“Because I love you!”
Although Aya’s hold on her loosened, Genevieve did not immediately fall forward. Instead, she leaned back, clasping onto her girlfriend’s body and refusing to let her go.
“I love you,” she repeated, her words molded whispers in the crook of Aya’s arm. “I missed you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Who said you were going to lose me? I’m not going anywhere. Even if distance keeps us apart for a while, I’m still yours.”
Genevieve never had someone who was hers in so long. They were either temporary loves or long-term affairs that crashed and burned when she wanted to take it to the next level. At some point, a woman in love reached forty and wondered if it really was her all along. What if something was wrong with her? What if she was trying too hard? What if she was surviving a consciousness marked for something else – when the whole world was too busy shoving what she truly wanted in her face?
“Do you mean that?” Genevieve turned in Aya’s arms, fingertips tracing the angles of such an angelic face. “Do you really love me, Aya?”
“Yes. I love you.” Both of Aya’s thumbs wiped the stale tracks of tears away from Genevieve’s cheeks. “Do you really love me, Genevieve?”
The way she said Genevieve’s name was so soft and fragrant, like a rose after it had first bloomed in a well-tended garden. “I do. I love you so much it hurts me. Because I don’t know how real it is. I don’t know if it’s a love that will condemn me to more pain.”
“Since I first met you, you’ve been like a queen locked away in her metaphorical palace. You’re surrounded by fine and pretty things, but you’re always taking the burden of your failures entirely onto your shoulders. I doubt most of your heartbreaks have been only because of you. Those women weren’t right for you. I am.”
She was so assured when she asserted that, Genevieve couldn’t help but believe her. For a second, at least. “You’re too good to be true,” she said with a sniff. “Everything has happened too easily. We met, we flirted, we made love, and then we fell in love? Just like that. Like a script someone wrote for us.”
“Why not? It happens all the time to others. Why shouldn’t it finally happen to us?”
“But… we’re so different!”
“Are we? Genny, why are you trying to make this not work? I’m not afraid of change. I’m more afraid of letting you fall through my fingers and always wondering if you were the real love of my life.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m looking for differences to convince myself I can miss the heartbreak again.”
“I can’t promise you we’ll be together forever. I’m not stupid enough to believe the power of words can manifest a fairytale ending, but I know that I love you, and I’m willing to put in the work to be with you and to understand you. You’re a woman worth loving and understanding.”
Genevieve steadied herself against Aya’s arms. The more she calmed her nerves, the tighter that collar felt around her throat.
She wasn’t afraid, though. Aya wouldn’t hurt her. If anything, that constricting touch was what she had searched for since she was old enough to fall in love for the first time.
I want a fairytale love that will transcend my own life. She wanted passion that brought her excitement every day. She wanted respect and understanding that cemented the safety she sought. And she wanted a friendship stronger than any other she had experienced before.
She wanted all three things in one person. Most of all, Genevieve wanted it from the person who made her swoon with one first-time look.
“I’m not a queen,” Genevieve said. “I’m just a woman. A scared one. I’m a coward.”
“You’re my queen.” Aya tipped up her girlfriend’s chin. “I’ll protect your honor. And your heart.”
Before Genevieve could contest, a kiss came for her lips. Just like that, the walls around Genevieve’s heart were penetrated.
Her prince had finally arrived. Come to save me. Come to claim me.
The more Genevieve allowed herself to fall deeper into love, the more elated her soul became. She was floating. She wasn’t alone.
“I need you,” she whispered against Aya’s mouth when she was finally allowed to breathe again. “Tell me that you need me too.”
“I can do better than that.” Aya swept her up into a half-carry that lasted as long as it took to bring Genevieve to the bed. “I can show you.”