Remy lay awake, her body still, but her mind was anything but calm. The events of the previous night replayed over and over in her head, the echoes of their fight still fresh. Drea's warmth next to her was a bittersweet reminder that things were still fragile, that despite their late-night conversation, they were standing on shaky ground.
Drea stirred beside her, the rustling of the sheets signaling that she was awake too. Remy held her breath, not wanting to break the delicate silence between them just yet. She could feel the weight of unresolved tension lingering in the air.
Eventually, Drea shifted, sitting up slowly. Remy watched her out of the corner of her eye, taking in the tired expression on her face. It was clear that Drea hadn't slept well either. Without a word, Drea swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching slightly before heading to the bathroom.
Remy let out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling. She had promised to show Drea she was committed, but even after their conversation, she wasn't sure where they stood. The fear of losing her, of pushing Drea away, still gnawed at her insides. She needed to make things right—really right—but didn't know how to start.
A few minutes later, Drea emerged from the bathroom, her expression neutral as she avoided looking directly at Remy. She headed to the closet, pulling out a pair of leggings and a hoodie, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing second. Remy hated it—the quiet, the distance—but she didn't want to push. Not yet.
"I'm going to take a walk," Drea said quietly, her voice breaking the tension. It wasn't a question, just a statement, and Remy could tell Drea wasn't inviting her to join.
"Okay," Remy replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Take your time."
Drea didn't respond as she grabbed her phone and slipped out of the bedroom, leaving Remy alone in the bed. The sound of the front door clicking shut a moment later felt like a punch to the gut.
She sat up, running a hand through her hair as she tried to collect herself. It wasn't like Drea to walk out without at least offering a goodbye or a kiss. Even when they were upset with each other, there was always some acknowledgment that they were still connected. But this time was different. This time, Drea was creating space—space that Remy feared might grow too wide to cross.
The rest of the morning passed in a haze. Remy tried to distract herself by cleaning up around the house, folding Brielle's laundry, and organizing the kitchen. But no matter what she did, the gnawing pit in her stomach remained, and her thoughts kept drifting back to Drea. How could she fix this? How could she prove to her wife that she was all in, that she would never take their marriage for granted again?
By the time Drea returned from her walk, it was nearly noon. Remy had been pacing the living room, her nerves fraying with every minute that passed. When she heard the front door open, she froze, her heart racing. She didn't want to seem too eager, too desperate, but the truth was, she was terrified that Drea's time alone had only solidified her doubts.
Drea entered the living room, her expression guarded. She didn't meet Remy's eyes as she set her phone and keys down on the table, and the tension in the air was palpable.
"How was your walk?" Remy asked tentatively, trying to ease the tension.
"It was fine," Drea replied shortly, her voice clipped. She headed toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.
Remy hesitated, her heart pounding. She didn't want to push Drea too soon, but the silence was unbearable. She needed to know where they stood.
"Babe," she began softly, stepping into the kitchen. "Can we talk? I feel like we need to..."
