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Charis chapter 6

Hannah stumbles down the stairs with the heat of Grace's lips still burning against hers.
Behind her, she hears Grace calling her name desperately and plunges into the crowd to lose herself. She hears Mamrie's laugh nearby and automatically veers away from it, heading for the door. The night air is chilly against her overheated skin and she shivers as she pushes her way through the remaining photographers to the line of taxis nearby. She climbs in, gives her address in a shaking voice and spends the journey home fitfully pressing her fingers to her lips, trying to shake off the lingering taste of Grace. Her hands are trembling so much that it takes her three attempts to get her key in the door, and once she gets inside she heads for the kitchen with the vague idea that water will help her sober up, help her make sense of the night. She gulps the water messily, willing herself to calm. A hand lands on her shoulder and she drops her glass in shock. As it shatters against the tile, she hears Eric's voice.
"Shit!"
She spins around to see him standing barefoot among the glittering shards.
"Damn it," she says, "don't move." As she grabs a brush to clear a path for him, she feels tears streak down her cheeks.
"Hey," Eric says tenderly, "what's wrong?"
"I'm fine," Hannah insists, awkwardly sweeping around him until he can safely move.
"Hey," he says, taking the broom from her and gingerly stepping to a clean stretch of floor. "Talk to me."
Hannah's face crumples and she throws herself into his arms, sobbing. He wraps her a hug, gently stroking her hair as she clings to him.
"Hey, hey," he says softly, "it's okay. I've got you. I'm here, it's going to be okay."
Guilt floods through her and she looks up at him with wide, watery eyes for a moment before kissing him desperately.
"Whoa, Hannah, what-"
"Take me to bed," she says urgently, "please?"
He frowns at her, baffled, but nods and kisses her. She tugs off his shirt, determined to forget the feeling of Grace's body pressed against hers.
The next morning she wakes up with an awful hangover and only just makes it to the bathroom before throwing up. She slides down the wall, shivering against the cool tile and willing her stomach to settle, when Eric comes in with a large glass of water.
"Here," he says, "drink this."
She mumbles her thanks and sips gingerly at the water.
"Can we talk about last night now?" Eric asks.
"I'm sorry, babe," Hannah says, "I was a mess."
"Yeah, you were," he agrees, "what happened?"
Hannah rubs at her face.
"I had a fight with a friend and I was drunk and emotional. I'm sorry."
"That's all it was?" Eric asks.
"Yeah. It's been a long couple of weeks at work and I guess the stress got to me."
Eric sits down beside her and strokes her knee tenderly.
"You know you can talk to me about this stuff, right?"
She leans against him, soaking in his warmth and trying to ignore the oppressive guilt clouding her mind.
"I know, it was just dumb stuff."
"Okay. How about I call into work and we can spend the day together?"
"Babe, no, you don't have to do that. Go to work, I'll be fine."
"You sure?"
"Positive. I'm fine, I'm going to have something incredibly unhealthy for breakfast and spend the day watching Netflix."
Her faux-cheerful demeanour isn't particularly convincing but she's hoping he'll assume it's because of the hangover. He frowns at her, obviously wanting to stay.
"Eric, go to work before I puke on you."
Eric laughs gently and holds up his hands in surrender.
"Drink plenty of water, okay?"
"Sure," Hannah mumbles as her stomach turns slow, nauseous cartwheels. "That'll help."
She stays in the bathroom until she's certain that Eric has left, then gingerly climbs to her feet. Her heads throbs sickeningly as she heads back into the bedroom and she stumbles slightly over her jacket, thrown haphazardly aside the night before as she tried to lose herself in Eric's body. She picks it up and fumbles her phone out of her pocket. The battery is dead, so she grabs the charger and tumbles into bed, head spinning. She plugs the phone in and turns it on, intending to call in to work, but as soon as it picks up a signal the phone starts to vibrate with a deluge of notifications. Three missed calls from Grace, two from Mamrie and 18 text messages. She closes her eyes as the events of the previous night crash over her again. Despite sleeping with Eric last night, she can still feel the softness of Grace's lips against hers, the lightning flash of arousal as their bodies had pressed together, the soft warmth of alcohol on Grace's tongue. She squeezes her eyes shut and rolls over to Eric's side of the bed, pressing her face into his pillow. The strong tang of his sweat and the faint, lingering scent of their lovemaking fill her nose and she bites her lip as her stomach turns again.
"What do I do now?" She whispers to the empty room, but before she can even begin to think about it her gorge rises and she makes another wild dash to the bathroom. When her stomach is finally empty, she returns to the bedroom and flops back onto the bed, exhausted. She manages to send a text to her assistant before falling into an uneasy sleep.
She's woken by the sound of hammering at her door and the quiet buzz of her phone. She glances at the screen, sees Mamrie's name and groans briefly as she answers.
"Hey Mamrie, I-"
"Let me in, Hannah," Mamrie instructs sternly.
"That's you?" Hannah asks, and climbs out of bed. She avoids the pile of glass shards and opens the door, wincing against the bright afternoon sunlight.
"I swear to God I'm going to murder you two," Mamrie says by way of greeting, hanging up the phone.
"Mames, what-?"
"Grace told me what happened. I had to take her back to my place last night to make sure she didn't try and follow you home."
Hannah hangs her head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have run out last night."
"Are you kidding? You absolutely should have. Getting out before it turned into more of a mess was the smartest thing you could have done. I only came here to make sure you hadn't fled the country again. What's going on?"
"I don't know," Hannah says wretchedly.
"I thought you two worked things out?" Mamrie says gently.
"We... we kind of just agreed not to talk about it."
Hannah hears a gentle thud and looks up to see Mamrie rhythmically thumping her head against the wall, a pained expression on her face.
"Mamrie."
"Okay, that's it," Mamrie says determinedly. "Sit your ass down. I'm calling Grace and we're sorting this out right now."
"Mames, no!" Hannah says, but Mamrie is already dialling. When Grace answers she rattles off the address over Hannah's protests and hangs up.
"Mamrie!"
"No, Hannah, this bullshit has been going on for way too long. Either you two deal with it or you stop seeing each other at all, but I'm not letting you tear each other apart again. Got it?"
Hannah's heart thumps in her chest and her eyes start to brim with tears. Mamrie's expression softens and she gathers Hannah into a warm hug.
"Hey, it's okay. I know this is going to suck, I just can't stand to see you hurting each other."
Hannah hugs Mamrie tightly and they stand together for a long moment as Hannah gets herself under control.
"Okay," she says finally. "You're right. This needs to stop."
Hannah makes them both some tea as they wait and twenty minutes later there's a tentative knock at the door. Hannah's heart starts thumping in her chest as Mamrie goes to answer it and then there's Grace, looking just as terrified, standing in her kitchen.
"Hey," she mumbles.
"Hey."
Mamrie rolls her eyes.
"Okay you two, let's do this. Grace, talk."
"Uh, Hannah, I'm sorry about last night-"
"Nope." Mamrie interrupts. "This isn't just about last night. You guys need to really talk."
They look at each other blankly. Grace bites her lip and Hannah swallows. Mamrie rolls her eyes.
"Wow, you guys are terrible at this. Grace, tell the girl how you feel for God's sake!"
Grace inhales sharply, but nods.
"I fucked up," she says, "when I told you we had to stop, back then. I wasn't...I didn't...I meant the Eris thing had to stop so we could figure out what we were to each other. I didn't know how I felt. I'm sorry."
Hannah swallows hard, screws up her courage and asks the question she's been hiding from for years.
"How do you feel, Grace? Why did you kiss me last night?"
Grace frowns and her arms go around herself defensively. Mamrie nudges her and gives her a supportive smile.
"Before you left," Grace begins, "towards the end, sometimes I felt like it was Eris being with you but sometimes it felt like it was just me. I thought I was helping, at first."
Mamrie snorts.
"I did. But when I realised how messed up everything was, I didn't want to stop. That scared me. We were friends, you know, and I thought I was keeping everything separate and then that night in your office I just... that wasn't Eris. It was all me."
"What night in her office?" Mamrie asks. They both flush at the memory and Mamrie shakes her head.
"Never mind, I don't want to know!"
Grace won't look at Hannah, but she keeps talking.
"I watched you sleep afterwards. You were in my bed, snoring and drooling and I realised I wanted you to stay there. It scared me so much, Hannah. I'd never been friends with a client before, never brought one home, never had feelings for a woman. Everything was so out of control. I just needed some space to work out what was going on, but then you ran!"
"You wanted me?" Hannah asks, shocked.
"I don't know," Grace says miserably.
"Oh for-" Mamrie interrupts impatiently, "Yes, Grace, you did, and seeing as you can't be around her without trying to kiss her, you obviously still do!"
They both stare at her.
"Seriously, guys? Are you really this dense? You fucked each other for the better part of a year then ran to opposite ends of the planet and married a dude to try and get over each other. I should smack your damn heads together."
"I didn't marry anyone," Grace says, her tone slightly accusing.
"I'm pissed off, Grace, leave my syntax alone. But you have a point. What the fuck, Hannah?"
"What?"
"Grace just bared her soul. Your turn."
"Um..."
"Please, Hannah? I need to know too." Grace's eyes are wide and vulnerable, and Hannah has never been able to say no to her.
"When you told me we had to stop," she begins uncertainly, "I thought it was because I told you how I felt. I thought you didn't want anything to do with me. Then when Ellis called to say he was sick, I just saw a way out, you know? I knew Tokyo, I had a system there, a routine. It felt safe. When I got there I could just focus on work and Ellis, but then Eric showed up. We were both hurting so much, we were together all the time and it just happened, you know? I was trying to forget you, to be normal, and he seemed like my best bet. After Ellis died, once everything settled, I decided to stay. He's a good man, a good friend. We've built a good life, even if I don't love him the way he thinks. Even if..."
"If what?" Mamrie asks, her tone gentle.
Hannah sighs and looks away, ashamed.
"There was a girl, for a while after we got married. Nadine. She kind of looked like, uh, like Eris. She's the one that made me realise, every time I fall in love, it falls apart. Eric is safe, you know? I can be happy with him."
Hannah takes another deep breath.
"I love you, Grace. I think I always will. But loving you hurts too much, you know?"
There's a long silence as they all absorb that.
"I'm sorry," Grace says eventually. "I'm so sorry I hurt you."
"I'm sorry I hurt you too," Hannah replies. Mamrie rubs her back and she realises she's crying.
"What do we do?" Grace whispers.
"I think maybe we should take some time," Hannah suggests. "Not be around each other for a while, you know? I don't want to lose you, but I don't trust us right now."
"Best idea you've ever had," Mamrie murmurs.
"Yeah," Grace agrees, "that's probably smart."
They nod, and Hannah swallows against the lump in her throat.
"I really did miss you, you know. You're my best friend."
"Me too," Grace says roughly, and pulls her into a hug.
"Hey!" Mamrie says sharply. "No touching. In fact, here are some ground rules. You are never alone together. You don't drink around each other. If either of you gets the urge to do something dumb, you talk to me. Not each other, me. Got it?"
"Yes, Mamrie," they say in unison. Grace shoots her a small smile.
"We'll try that," Mamrie continues, "and you better damn well make it work because you assholes mean the world to me, you know?"
"Love you too, Mames," Hannah says.
By the end of the conversation Hannah feels like she's run a marathon. Her head is aching from the lingering hangover and the emotional wringing she's endured and she wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep. As Mamrie and Grace prepare to leave, Hannah hugs them both, a little tentatively, but hopeful that they can get back on track, be friends again the way they should have been.
She showers quickly and heads for the bedroom when her phone buzzes against the table. It's Grace.
I hope this works. I really am sorry.
Me too.
Eris is dead. That should make it easier, right? Now that everything's out in the open?
Right. I'll talk to you soon, okay?
Okay.
She goes to sleep clutching her phone, hoping they're right.