spike in pitch. “I was just looking for your bathroom, got a little lost.”

She managed to slip back into character, but Rita knew what she saw.

Rafa’s face remained unchanged, however. His own tone flat, ambiguous. “… There’s one along the hall, you walked right by it.”

Casey nodded, approaching him with a hurried, too casual ‘thanks', and Rita’s heart was unable to beat until she slipped past, through the doorway and out of sight.

The revelations of the last few minutes were making Rita dizzy, the sheer act of the tension leaving her body made her head throb enough to compulsively rub at her temple with the heel of her hand.

He hurried over at the sight, rounding the desk and landing right in front of her. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just…” she sniffed back something she would confidently blame on allergies later, unable to meet his eye. “Bit of a— bit of a headache.” She was murmuring so quietly he had to lean in closer just to hear her, his hand slipping around her waist once more.

“Why don’t you go lay down?”

She shook her head, focusing instead on the stitches over the shoulder of his shirt. “No, no, not with everybody still here—”

“They will all still be here in an hour.” His hands slid up to her shoulders, one rubbing down her arm with the other tucked her hair back. “Just take an Advil, go lay down, mom and I will see to the hyperactive grade-schoolers invading our living room. Okay?”

She was so tempted to melt into his touch, the most familiar anchor in her rollercoaster of an existence. Always there, always grounded. At the end of it all, she could always come home to him.

“Okay…” she finally conceded with the smallest nod, letting herself be led back out of the study. “okay…”

[read in full on ao3]

----------

Rita was still bare, slightly dazed with the fatigue in her muscles, her body tangled up in the bedsheets in an almost impossible pattern. Lying on her side and staring out the window, all while the whizz of the shower hummed beyond the open door to the ensuite, a gentle flow of steam only visible against the view of the grey, dreary city outside. Where life droned on just fine without them, all while they indulged in their relative isolation from the world, switching off from anything resembling responsibility. A feeling Casey had her well versed in by now, when needed.

She heard the shower stop and propped herself up on her elbow, watching intently for Casey to step out from the glass, tattooed side facing her as she reached for the towel to dry off, before wrapping it neatly around herself. She watched the redhead comb her hair back in the mirror, damp strands of deep mahogany meeting at the nape of her neck and threatening to drip down her back as she padded back through the bedroom.

She spotted Rita staring with a wide-eyed curiosity, like she hadn’t just spent however many countless hours above, around, and under the very body that still captivated all her attention as it unwrapped from the towel again.

“You okay?” She asked, crawling back into the free side of the bed, propping herself up with pillows against the headboard.

Rita let out a small, satisfied sigh, the corners of her mouth curling upwards. “Never been better.”

Casey leaned into the middle, their lips meeting lightly, graciously. “Come here, babygirl…”

Rita took the invitation into open arms, snuggling into Casey’s side, head resting on her soft bosom. She smelled so clean, of soap and cotton and just a hint of jasmine from her lingering fragrance.

She felt Casey lay long, gentle kisses into her hair, a hand coming up to release it from the claw clasp at the back of her head, letting long brunette locks tumble down and over her.

“You’ve been so good.” The redhead whispered, softly enough to send tingles down Rita’s spine.

“So have you…” She whispered back, getting cozier against Casey’s bare skin, sighing into it, “I wish we could just stay like this forever, stay feeling like this.”

“I might be able to help with that…” Casey unfurled herself to the sound of a few grumbled protests, sitting up to reach for the duffle bag that ended up closest to her side of the bed. From a small, zippered side compartment, she pulled out a small pouch of holographic plastic before crawling back to where she’d been lying.

Rita took in the pouch, looking between it and Casey, more than a little perplexed. For all the preaching Casey would do about what was good for her, she assumed edibles were always off the table.

“I didn’t think you were the type?” She asked.

“I just don’t like smoking.” Casey pulled the reseal apart in her hands. “Want one?”

Rita nodded, watching her pull out one of the pink, sugar-covered gummies and handing it into Rita’s open palm, before taking out her own and returning the pouch to the nightstand.

“I’m surprised you didn’t offer sooner.” The brunette remarked.

“This is just for winding down…” Casey shuffled to get comfortable against the headboard again. “I’m not into party and play, or anything like that. I like to feel it all, remember it all, y’know?”

“Well, here’s to that…” Rita held the gummy between two fingers, reaching over to mockingly toast against the other in Casey’s hand before popping it into her own mouth. Chewing down and crunching on the sugary crystals between her teeth, she tried not to grimace at the syrupy-sweet, Generic Berry Flavor that reminded her of Lucy’s Halloween candy she always snuck a taste of in the middle of the night, while it dissolved over her tongue and down her throat.

Casey spread an arm over the pillow, wordlessly inviting Rita to reassume the position snuggled into her. Slowly, her muscles started to melt, into the sheets, into Casey’s skin. Her mind felt lighter, only tethered to her conscious by balloon strings. And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“I finally feel safe with you…” She murmured.

“Safe?”

“Yeah, like I could, do anything, tell you anything. And it’ll all be just for us.”

She knew she was encroaching on dangerous territory, with those affectionate feelings growing stronger while her defenses were down. Even with her clothes on the floor and the weed filtering through her system, she felt right at home in Casey’s arms. Because what was safety, if not the feeling of home in spite of its absence?

“Tell me about your family.”

The question from above almost caught her off guard while she’d taken to drawing circles over Casey’s torso. “You met them, at the holiday party—”

“No, like… your parents. Tell me about them.”

Her eyes furrowed at that. Why on earth would she want to bring all that up right now? She finally coerced her body to move, slowly propping herself up on her elbow. “That’s all out there, too—”

“I know, but, tell me anyway.” Casey was still close enough to draw her own circles on Rita’s back, sending a soothing chill down it. “Tell me something about you nobody else knows.”

Rita gave it some thought, gulping. She and Rafa already knew everything about each other. No secrets, that’s what kept the wheels turning in their marriage. But there was one he was sworn to secrecy on, the night she finally told him while they stumbled home drunk from a college networking event. It ended with her crying herself to sleep in his arms, and they never discussed it again.

But it was the only one she could think of, as if it were something about her Casey was simply destined to know.

She cleared her throat. “I have a story… About why I became an attorney—”

“The model immigrant story.” Casey nodded, she was already familiar with the premise, at least.

“… Is it that obvious?”

“That you made it up on the spot in your first New York One interview and stuck to it?” Casey raised a brow. “Yeah, kind of.”

“It’s not made up. My parents really did just have the clothes on their backs when they got here. And they worked. Hard. Harder than most. It’s… sanitized, but it’s not made up.”

She cocked her head. “Sanitized?”

Rita braced herself, chewing on her lip. She picked a spot on the wall over Casey’s shoulder and let her gaze fix there.

“… I was eight. I’d just transferred from public school after I got my scholarship for Dowland. It was maybe my… second, or third week there? Monday morning, I was so excited I woke up early, put my little uniform on, did my hair all by myself before the sun was even up.” The tiny glint of a smile she got at the memory soon faded. “I got myself some cereal and was eating it at the kitchen table, when my dad came home from his shift – he worked nights, he was a cab driver…” She averted her gaze even further as she thought back. “And he had, all these, bruises, all over his face, blood, all over his clothes…”

She finally looked back, and the expression on Casey’s face was far from the nonchalance she was expecting, but instead listening, intently, hanging on the older woman’s every word. The hand drawing on Rita’s back had long stopped, now holding her in place, a stalwart support.

“… He’d been attacked by one of his fares. Two white guys pulled him out of the driver’s seat after he dropped them somewhere in Brooklyn, beat him to a pulp, robbed him of his whole night’s earnings.”

Casey allowed herself a small enough gasp to not interrupt. “Oh my God.”

“He wouldn’t go to the hospital, none of us had insurance back then… So, after my mom got up, fixed the complete mess I’d made of my French braids, and walked me the thirty blocks down to school and back, she made him go to the police… And all they were interested in was linking the attack to local gang activity. They did criminal checks, called immigration, they even questioned me when I got home that night. Asked me why I thought my daddy was always working late, if he ever had friends over, if there was anything of his I wasn’t allowed to touch. They did everything except investigate what my dad already told them. They were so convinced he was lying when he was the fucking victim. So they never found the guys, and the case got dropped… But six weeks later, up pops three surveillance cameras on our block, patrol cars circling every hour ever since.”

“That’s horrible, I’m so sorry.”

“That happened to him three more times before he got sick, but he never went to the police again.”

Rita sighed so loudly she was surprised it didn’t take all the air out of her body with it, turning to slump down onto her back and stare at the ceiling.

“All while I had to just, sit there, and listen to all these privileged white kids in my classes tell me that the police are here to keep us safe, that the city should be proud of the NYPD. And half these kids wanted to be attorneys, so I just knew I had to level the playing field. Even if I had to bring my own shit-shovel.”

She felt Casey pull her in closer again, but Rita rolled onto her front instead, taking in the fine details of the other woman’s face up close.

“I told you mine, you tell me yours.” She said, tucking a drying strand of hair behind Casey’s ear.

“There’s not much to tell.” Casey sighed.

“Well, where are they? Your family?”

“Pennsylvania.”

Rita narrowed her eyes in thought, thinking back to those first few, awkward months. “… You didn’t go home for the holidays.”

“I’m not exactly welcome.” Casey gulped a little, turning onto her side to face the other woman more directly. “Small town, big church, and a dyke for a daughter… they don’t really mix.”

Rita couldn’t help but think about her Genevieve. That random Tuesday night the girl trembled on her way down to the kitchen, so obviously wrought with fear in every step. Not even realizing she was in the safest company she could be, with both her parents, when she blurted out ‘Mom I think I like girls now’.

The open arms were non-negotiable, anything less would be hypocritical. There was no disappointment, her kids’ futures weren’t theirs to map out, just undulated joy at the confirmation that at least one of them was comfortable enough to be so honest. That at least they were doing something right.

“But I just… kept pushing it.” Casey went on. “Last time I went home, it was Thanksgiving, maybe… three years ago? I’d met this girl in college. She was really bright, really funny, and I wanted them to meet her. I thought, if they couldn’t appreciate who I was, maybe they could at least appreciate that I was happy, how happy she made me.”

“And it didn’t go well?”

“They told me to come back with a boy or not come back at all.” She started to avert her stare too, just like the other woman had done, while she kept on reflecting. “So we turned around, headed back to the airport, paid the three hundred dollars we couldn’t afford to get an earlier flight, haven’t been home since.”

“Casey, I’m so sorry.”

“So Charlotte – Charlie – and I, we just… stayed in Boston. Until we both got accepted to Columbia Law, then we moved here.”

“What happened to her?” Rita asked, her voice softening some more, studying Casey’s expression again.

“The move kinda stressed her out. She started acting, strange. Started having, issues. Anger issues. Control issues… Completely paranoid.”

Casey’s free hand was fidgeting with itself now, nails scratching at each other just out of reach. Rita had never seen her like this before, lips struggling to form sentences and eyes distant without a purpose. Despondency, vulnerability.

“… She hurt you, didn’t she?”

Casey didn’t respond. But when her eyes flickered toward Rita’s, she didn’t need to.

“And she’s still there? At school?”

“She dropped out. Last I heard, she was homeless.”

Rita’s hands suddenly felt clumsy, the deliberate care in every movement so unnatural against the flow of the preceding hours. The younger woman had really lived an entire life before they even met, and all that time learning to not think in her presence felt like it was coming back to bite.

Casey sighed and rolled onto her back again, Rita’s hand dropping to rest over her arm instead. “Guess it’s true what they say about people like us.”

“People like us?”

She turned her head back, catching Rita’s eye. “Kinky freaks. That we’re all just… damaged goods, looking for an outlet.”

Rita shuffled closer again, still on her front, peering over slightly. “So what if it’s true? That doesn’t make it bad.”

But they were never inclined to debate the psychology or philosophy of one another’s company. There was simply never the time, or frankly the interest. It was only now, with the opportunity and unabridged access that they could truly explore what they meant to one another. It was just a matter of whether they wanted to.

Thankfully they were interrupted before they could get that far, by the growling pit of hunger in Casey’s stomach making itself known, rumbling loud enough to put them both into a fit of childlike giggling.

“Let’s get some food…” Rita strained as she unwillingly pulled herself up from the bed in search of wherever they’d last left the room service menu.

They just went for burgers this time, Casey realizing the night before after a single bite that she was not a caviar sort of woman, despite Rita’s best efforts. Both in their fluffy hotel robes and chowing down over silver dishes back at the dining table, Rita found herself fixing on Casey at every opportunity. It was a strange, unfamiliar compulsion she’d certainly never felt with her husband. It didn’t put her off her food, per se, but she no longer felt the need for the massive meal laid out in front of her. Somewhere between love and nausea, neither of which boded well for her under the circumstances.

And Casey caught onto her the first time their eyes met, mid-bite with the half bun still in her hand. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She asked, still chewing while her free hand came up to wipe at nothing on the corners of her mouth.

Rita raised a tentative brow at her. “… I’m scared this isn’t going to last.”

Casey pondered on that for a moment. She put down her burger and swallowed, ran her tongue along her teeth, cleared her throat. “Well, why’s that scary?”

“What if…” Rita shrugged, “something goes wrong, or, god forbid, if anyone finds out—"

“Hey…” Casey reached across the corner of the table, putting Rita’s hand in hers. “No one is going to find out, you know that. Don’t be going all… you, about that sort of stuff again.”

That was all the affection that was needed for the moment. She brought her hand back as fast as it had gone out.

“And for what it’s worth,” She added, picking up her food again, “things don’t always have to end badly, just to end…”

There was an inevitability to it. They had now done practically everything there was to do with one another, every corner of themselves explored. What was next? If they wanted to preserve the integrity of both their lives outside the four walls of that suite, there were no next steps from this.

Rita would go back to her family, her husband, her girls. Casey would go back to her apartment, her homework, her job. They’d likely never meet anywhere so private again, to fuck then go back to work pretending that they hadn’t, that they’d never. Neither needed to say it, but their time left together in that suite needed to be savored, now it was dawning on them things would likely never be this perfect again.

[view in full on ao3]

----------

Their second home in the Hamptons was the antithesis of their city life. Everything was slower, more intentional, a disconnect from their hectic lives that was always so sorely needed when the time came.

Rita had been so busy recently she hadn’t made the trip out there in months. Sometimes Rafa went with just the girls, sometimes his mom tagged along, sometimes Ginny brought Marie with her. It allowed for the wholesome, family bonding that just didn’t feel as genuine in the confines of their city apartment.

Seeing the place dotted in warm, gentle fairy lights against the cold, dark skies always brought her a renewed sense of calm, one she had decided she’d earned this year, only heightened by the décor inside; a real tree so large it only fit in the hall, but still adorned with red, silver and golden tinsel and ornate baubles. The stockings with everyone’s name stitched on them over the fireplace in the living room, Rafa had even gone out and bought a matching one for Marie this year. Wreaths and foliage arrangements were dotted through the place too, warming scented candles mixing with the scent of pine. God, was it heaven on earth for Rita, her safe haven from the chaos. From the guilt.

The big morning went just like the ones of previous years. Rafa made himself at home in the kitchen with his mom, preparing a massive breakfast for everyone before they all gathered in the lounge to open their presents. Rita would gather up the scraps of wrapping paper and gift bags, staying well away from the kitchen while the main event was in full swing, in exchange for doing the dishes later.

And it always paid off, everyone getting a full plate of delicious food, and enough leftovers to last another lifetime. The conversation flowed effortlessly at the table as the adults sipped on wine and the kids on sparkling grape juice.

Marie seemed to have settled well over the last couple of days, Rita even got a hug after they gifted her a silver charm bracelet they overheard her fawning over. She was sat across from Rita now, bright eyed and giggling at something Ginny said from beside her.

“So Marie, where are your family this year?”

Rita thought the question was innocent enough, but it earned her a wide enough glare from Ginny that, for a moment, felt like looking in a mirror.

But Marie cleared her throat anyway, feeling cordial enough to answer. “Mom’s with Aunt June up in Albany, dad went to Aspen… with Wendy.” She ended on a slight grumble, stabbing another mouthful of food onto her fork.

“Who’s Wen—?”

Rita didn’t get the chance to finish the next question before feeling the nudge to her shin under the table, this time from her husband’s direction.

Rita had been working so much lately, it seemed like she had a lot of catching up to do in this department, with Rafa taking most of the heat for her. It made her take pause, that she was out so much now, she and her husband didn’t even have time to debrief on the everchanging social lives of their kids.

And yes, she recognized a lot of that was her own doing. But she couldn’t let the guilt creep in now. It was Christmas and they were together, and for now, that was all that mattered.

“Well, we’ll be heading back to the city for the new year.” She continued, changing the subject only slightly. “But, you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need.”

Marie reminded her just how grateful she was for her and Rafa’s arrangement. That something as trivial as feelings or emotional connection would never be enough for them to even entertain the idea of divorce. It would take a Magnitude 9 earthquake, an atomic bomb in their apartment, for them to consider separating. What they had might not have been love, but it was so much more secure than that. Love-adjacent.

And Rita was true to her word after another few hours, sleeves of her blouse rolled up past her elbows, gloved hands disappeared into the sink of soapy water in the kitchen. The familiar dark lay out the window, and the familiar reflection of the lights adorning the gable roof above her still twinkled through it.

The evening brought an even more renewed sense of calm, everyone moving a little slower on their full, satisfied stomachs. The rest of her family were laid out over the couches watching a movie, except for Lucy, who chose to watch cross-legged on the floor while playing quietly with all her new toys.

The larger dishes started to pile up in the drying rack, so Rita moved to unstack the fresh load from the dishwasher, peeling off the gloves and tossing them on the counter.

She turned and almost jumped at Ginny seemingly managing to join her in complete silence, wordlessly picking out a dishtowel from the drawers and starting to dry some of the dishes in the rack by hand.

“You don’t need to do that—”

“I want to…” Ginny shrugged, not looking up from the task at hand. “Marie fell asleep.”

Rita just shrugged, letting her carry on. She certainly wasn’t one to turn down a helping hand from her eldest, what with it being such a damn rarity these days.

The clattering of dishes as they moved around, placed on countertops and cabinets as they worked between them to organize and put them away, were good at filling out the silence, the two of them mostly talked out for the day. But Rita had been struck by how mature Marie seemed to be acting at dinner, prompting her to ask,

“How old is she again?”

“She’ll be nineteen in February.”

Ginny watched her mom’s expression change, how quickly she seemed to have forgotten the details. That they met at soccer practice, not school. That the age gap wasn’t as much of a problem when they met a year and a half ago. That the timeline between Marie leaving her last girlfriend and Ginny asking her out officially was… murky, at best. They’d definitely been over this, but her mom still looked uncomfortable.

Ginny rolled her eyes and huffed. “… What?!”

“Well, just that, y’know, she’s a little older…” Rita was insinuating more with those little eyebrow raises that she did, than she would ever say out loud. “Just… be careful.”

Her daughter tossed the dishtowel over the counter, willing for her hoodie to just swallow her whole already. “Oh my God—”

“I’m being serious, Ginny. At that age… if she… wants to, you know, do stuff that you might not—"

“We are so not having this conversation right now…” She threw her hands up in surrender, disappearing from the kitchen as fast as she’d entered.

Rita didn’t really have a leg to stand on in that department, anymore. Even if Ginny didn’t know that. But she let her go, the dishes were mostly done now anyway, the small helping hand actually going a long way, leaving Rita with just the clean cutlery to sort through and put back.

The rest of the night wound down without a hitch. The girls went to bed not long before their abuela, Rita and Rafa a few hours after that. They slipped into their pajamas, still debriefing the day after brushing their teeth side by side in the bathroom and crawling into bed.

“So when did Marie’s parents split up?”

“Maybe, August?” Rafa turned his head from the ceiling to look at her. “She stayed with us for like, two weeks, do you really not remember?”

She gave a frustrated sigh. “Maybe? Must’ve been busy, with work.”

“Well apparently her mom caught him and Wendy in the act… She’s his secretary.”

Rita’s first instinct was for her jaw to drop at the now lukewarm gossip. Until the realization set in, that she was, probably – definitely – no better.

But she had to keep herself in the moment, that had been working so far. Just let him keep talking while she reminded herself how lucky she was, that they at least had the appearance of normality, and two beautiful, brilliant, well-adjusted kids to show for it.

“… She still seems to be having a good effect on Ginny, though.”

“Right?” Rita turned to lie on her side to face him. “I mean, she was helping, she’s never—” Something thumped in the distance, telling them they weren’t the only ones still awake in that house. Rita lowered her voice to a whisper, trying to hold back the childish laughter as she did so. “She’s never done that…!”

Maybe it was the mix of wine with good company, or the fact that she was finally enjoying some sort of break, but Rita was more than willing to end the night with a little something just for the two of them, still smirking away with glee at the life they’d managed to build for themselves. They both leaned in closer, their lips meeting at the center of the bed and melting into each other. It wasn’t long until they were wrestling their bottoms straight off again, letting him roll on top of her before she knew it.

The next few days were just as soothing, as Rita wanted and needed. Lucia went back to the city to see her friends, and the rest of the family settled into the slow life. Going to bed early and waking up late, with long hikes and trips to the beach between. Living life at their own pace, like a sneak preview of retirement.

Rita decided to head further into town one of those mornings, picking up fresh pastries, bread, fruit and preserves from the organic market for their brunch. Or at that time, perhaps it was more like lunch.

She closed the door behind her to the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen, her heart warming at what waited for her, another effortless conversation for her to slip into.

“So what is it you do?”

Her heart stopped at the doorway, darting back to the hall and listening in. Of course she knew that voice, and it didn’t belong in her fucking kitchen. Talking to her fucking family. That voice that whispered praise in her ear while she came, over, and over, and over. Talking to her fucking kids, her husband.

“Election integrity.” Rafa continued the conversation, seemingly unperturbed by the new addition. “Used to mean working away a lot, but I mostly supervise now, so I can do a lot of that remotely.”

“That sounds good.” She heard Casey reply, like this was any degree of normal.

“Yeah, means there’s usually someone there for the girls, what with Rita’s hours…”

“Yeah she does work hard…”

“What else do you do? Rita says you’re second year at Columbia…?”

“Yeah… I bartend on the weekends, too. I don’t really need to anymore, but, I like it, it’s something a little different—"

“That’s so cool—”

Rita’s free hand flew to her mouth, hearing Lucy admiring her.

“That must keep you busy… What bar?”

“The Nines?”

“Oh yeah, we’ve been there a couple times, it's really nice—"

She had to put a stop to this, finally announcing her entrance into the kitchen, preparing to look surprised.

“Hello…?”

“In here, mom!”

As much as she tried to act cool, laying the grocery bag on the counter and looking out to the dining table, no words would come out. Seeing Casey sat there, flanked on either side by Ginny and Lucy, Marie and Rafa sat across from them. She had a laptop bag in front of her that Rita recognized as her own.

“Oh, hey…” Casey decided to break the ice, seemingly not needing to pretend to be cool with it all. “You left your laptop, back at the office, Alex asked me to bring it to you.”

Rita furrowed a brow, just a fraction. Had they been alone, it would’ve been more, and then some. “She didn’t arrange a courier?”

“We thought it best to hand deliver it.” Casey shrugged it off, “Or, well, I volunteered. Client data, sensitive information, chain of custody, yada yada, so I… I took the train out to Easthampton.”

The insanity of it all. That her family would see this committed employee, but Rita saw through it, that she was toeing the line between control and coercion. Reminding Rita of their nights together, getting in her head in the last place she expected to see her. It was fun behind closed doors. But not here, not now.

Rafa had gotten up while they talked, and was rifling through the grocery bag. “She really is dedicated.” He turned back to the table. “You came all this way, during the holidays, can I at least get you something to eat?”

“Oh, no I’m okay, but thank you—”

“I’m sure Casey will want to get back to her family.” Rita insinuated, a little too strongly, a little too panicked. “I’ll take you back to the train.”

So Casey said her awkward goodbyes, despite the girls’ protests for her to stay, seemingly fascinated by her and wanting to know more. But Rita wasn’t having it. Not here, and not now.

They pulled into the parking lot, the empty train platform right in front of them, having driven all the way there in complete silence. Rita was seething too much, taking it out on her grip of the steering wheel. She turned off the engine, and the deepened silence tipped her over the edge.

“What are you doing here?!” She seethed, still staring out the windshield.

“Told you, I don’t like Christmas.” Casey mumbled the non-answer, and it only frustrated Rita more.

“You cannot just show up here. My family is off limits, do you hear me?!”

Casey turned, trying to get Rita to even just look at her. “I, I was just doing my job—”

“My kids mean everything to me,” She growled, “don’t you ever, ever do that again.”

“Okay, I won’t…” Casey nodded, conceding. She unbuckled and moved to open the car door, but it wouldn’t budge under the handle. “Can you unlock the car now?”

“Actually, this might be a good chance to talk…”

She finally looked at Casey, and she was uncharacteristically unsettled.

“… I wasn’t expecting you to just show up at my house, I think we need to talk boundaries.”

Casey took a breath, slouching in the seat a little. “You know I’m not looking for a girlfriend, right? Is that what you’re afraid of?” She looked around, still taking those deep breaths. “‘Cus I’m not looking to be a stepmom, I’m not interested—”

“Thank you—”

“What I thought we were doing…” She ran a hand through her hair, “Was just like, play pretend, it means nothing to me—”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Christ, Casey, you’re not a fucking child—"

Casey tried the door handle again, to no avail. “Can you unlock the car, now—?”

“Although you’re starting to act like one—”

She started to quip, but Casey couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Unlock the FUCKING CAR, RITA!”

She screamed so loud in the confined space, slapped the car door so aggressively, Rita genuinely startled. Her ears rang and her eyes went watery, for some reason. She reached around the wheel and the doors clicked open, but all Casey could do was swing her legs out, sitting over the side of the open door and breathing in the freezing cold air.

Rita didn’t see the same Casey anymore. She couldn’t see the bold, stubborn intern that said everything and anything on her mind and took it upon herself to show up when and where she liked. The one in control. No. Now she saw the student, a woman that was hurting, scared. That had been through a bad enough breakup to ditch work for an entire week not that long ago. The woman technically young enough to be one of her own damn daughters.

She got out her side and walked around the car, kneeling down in front of her, gripping the doorframe for balance. Her free hand went to hold Casey by the leg, but was slapped away so fast.

“Get off me, don’t fucking touch me…” Casey mumbled, eyes closed, trying to ground herself with more sighing breaths.

Rita waited for her to open her eyes again. However long it took, whenever she was ready. Her head was still high when she blinked them open again, her chest rising and falling a few more times before acknowledging Rita with a cold, hard stare.

“Look,” Rita sighed. “All this, it’s confusing—”

“Yeah, no shit it’s confusing—”

Rita ignored the interruption, she had a point to make. “And whatever you’ve got, going on, it’s just… You’re still very young—”

“I’m not that young—”

“Yes you are, Casey—”

“I’m really not—”

“Look, whatever…” Rita shook herself out of it, before the back-and-forth became endless. Or maybe she was scared of setting her off again. “My point is… We have to keep this professional. I’m not going to fire you, or anything like that, but we can’t go on like this. We’ll talk when we’re both back in the office.”

“Fine.”

A bell rang from the platform, signaling the arrival of the incoming train. Casey got out the car without another word, signaling for Rita to get the hell out of the way.

[view on ao3]

Some of the junior and senior partners would bring their families to the office holiday party every year. It worked as a way to keep things from getting too raucous or out of hand. If the younger ones wanted to leave later on to party the night away in a dark, overpriced, sweaty club, they were welcome to.

But not Rita, who was more than happy with Rafa and her girls turning up at the office, dressed to the nines. Ginny was even wearing a dress, and Rita wondered for a moment if she might be dreaming.

“Did you wear that for me…?!”

The two of them looked beautiful, it occasionally took her by surprise that she and Rafa could even make two children this beautiful, this spirited and caring. She brought them both in for a hug on each side of her before letting Rafa kiss her on the cheek.

“You don’t look so bad, yourself.” He whispered to her just loud enough to make Ginny cringe as she heard it.

But Rita couldn’t help noticing their company off to his left. Casey, still in her office outfit from the day, as most of the rest of them were, an all-black pegged dress and a tiny, red neckerchief tied to the side. Their conversation had obviously been interrupted by Rita’s presence.

Casey turned to the direction of the kitchen, her head lowering to talk to the girls. “Can I get you ladies a drink?”

Ginny’s face lit up. “I’ll take a bee—?”

“She’ll have a soda, Miss Novak.” Rita’s hand was on her eldest’s shoulder, giving it a knowing, warning squeeze. “She’s sixteen.”

“Understood.” Casey nodded, turning on her heel and walking away.

There was something in Casey’s silhouette that commanded any space she occupied, something that Rita tried her best to ignore as the conversations continued around her, that strange feeling mixed with just a drop of fear. What on earth was she afraid of?

The party went on and the music got louder, everyone in the office mingling and sharing a laugh or two, the kids dancing in the kitchen or around the desks. Rita’s cravings kicked in soon enough, as they usually did after a drink or two, and she headed to her office to grab her coat, the e-cigarette hidden conveniently in the pocket, before taking the elevator to the top floor, then the final set of stairs up to the rooftop.

She took a draw from the unscented vapor and looked out, leaning her arms over the concrete barrier. She never did tire of the city view, the lights twinkling all around. A breeze caught her off guard and she tightened her unbuttoned coat around herself a little tighter.

She took another draw, another breath, until a shuffling from behind made her jump out her skin, when she finally realized she wasn’t alone up there.

“You know that’s bad for you, too.” Casey said, finally emerging from the shadows to join Rita by her side. “Worse than smoking, that’s what they’re all saying now.” She sighed and assumed the same position over the barrier. “The chemicals, the microplastics—”

Rita had to hold back a scoff. “What are you, my conscience?”

“Only if you want me to be…”

A faint scent of honey and jasmine started to encroach between them. Only then did Rita notice that the neckerchief was gone, and the pale skin now exposed must’ve been freezing up there.

If it was, Casey didn’t let it show. Instead, she had that dark look in her eye, her gaze fixed on the plastic pen, and the dainty fingers of the hand holding it. She took a sharp breath and tightened her own coat.

“I’ve never liked Christmas, do you?” She asked.

Rita looked like she was contemplating it for a moment. “Not recently, it’s—”

“It’s always too loud—”

Casey had continued her train of thought as if not waiting for Rita’s response. The two of them stuttered over the ends of their respective sentences, waiting for the other to start again.

“You go—”

“No, you—”

“Rita, I insist.”

Rita sighed, almost smiling at the endearment. “I was just going to say it’s different when you have kids, when they’re younger it’s all about them. Lucy still thinks Santa’s getting her the American Girl doll she asked for.” Rita gestured for Casey to take over, “Go ahead?”

But Casey just shook her head. “Nah.”

Rita didn’t want to admit she was fascinated. A seemingly sociable young woman, that hated Christmas, that found herself alone on the roof, in the quiet. Sure, they all seemed this mysterious at first, it usually just turned out to be their own personal quirks that made the hiring cycle so interesting in the first place. But this one was different. Call it instinct, but Rita could just tell.

It was another few hours before it started to quiet down. The older ones and their families started to call it a night and head home, the younger ones decided on a club and split a few cabs, with Rita slipping Alex the company card to pay for the first round on her.

Casey had slipped out somewhere among them, but Rita didn’t manage to catch who with. She was sure she’d find out on Monday.

For now, she was perfectly content back home, changed into cotton casualwear that was much more comfortable, and sharing a bowl of chocolates with her husband over the kitchen counter, the girls long in pajamas and gone to bed.

She was catching up on emails on her phone, several dozen missed in the hours she’d finally switched off for a while. Her eyes were once again fixed to the screen, scrolling with one hand, sipping on her tea with the other.

“Saw you talking to the intern tonight.” She mumbled, clearing out another phishing email.

“Yeah, she seems… Passionate.” Rafa nodded, popping another chocolate in his mouth.

“Not the word I’d use, but… yeah.”

“She was telling me you’ve stuck her making copies?”

Rita sighed, finally looking up. “Well, there’s so much to catch up on with the surveillance case, and we need all the help we can get.” She took a sip of tea, soothing her throat, still aching a little from all the casual chatter. “This way she gets to familiarize herself with the basics, and it’s one less job for Alex, it’s a win-win.”

“If you’re sure…” Rafa quipped with a quirk of his brow.

“I am sure.” Rita stated, firmly shutting him down, turning back to the next email. “Fuck…” She muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Judge Stein wants to see me first thing on Monday.”

“About the case?”

“Looks like it…” She gave a frustrated sigh. “I need to go to the office in the morning.”

“Ree, it’s Saturday.” Rafa double checked his watch, confirming that they were definitely in the small hours now, getting up from his stool and slinking over to her, instinctively rubbing at her shoulders.

“I need to prep.” She sighed, the tension in her neck and shoulders already starting to melt. “Can’t do that with the girls around, I’ll be a few hours max.”

Her voice went soft, a satisfied moan escaping her at his touch.

“You need to relax, mija…” He kissed at her neck. “Why don’t we, put this down…” He subtly took hold of her phone and slipped it from her hands, placing it face down on the counter, “and go to bed…?”

His tone seemed to darken, sultry and almost needy. Just enough to work on her.

They retired upstairs, together, she changing into a silky nightdress, he stripping down completely, staying over the sheets to exchange a few, quick pecks before sliding down to lie on their pillows.

His hand wandered up her thigh, the hem of her nightdress hiking over her hips in the process, his kisses moving from her lips, to her jaw, down to the sensitive spot on her neck as he ghosted over her heat.

“I want to see you…” He murmured, his voice still dripping with lust.

She groaned as his teeth teasingly scraped at her skin, his hand pulling the dress further up, hers scratching through the hair at the back of his head, the other starting to paw at his chest, telling him to slow down for a moment.

“… Will you let me try something tonight?” She panted.

His lips left her skin as he leaned in close, looking her in the eye. “What did you have in mind?”

She sat up, pulling out the pillow from under her head and laying back down. Rafa furrowed a brow in utter bewilderment, watching her place the pillow over her own face and just… laying there.

“Okay, go.” Her voice muffled out.

Experimenting with each other was nothing new, although it was much more of a common occurrence in the early years of their little arrangement. Trying new tricks, new positions, new toys and gadgets on each other before they felt confident enough to go and try it out on others. Getting to know the other’s kinks and limits as they went along also came in handy for when circumstances demanded it, like a snow day or two trapping them inside with only themselves for company, or a particularly rough day at work ending with a carnal need to de-stress with someone familiar.

Rafa already knew Rita wasn’t too keen on breath play, so the turn of events that night confused him a little. He wasn’t sure what the hell she was trying out this time, but was willing to help nonetheless.

The hand that now rested on her inner thigh carried on, teasing her lower lips and soft folds, his free one pulling the silk down to expose her tits, rising and falling with her excitable gasps. His lips suckled on her nipple, lapping around the nub, pulling and letting her go with lewd pops, her moans softer through the fabric than usual, hips rocking and writhing into the mattress.

His hands over her, inside her, were warm, broad, and knowing. She tried her hardest to imagine, letting her fantasies take hold from the safety of their bedroom. Of the men from her past and her screens, the women in dive bars and lavish hotel rooms alike. Never in her office before, but the more her mind wandered…

His fingers didn’t feel like his anymore, even if they did know exactly where to curl and rub to get her pleasure building.

“God, you feel so good…”

His husking dirty talk and sweet nothings were so muffled, he started to sound like someone else…

“Taking my fingers so well… Good god… G—"

‘Good girl.’

She wasn’t moaning for him anymore, images flashing through her mind, red hair on top of her.

‘Good girl… God, good girl… You feel so good… Good girl—'

This was not appropriate.

Her whole frame went stiff and her gut grew cold. Maybe she’d finally found where she drew the line. Maybe she was a disgusting, perverted freak.

And Rafa noticed too, stopping almost violently in his tracks as she froze, pulling out his fingers and using them instead to nudge at her shoulder.

“Rita… Ree—"

She just groaned under there. Mostly out of shame, or maybe frustration, but he didn’t need to know that. Or know why.

“I mean… I get it, I think, but…” He sighed, “I usually like seeing the face of whoever I’m having sex with. Right now, you’re making me feel like a predator—"

She frustratedly threw the pillow off her face and down over her body, covering her pussy to hide the squirming, a look of utter defeat painted on her face as she gulped.

Rafa just matched her expression in sympathy. It wasn’t the first time trying something new also didn’t work for them.

“Never mind, then…” She finally sighed back, reaching up to stroke at his cheek. “I’m actually kinda tired, is it okay if we leave it for now?”

“Sure.” He said. He could usually tell when she got a little embarrassed, and it really didn’t matter as much as she made out, sometimes. So he just leaned in for one more kiss before turning into his side of the bed, letting her rearrange her own pillows before doing the same.

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

The alcohol still making its way out her system made her fall over a little easier that night. But that didn’t make her sleep any more restful, the thoughts and images racing one after another, a stream of her most heinous, subconscious desires.

‘Oh fuck, fuck…!’

Casey pants in her ear, her fingers pumping and curling inside, only getting faster with Rita moaning underneath her.

‘Fuck… Oh God…!’

‘Good girl… Good girl…’

On the couch in her office, Rita’s hands clasp around the back of Casey’s neck for dear life, the bright red neckerchief brushing against her face.

‘Oh, God, I’m gonna come…’

‘Come for me, come for me… Good girl… Good girl…’

The surge of pleasure seemed to crash strongly enough for Rita to wake with a start. It was still dark out the window on the other side of the room, but her stiffened muscles told her she’d been under for a while. And her phone, that she managed to sneak upstairs with her but still lay face down on her nightstand, only confirmed it. 7.04am. So she got up, stretched, showered, and tried her best to forget her dreams by just getting on with her day.

But of course, the ones she tried to forget were always the ones that stuck around. The panting and grunting in her ear accompanied her from the apartment, to the car, up the elevator and into the office as daylight finally broke.

The cleaners had already gotten started, vacuuming carpets and washing down the kitchen, a spot in the middle of the plastic flooring piled with what had been swept up in there, ready for the trash, mostly glitter streamers, empty cups and bottle caps.

And that was where Rita spotted it. The red neckerchief that disappeared from around Casey’s neck, lying unfurled, splayed out on the floor. She looked around, seeing none of them were watching before she bent down beside it, picking up the surprisingly silky fabric and stuffing it into her purse before striding straight toward her office.

She, almost thankfully, managed to get lost in the paperwork for a while, focusing her mind in the relative quiet, away from the kids, from the million and one interruptions she would otherwise get on a weekday, moving between her emails and the files in front of her with relative ease.

She took a sip of her coffee, and soon enough she heard that voice in the back of her head again…

‘How many cups have you had today?’

She put down Number Three and rolled her chair back a little, getting a glimpse of her purse underneath her desk, and the red scarf poking out the top of it…

‘I never liked Christmas… It’s always too loud—’

Her curiosity peaked once more, she picked up her phone and dialed.

She might not have even needed to call, lest she heard Alex’s pained groaning as she picked up all the way from the Upper West Side.

“Uuugh… Rita? What’s up?” Her voice was still thick with sleep, shuffling noises around her suggesting she was still very much in bed.

“Sorry to bother you today… How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.” She mumbled. “Is it urgent?”

“Not urgent, just a quick one… It was you that checked Casey’s references when she applied, right?”

“Oh, God, what did she do last night?”

“No, no, she didn’t do anything…” Rita picked up her purse and lay it across her lap. “She just mentioned something, I was curious.”

“Yeah, I checked her references, five stars across the board… Although, now I think about it—”

She stopped what she was doing. “Oh, God—”

“No it’s fine, it wasn’t a dealbreaker…” Alex let out an audible yawn, prolonging Rita’s torture of Not Knowing. “… Just her last place, I think they said her attendance took a nosedive about halfway through. When they asked her about it, she said she was having some personal issues, bad breakup, or something like that.”

“Well…” Rita palmed for the scarf and pulled it out her purse, thumbing over the stitches around the edges with her free hand as they spoke. “We’ve all been there.”

“Apparently she came back the next week and it was like it never happened, so I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Okay, thanks…” She sighed. “So, what time did you end up crawling home at last night?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Rita chuckled to herself a little. “Happy hangover.”

“Ugh, shut the fu—"

Rita hung up before letting Alex incriminate herself anymore, a smug smirk on her face. Oh, the amount of times she'd learned that lesson the hard way for herself through the years.

She dropped her purse back to the floor by the handles and tossed her phone onto the desk, leaving her two free hands to explore the thin, chiffon-like material between her fingers. She weaved it between the gaps, around her palms, so utterly fascinated by where it was, around the thin column of Casey’s neck, just a few hours earlier.

She was very aware of her solitude, having the whole floor to herself while her employees slept off the night’s escapades or in with their loved ones. Yet here she was, choosing neither, filling out paperwork and sending emails while strangely enamored by a fucking scarf.

It all bordered on insanity, those thoughts that started to creep back, but she was finally alone with them. If she could keep them to the confines of the room, leave them locked in here when she returned to her family that afternoon, then surely there was no harm done?

She looked out at the window, wondering who might be watching, who might be thinking the same of her, miniscule figures in miniscule windows that didn’t really matter in the long run. Erring on the side of caution anyway, she took the remote from the desk and pressed a few buttons, the motor on the window blinds whirring as they descended, likewise on the interior glass looking out into the hall. She couldn’t risk even one cleaner still milling around.

She got up from her desk and walked to the door, double checking it was locked, while wondering for whose benefit she decided to wear heels today? Or her full skirt suit, for that matter? Every part of her life felt like a performance, and finally, this was a moment just for her.

She untucked her blouse as she made herself at home on the couch, the scarf still wrapped around her knuckles on her left, leaning that elbow on the armrest for comfort. She inspected it closer, and closer, until red brushed against her face, the other woman’s scent still lingering. Honey, jasmine, a hint of earthiness this close. It was as soft as she remembered, as she imagined the night before.

It was right under her nose before she had time to think, letting herself be enveloped in the fragrance, exciting her in ways she’d never foreseen. She brought her free hand around her back and unzipped her skirt, giving her room for that same hand to sneak under it, around to her front, wrestling to get beneath the pantyhose and reaching through the side of her underwear.

She closed her eyes and allowed her fingers to move, her thoughts to run free, circling over tender flesh and toying with the nerves hidden beneath…

‘Good girl… That’s my good girl… Fuck, you take it so well… Look at you… You gonna come for me…? Go on, come for me…’

Rita muffled her grunts into the scarf, every heaving breath consumed with thoughts of her, and the imagined sound of her voice in her ear…

‘Good girl… Good girl…’

“Good morning.” Rita murmured, nuzzling into the crook of Casey’s neck.

“… It sure is.” She sighed back, a bigger, more relaxed smile now creeping across her face as she left a gentle peck on the other woman’s cheek.

Their naked limbs intertwined effortlessly, pulling each other closer and melting into the embrace. They no longer had anything to prove, they could just be, together. It was all either of them had been craving, all along. Warm breaths on their skin, warm kisses and warm touches across their bodies, fingers tracing lightly over each bump and freckle and scar.

And now they had all the time in the world to do just that. There was no rush anymore, they could always pick up where they left off later.

Casey’s kisses slowed, allowing time for a smile, for a quick gaze into her love’s eyes, before finally unravelling herself and moving from under the sheets.

“I’ll make a start on breakfast.”

Rita turned over in the bed, watching Casey throw on a hoodie and basketball shorts from the drawers.

“You’re sure we can’t just order in?”

“We’re not exactly spoiled for choice around here…” Casey turned back to her, finally dressed. “The diner’s forty minutes away, and it doesn’t even open ‘til eleven.”

Rita simply pouted. She knew it wasn’t an option, really, but any excuse to keep Casey close for just a little longer. Now that she could.

“Hey, you were the one that decided on the quiet life.”

That finally got a smile out of her, making sure she caught Casey’s eye as she did. “… Still the best decision I ever made.”

Casey crawled on top of the sheets on her own side, reaching over for another, small kiss.

“How about I put on some coffee? Will that do while we wait?”

“Sounds perfect.”

The kitchen was in dire need of renovating. The whole house was, really. The floorboards creaked, the painted and papered walls alike almost hilariously outdated, metal furnishes tarnished and wooden furnishes chipping. But something stopped them whenever the conversation came up. A gut feeling that neither of them wanted to let it any of it go. Stuck on the idea that they could freeze time, get a do-over, meet under less dubious circumstances next time around.

Casey prepped the coffee pot and reached for the mugs in the cabinet while she waited. The hinges were a little loose again in their aging frames, just another DIY job for her to add to the list, learning as she made her way through it each weekend.

She started to prep for breakfast, gathering the eggs and veggies from the fridge, still as fresh as they got them from the farmer’s market. But being down to their last few slices of bread meant a trip to the bakery once they were ready to face the day.

Rita emerged into the kitchen, tying her silk robe around herself on the way to the coffee pot, her hair already swooped into a low bun, pouring out two generous mugfuls and stopping to take a sip of her own, savoring the deep, rejuvenating scent.

“Want some help?” She asked.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Then I’m gonna take this outside.” She ducked up to leave another kiss on Casey’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Casey was surprised her face didn’t ache more recently, with the amount of girlish smirking she’d been doing as of late. She just couldn’t believe this was finally her life, watching Rita slide open the doors to the back patio, more of a balcony looking out onto a stunning view of the lake.

Rita found even taking a few minutes each morning to pause, to take in the sights, was enough to clear her mind for the day ahead. The water seemed to stretch for miles, each side lined by bright green trees, the mountains on the far side almost disappearing into the sparse clouds. It looked, and felt, like heaven to them.

It was the main reason they bought this place over the others. The quiet life, brought to life. No neighbours for miles, the seclusion brought with it a peace of mind neither of them had felt for years.

Rita sat her coffee on the wide ledge and rested her arms on it. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh air. Air that finally smelled of just… nothing. Not cologne, or cigar smoke, or stale walls or even staler suits. Just fresh air, with the occasional waft of a fucking great coffee.

She had no idea how she’d managed to go without this, for all these years. All that time on the go, running toward a goal or away from her doubts, she wondered how she hadn’t dropped dead from the stress of it all.

It was only now, being able to take the time to do and be nothing at all, did she realise that all the distractions she used to fill the void in her life, overworking herself as an attorney, the shift into politics, climbing up and up and up that ladder, couldn’t possibly compare. She’d seen it all now, the best and the worst of it, been there, done that, earned the fucking t-shirt. Yet none of it could compete with that peaceful morning, her mind and her heart finally slowing down, listening to the sizzling of the frying pan coming from the kitchen behind her.

That was until Casey spotted something through the kitchen window, the familiar blue uniform making the long trek down the gravel drive, toward the front of the house. The usual USPS guy, with his dog in tow, Casey preferred to meet him halfway, save him at least part of a trip.

“I’ll be back in a sec…!” She called through, turning off the stove and sliding on the first pair of sneakers that came to hand at the door.

She shielded her eyes from the blaring morning sun with her hand, breaking into an almost jog along the gravel, his dog seemingly more excited to see her than he was, barrelling towards her for pets.

“Hey, Toto…!”

She crouched down and ruffled the fur on the mutt's head, with quick scratches behind his ears, his fluffy tail wagging at speeds previously unknown.

“Sorry, I’m all out of treats for you…!”

Rita padded back through the house, now watching the interaction through the kitchen window, coffee in hand but keeping her distance.

“Good morning, Casey!”

“Morning, Doug… Thanks…”

She watched Casey take the large, padded envelope and flyers from his hands, retreating back down the path, but not without a few more pets for Toto, who seemed a little more reluctant to follow his actual owner back toward the main road.

The front door crashed open again, Casey slamming it shut behind her as she slid back out her shoes, returning them to the rack and heading straight back to the kitchen. She spread the papers out on the counter, sorting through them one by one and placing them in piles for the trash, to be opened, or just to be read.

“Farmer’s Market, we already go… Matt Waterhouse for County Sheriff, yeah whatever… Amazon are hiring in your area, yeah okay… Ace Hardware Lakeside, 30% off… That might actually be useful—"

But Rita was more interested in the envelope, the one that outsized them all and seemed to weigh the same as a brick. “… What’s this?”

Casey took it from her hands, instantly recognising the handwriting. “Uh more mail, from my parents…”

They were still forwarding it on themselves, rather than getting it rerouted, putting it all in a large, padded envelope, or a box on occasion. She was just grateful they knew how to spot the junk destined straight for the trash before sending it up now, the death threats thrown straight out alongside the credit card offers and car loan scams, saving her from reading them herself.

She tore open the envelope and reached in, pulling out a few more, smaller, whiter envelopes. She spotted the return address on the back of one of them, scribbled in crayon, and knew exactly what it was, holding it out in Rita’s direction.

“One for you.”

“… Really?” She took it cautiously from Casey’s hand.

“Yeah, another drawing from Avery, by the look of it…”

Rita tore it open, still semi-cautious, until she spotted the paper folded into quarters on the inside, the wax crayon visible on the other side. She couldn’t help the chuckle she let out as she unfolded it, taking in the drawing of two stick figures, one in a red dress, one in blue, one with brown hair, one with orange, in front of a house drawn in brown. It looked nothing like theirs, but how was this kid supposed to know any better? And some words, scrawled in black crayon in the corner.

Aunt Cece and Rita in there new house by Avery Novak

“This kid is too cute.”

“She really is…”

Rita placed the drawing down gently on top of the small bundle on the counter, letting out a little sigh. With all this time on their hands now, came the inevitable. All this time, for thoughts.

Thoughts about the future, thoughts about next steps. Accepting the reality that certain ships had already sailed on certain milestones. Even if there were certain things that they both agreed were dealbreakers, knowing they weren’t even up for discussion still stung, just a little.

Then there was the bigger picture. Yes, thanks to Rita’s money, her ongoing subsidies, they were essentially set. But that wasn’t the same as living. And as ideal as it would be to stay in their secluded little corner of paradise until they were both old and grey, they knew it wasn’t realistic. They would both tear their hair out with boredom, eventually.

But that was a problem for another time.

“We can get the rest of this later.” Casey finally turned back to the stove, relighting it and carrying on. The spark took a little longer than a few seconds to light up, just another thing she would have to look at. Or find someone she could call to look at, someone who wouldn’t judge them, who wouldn’t take one look at who answered the door and turn back down the gravel path.

Rita gathered the cutlery and set the kitchen table, of sorts, pouring fresh coffees for the two of them as well as glasses of fresh orange juice before Casey served up their breakfasts of eggs, tomatoes and toast.

The first few moments were always silent, appreciating the food, appreciating the company even more. A moment so mundane, and finally theirs, together.

“How do you feel about dogs?” Casey finally blurted out before taking another bite.

Rita pondered on it for a second. “I’ve… never had one. Dad was allergic, apparently. And… Paul didn’t like them…” She paused on that, taking a larger sip of her coffee. “You like dogs?”

“Yeah, we had a couple, growing up, Golden Retrievers. Never really been in one place long enough to keep one since then. I always kinda missed it, y’know? Having a little buddy that was always excited to see you when you got home.”

“I have you, don’t I?”

Casey smirked before shooting her a look.

“Is this your way of asking if we can get a dog?”

“Just… something to think about.”

“Okay… We’ll think about it.”

They smirked at each other from across the table, polishing off their plates and drinks, Casey loading up the dishwasher while Rita kept looking through the flyers.

“Hey, Case…?”

“Yeah?”

“Take a look…”

Casey stood up straight, closing the dishwasher and turning back towards her. She plucked the next flyer from Rita’s hand and stifled a laugh as she read it.

“… You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Belknap County Animal Rescue Shelter. Open Day’s this weekend.”

“You want to go?”

Rita paused again. Of course she noticed the looks they got now, together or apart in public. And she knew some of it was deserved. They had to pick their battles, choose where to be seen and when. Try to avoid the spotlight, even if it did follow them wherever they went. But they knew they couldn’t live like this forever. That someday, one day, they would get by, they would live a normal day, a normal week, sometime.

And they knew they had to start somewhere.

“Sure.” Rita smiled. “What’s the worst that could happen?”