The Final Gift

Chapter 2: The Weight of Silence

The sun was barely rising when Lisa woke up, the pale light of dawn casting a soft glow over the room. Jennie was still asleep beside her, her face peaceful and calm. For a moment, Lisa allowed herself to simply watch her, to take in the sight of the woman she loved more than anything in the world. But even in the quiet serenity of the morning, that gnawing unease from the night before lingered.

Careful not to wake Jennie, Lisa slipped out of bed and padded softly to the kitchen. She busied herself with making coffee, the familiar routine helping to steady her racing thoughts. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but it did little to soothe the knot in her stomach.

As the coffee pot gurgled its last, Lisa leaned against the counter, her mind replaying the conversation from the previous night. Jennie had been so gentle, so caring, but there was something off—something Lisa couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't just in the way Jennie had spoken; it was in the silences between her words, the pauses that seemed to stretch just a little too long.

Lisa poured herself a cup of coffee, the warmth of the mug grounding her as she stared out the window. The city was waking up, cars starting to move along the streets, people heading off to work, to school, to wherever they needed to be. Life was going on, as it always did, but Lisa felt as though she were standing still, trapped in a moment she couldn't escape.

The sound of footsteps behind her pulled Lisa from her thoughts. She turned to see Jennie entering the kitchen, her hair tousled from sleep, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Good morning," Jennie murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep as she wrapped her arms around Lisa from behind.

"Morning," Lisa replied, forcing a smile as she leaned into Jennie's embrace. She could feel Jennie's warmth against her back, but it did little to dispel the coldness that had settled deep in her chest.

"Coffee smells good," Jennie said, reaching for a mug and filling it with the dark liquid. She took a sip, closing her eyes as she savored the taste. "Mmm, perfect."

Lisa watched her, her heart aching at the sight of Jennie's contentment. She wanted to ask—wanted to know if Jennie felt the same distance that she did, if she had noticed the changes that seemed so glaringly obvious to Lisa. But the words stuck in her throat, heavy and immovable.

Instead, she forced herself to focus on the day ahead. "What's on your agenda today?" Lisa asked, trying to keep her voice light, casual.

Jennie leaned against the counter, cradling her mug in both hands. "Work, mostly," she replied with a shrug. "I've got a few meetings and some projects to finish up. Might be a long day."

Lisa nodded, her mind already racing ahead, wondering if Jennie's long day would include time with Klei. She hated the thought, hated the jealousy that curled in her stomach at the idea of Jennie spending time with anyone else, but she couldn't help it. It was irrational, she knew that, but it didn't make the feelings any less real.

"Don't work too hard," Lisa said, her voice softer now, a hint of pleading in her tone. She didn't want to sound desperate, didn't want to let Jennie know just how much this distance was affecting her, but she couldn't stop herself. "We could do something tonight, if you're not too tired."

Jennie smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "That sounds nice," she said, but there was a hesitation in her voice that Lisa couldn't ignore. "Let's see how the day goes, okay?"

"Okay," Lisa agreed, but the word felt like a stone in her mouth, heavy and cold. She wanted to reach out, to close the gap that seemed to be widening between them, but she didn't know how. She felt like she was losing Jennie, and the more she tried to hold on, the more Jennie seemed to slip through her fingers.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of routine—showering, dressing, grabbing their bags. Jennie left first, pressing a quick kiss to Lisa's lips before heading out the door with a soft "I'll see you tonight." But even that kiss felt different, like a habit rather than an expression of love.

Lisa lingered for a moment after Jennie left, the silence of the apartment pressing down on her. She wished she could shake this feeling, this growing certainty that something was wrong, but it clung to her like a shadow, refusing to let go.

As she finally grabbed her own bag and headed out the door, Lisa couldn't help but wonder if this was just a rough patch—a phase they would work through—or if it was the beginning of the end. The thought terrified her, but it was there, lurking in the back of her mind, feeding the doubts that had taken root in her heart.

Lisa arrived at work, throwing herself into her tasks with a focus that was more about distraction than dedication. She didn't want to think about Jennie, about Klei, about the growing distance between them. But no matter how hard she tried to push it aside, the thoughts kept creeping back in, gnawing at her until she could barely concentrate.

The day dragged on, each hour feeling longer than the last. By the time the afternoon rolled around, Lisa's nerves were frayed, her patience worn thin. She glanced at the clock, willing it to move faster, desperate for the day to end so she could go home and see Jennie, even if it was just for a little while.

Finally, the workday ended, and Lisa hurried home, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay—that Jennie would walk through the door and they would fall back into their old rhythm, the one that had felt so natural and easy before. But as the hours ticked by and Jennie still hadn't returned, that hope began to fade.

When the door finally opened and Jennie stepped inside, Lisa's heart leapt with both relief and anxiety. Jennie looked tired, her shoulders slumped, and there was a tension in her expression that Lisa hadn't seen before.

"Hey," Jennie greeted her, her voice soft as she set her bag down by the door.

"Hey," Lisa replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "Long day?"

Jennie nodded, running a hand through her hair as she made her way to the kitchen. "Yeah, it was. I'm sorry, I'm just really beat. Do you mind if we rain-check on tonight?"

The disappointment was like a punch to the gut, but Lisa forced a smile, pushing the feeling down. "Of course. You should rest."

"Thanks," Jennie said, offering a small smile in return. "I'm just going to take a quick shower and then crash, if that's okay."

"Sure," Lisa replied, her voice barely above a whisper as Jennie disappeared down the hallway. She stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where Jennie had just been, her heart heavy with unspoken words.

As she made her way to the bedroom, Lisa couldn't help but feel like she was walking on a tightrope, teetering on the edge of something she didn't want to acknowledge. She wanted to believe that things would get better, that this was just a rough patch they would get through together. But as she lay in bed that night, listening to the sound of Jennie's even breathing beside her, Lisa felt more alone than ever.

And deep down, she knew that something had to change—because if it didn't, she was afraid that the distance between them would only grow, until there was nothing left to hold onto.