Chim- In aeternum

Chapter 10

She takes her time brushing her teeth, using the mouthwash afterwards, finding something for her headache in the medicine cabinet, removing her make-up, all the while expecting Cheryl to appear with guns blazing. She doesn't though, unsettling Kimberley as she walks down the hallway, almost retreating to the guest room before thinking better of it. She needed to talk to the Geordie, at least explain why she'd been distant over the past week. She owed her friend that.

Cheryl's asleep on her daughter's bed, the reading glasses Kimberley's seen her wearing still resting on her nose, a book held open with her right hand. The red blanket she herself had been wrapped in that morning's covering the younger woman now, a bright contrast against the soft green and brown's of Leigh's quilt. She leans against the door frame and simply takes in the sight, recalls waking in the middle of the night to find Cheryl holding her hand as she slept, before she'd woken up the next time to find herself alone in that cold hotel bed. It's not a memory she wants to remember, it never has been, but it suddenly feels worse now that she's looking at the woman she knows she's always loved, in one capacity or another. She didn't care whether she'd been in love with her right from the start. The point was she was in love with her now, had missed her terribly in the ten years she'd been away, had dreamt of her each and every night.

The stars on the ceiling slowly illuminate as she dims the lights, shadows creeping up the walls and over Cheryl's body. Her own darkened form merges with them as she leans down to slide the book from Cheryl's grasp, the remaining light in the room reflecting off the gold cover when she flips it closed. There they were, the five of them in their black dresses, completely unaware that it would all be over in less than six months.

There's statements within the book that she would've bet her life on, wholeheartedly convinced that her and Justin would live happily ever after, naïve enough to think that that was all she wanted and needed. She'd been 26, supposedly full of wisdom and experience, the resulting confidence emanating right out of her eyes in the photo. There'd never been a doubt in her mind when it came to Justin, when it came to her relationship with Cheryl. The second guessing had simply never existed.

It was all she was certain of now. She had the choice to run, slip out into the night, maybe catch another flight to the middle of nowhere. She could also stay, shake Cheryl from the depths of sleep, kiss her like there really was no tomorrow. There were consequences to both, the possibility of a broken heart with either decision. She had Leigh to consider. She wanted to be with her family. She didn't want to be rejected by Cheryl. She wanted the woman in her life. She didn't want to deal with being just a friend. She wanted to be in all the future photos, pulling funny faces with Leigh, getting caught mid laugh with the girls, unknowingly grinning while her nieces and nephews held bunny ears behind her head, suddenly kissing Cheryl as they posed together. She wanted to be able to look back in ten years time and say she'd made up for the ten years she'd spent away from everybody, away from her life, away from the woman she loved.

That woman's still asleep. Kimberley sets the book down on the bedside table, leaning over to gently ease Cheryl's glasses from her face. The Geordie stirs, Kimberley holding her breath.

“Kim?” Cheryl's voice is a whisper, eyes barely opening as she shifts onto her side.

“Ssh...go back to sleep.”

“Hmm,” a hand stretches across the bed towards Kimberley as brown eyes close, “Not without you.”

“Cheryl.”

“Don't go...not this time.”

Kimberley grabs the hand being offered. “I won't.”

She realises then that she really won't, whether things develop between them or they remain friends. She knows it could go either way, but she will not bring any more pain to her friend, even if remaining with her causes her own heartache. She'd rather be miserable for the rest of her life than disappear again.

She doesn't let go of Cheryl's hand as she sets the glasses down on the book, slipping under the blanket and settling on her side. The younger woman's face is inches away on the pillow, their joined hands in between their hearts, Kimberley fighting the sudden urge to close her eyes. She does not want to sleep.

“Love you,” Cheryl whispers as she breathes out.

“Love you more.”

“Doubt it.”

“You'd be surprised.”

Kimberley sees the curious gaze in brown eyes when they open up, a look of surprise and understanding coming a few seconds later. It's obviously written all over her face; Cheryl's clearly seeing it even in the darkness of the room, Kimberley's feelings lying unguarded between them and waiting to be embraced or rejected.

“Kim--”

“It...I think it's just because I've been spending too much – so much – time here, when normally I'd--”

Cheryl silences her with a sharp kiss, Kimberley's brain taking a moment to realise what's happening, a split second passing before she's kissing Cheryl back, hands reaching out for the Geordie, tongues in a wild and passionate dance. This is ten years in the making, long years spent wishing upon Hillston stars, wishing upon Newcastle stars, hopes and regrets clashing together at full speed, Kimberley absently thinking that she'd rather never breathe again, if this is what she could do instead. Cheryl rolls on top of her quickly, stilling any further thoughts, the younger woman's hand running down her thigh to the hem of her dress, stopping in mid movement as her lips slowly draw away.

Kimberley opens her eyes to find an apology written across Cheryl's face, nodding minutely, understanding that it was too much too soon. The Geordie settles along the length of her body, Kimberley's hands wrapping around her tiny frame, content enough to simply hold her friend, whisper a kiss along her hairline.

-----

They don't discuss it the next morning, the next few days passing in a blur with the two of them too preoccupied with preparations for Leigh's return home. The little girl had been walking further down the hospital corridor each day, proudly showing off the crutches Nicola had spray painted pink and glittered. Her therapist and doctor had offered them a sketchy discharge date for Leigh two weeks after her accident, the date suddenly upon Kimberley, like she'd been hibernating from the harsh winter and the heat of the sun had returned.

Ashley's supposed to be arriving any minute now to help with decorations, adamant that he would hang up, cook, carry or do anything Cheryl wanted him to do. The two of them had seemed to Kimberley to get along well enough, the Geordie politely talking to him and his girlfriend of two years – Carleigh – when they'd visited Leigh in the hospital. She'd been moving into the house he'd kept in Surrey the weekend of the accident, Kimberley imagining him in more of a state that she'd been on the plane. She'd hated him with every bone in her body after he'd cheated on Cheryl, had loudly explained to the girls and Justin at the time that she was going to cut his bits off. Her friend had forgiven him though and she'd been forced to bite her tongue. She'd never forgive him for hurting Cheryl, but he'd been making the trip twice a week to see his daughter, and Kimberley could not fault him for that. From everyone's accounts, he was a good father, providing for Leigh financially and emotionally, a little more like the decent man Kimberley had initially liked.

“They're not going to blow themselves, you know.”

She looks over at Cheryl, holding the end of a balloon in between her fingers, that long missed and familiar smirk appearing as they both realise what's been said.

They're still laughing when the doorbell rings ten minutes later, Ashley rolling his eyes as they let him in.