I Knew You Were Trouble - 10 (Patreon)

I've absolutely loved seeing the tides turn with this story - exploring both Autumn and Maya more deeply as characters. Growing into seeing Maya as perhaps the most patient person in the HCLU (we should have that in a poll).

And still, more to come!

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Nine-and-a-Half

Autumn couldn’t think about that look on Maya’s face. Or the sound of her voice, that tone. That… tremulous, quiet, almost pleading tone.

Or, worse.

The silence that had followed it. Followed Autumn, on her way out the door.

No, she would not be thinking about that right now.

Right now, she had to stay focused. She nodded at herself, reaffirming that thought, as she rolled her shoulders back and slid into the car.

“Good morning, Hamish.” She firmly snapped the door closed behind her. 

“Good morning,” he greeted back, before hesitating for a beat, then asking, “So, maybe someone is doing an incredible job of spoofing my phone or something, but while I was on my way here, I received a message from the boss herself, who told me she wasn’t going into the office today?”

“No, she sent me the same message,” she mildly agreed, before she arched him a look in the rearview mirror. “But since when does Charlotte take the day off for being sick? Something’s wrong. I’d appreciate you bringing me over to her place to check in.”

Hamish’s lips tugged down thoughtfully. “Fair point.”

A sharp satisfaction – something she hadn’t realized she’d needed, after that conversation with Maya – worked through her. “Thank you!”

And maybe there was a little too much emotion in that, but… whatever.

Even if Maya didn’t agree with her about Charlotte being off, at least Hamish did. It settled inside of her, a validation she’d very much needed.

Still, though, Hamish didn’t pull away from the curb. He lightly tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, instead. For long enough – at least thirty seconds – that it prompted Autumn to ask, “Are… we going to go?”

Honestly, she really needed to go. She needed to not be sitting here, outside of Maya’s apartment. She needed the distance, physically, put between them, so that she could focus on what she did best: her job.

This time when he looked at her, he didn’t do it through the rearview. He turned around to cast her a baffled stare. “I figured we were waiting for the other half…?”

He gestured out the window. At Maya’s building.

Her stomach twisted tightly – any of the slight relief she’d taken by not being in Maya’s immediate proximity, breathing her in, returned in an instant. That terrible, confusing feeling of both fluttering and sinking worked through her, as she felt the heat bite at her cheeks.

Which, damn it, she also hated.

“Maya isn’t coming,” she primly stated, clenching her jaw. Other half. What in the freaking world was that about? Other half?!

Maya certainly wasn’t her “other half” and she would appreciate if Hamish didn’t refer to her as such.

Ever again.

Hamish slowly nodded, turning to settle back in his seat. He adjusted his seatbelt before flicking the indicator on to pull back into the street.

“Ah, okay.” After a few seconds, when they’d pulled out onto the road and had started driving, he cleared his throat. “I was saying the other half of Charlotte’s assistant duo. For the record.”

Autumn took in a long, deep breath through her nose, holding it for a few beats.

And that tumult inside of her was able to calm, minutely.

He had said the other half, now that she thought about it. Not her other half – there was a very important difference in those turns of phrase.

Despite the fact that this was far from the first morning Hamish was picking her up from Maya’s place – and that he’d most definitely dropped her off here in the evenings even more than he’d picked her up in the morning – he never commented on it.

Which was why it had been so jarring when she’d thought he was.

Because… he shouldn’t. Hamish keeping quiet about everything he may or may not witness made sense. He worked for Charlotte. Much like Autumn and Maya, he was privy to a lot about her. All of her comings and goings, overhearing phone calls; part of his job – a large part of his job – was about maintaining the utmost respect for her privacy.

Hamish, truth be told, was essentially a steel trap.

Maybe that was what she’d always found so appealing about him. He had a very quiet, calming energy that she appreciated in a person.

Which made no fucking sense why she’d found herself embroiled with Maya, she thought derisively. Maya had the opposite of a quiet energy.

She bit at her cheek with so much force, she tasted blood. No thoughts of Maya. That was done for now. It was time to think of Charlotte.

“When we get closer to Charlotte’s, I’d appreciate if we could stop at a CVS,” she said, pulling out her tablet from her work bag that she’d grabbed on her way out. “I think we might need provisions.”

“You got it.”

***

It was a lot easier to push Maya out of her mind after she was at Charlotte’s.

And for that, Autumn was more grateful than she’d be able to possibly put into words.

Having Charlotte confide in her – having Charlotte reciprocate that Autumn was the closest thing she had to a friend?! – felt like she’d hit the jackpot when it came to validation.

Take that, Maya.

Charlotte was in crisis. For fuck’s sake, she’d told Sutton Spencer that she wouldn’t run for president! She’d agreed to giving up her career in politics if it meant she and Sutton could be together!

Sure, perhaps Maya had been right. Perhaps Charlotte wasn’t sick in any sort of traditional sense, and perhaps she could have worked through all of this on her own.

But something was deeply, intrinsically, wrong.

And Autumn had known it.

She managed to keep her head held high because of that. She’d been correct. Charlotte wasn’t okay. And, obviously, she’d wanted someone to talk to, even if she wouldn’t ask for it. Because, again, Autumn was right; Charlotte would have never asked for this.

In a way – a very fucked up way, but she could acknowledge that – it made her feel better.

Not the fact that Charlotte was in crisis, no. That didn’t make her feel better.

But the fact that she’d left Maya’s for a reason. That she’d been right! Charlotte wasn’t totally fine, just playing hooky or lounging around with a head cold.

Not only had she been right, but… it made the fact that she’d left Maya’s worthwhile. It made that tone of Maya’s voice – the one Autumn could still hear and feel, biting into her, trying to grip at the back of her mind – easier to brush away.

In the most fucked up way, she enjoyed that Charlotte relied on her. That… someone… relied on her. Needed her.

She let that satisfaction settle inside of her – working very hard to push away the look on Maya’s face and the tone of her voice, which was still imprinted in her mind – by the early afternoon, as she set up the Game of LIFE that she’d ordered, arranging the pieces on Charlotte’s coffee table.

She held the small, clear bag up for Charlotte. “Which color car do you want to be?”

Charlotte, walking in from the kitchen with two cans of seltzer water in her hands, froze, frowning at her. “Excuse me?”

She lightly shook the bag, resolutely not allowing any feeling of embarrassment to take hold at the ludicrous stare she was receiving.

If this was a workday and she’d said or done something that caused Charlotte to pause mid-step and stare at her like she was out of her mind, it would be a different story. But today, right now, they were friends.

So, she repeated, “What color car do you want to be?”

Charlotte arched an eyebrow at her. “Yes, I see the cars, Autumn. I do not understand them.”

She frowned, incredulously, looking between the game and Charlotte before she asked, “Have you never played Life?”

“I live it,” Charlotte answered, smartly, as she finally started walking toward her again.

Autumn couldn’t help but just… stare in confusion.

Even if Charlotte hadn’t been big into board games when she was little, she didn’t even know the game? It appeared not, as she studied the cover of the box, curiously, as she settled onto the couch.

“What is the premise?” Charlotte asked, before she shook her head, seeming to cut off her own thought process. “No, wait – first things first – where did you even get it? I don’t own this.”

“I can get access to almost anything,” Autumn responded, incredulously.

A board game was easy – everything like this, simple retail, was available to be ordered from a store. But while working for Charlotte, Autumn had learned a great deal about how to get her foot in the door just about anywhere. It was a necessity – she wasn’t going to be the person that told Charlotte “sorry, I couldn’t make that happen.”

And, in fairness, it was made very simple with Charlotte’s name.

Shaking her head, she refocused. “Um… anyway. The point of Life is that everyone who plays uses the car – and a little fake person who “drives” the car – as the representation of themselves in the game. Then you drive all over the board and are presented with different scenarios.”

Charlotte’s lips pulled into a thoughtful frown as she leaned in and studied the board Autumn had just set up. “I see.”

It, objectively, was incredibly amusing to see Charlotte Thompson looking at a board game like it was a set of notes to study before a big meeting.

And Autumn couldn’t help but ask, “You really never played this?”

Charlotte glanced at her, seeming just as baffled as Autumn was, at her confusion. “I have not,” she confirmed. She hesitated, rolling her lips, like she was debating how much she actually wanted to share.

Which made sense, because before today, Charlotte likely wouldn’t have shared any elaboration about what was on her mind.

But today was different. She’d confided in Autumn already about her romantic relationship with Sutton! Which was really a big thing, because it had been unspoken for months. At just about any point in the last few months – when Charlotte had gotten into contact with Sutton, their frequent texts and calls, her sending Sutton and Lucy a gift basket, buying Lucy gifts while she was babysitting, going to the toy emporium, Charlotte spending the holidays with Sutton… all of these were moments that Autumn was involved in, indirectly. All of these moments were an opening for Charlotte to share that she and Sutton were involved, even without any further details.

But she hadn’t. She’d kept it all to herself.

Today, though, she’d not only disclosed their relationship status, but also how deeply it ran.

How Sutton had been the one for her, the one that had gotten away. The one she’d never gotten over. How Sutton meant so much to her that she might give up her career in politics.

So, it made sense – today, right now – when Charlotte quietly, introspectively, murmured, “I didn’t really play board games when I was younger. My family wasn’t… that kind of family.”

She didn’t explain in detail, but Autumn didn’t expect her to. It was enough to paint a picture, regardless.

She’d spent over two years now by Charlotte’s side, day in and day out. She might not know the specifics about Charlotte’s relationships with her family, but she knew the big picture. Charlotte was close to Caleb and his partner, Dean. She was on good terms with her other brother, William, and his family, but not close. And she hardly had a relationship at all with her parents.

It wasn’t like Autumn’s relationship with her own family; Charlotte still spoke to hers. But from the conversations Autumn had heard, it was all very… polite. Very proper.

“I’ll be the blue car,” Charlotte said, dragging Autumn from her thoughts.

Snapping back to the moment, she reached into the bag and pulled out the pieces. Blue for Charlotte and she randomly pulled out the yellow for herself. Today wasn’t about her. She set the cars up at the start, along with the two little plastic “people.”

“Is this also a game your mother played with you?” Charlotte asked, curiously, as she picked up the cards that went with the game, studying them.

Autumn froze, feeling her breath stolen by the simple question.

Which was silly, really. Because she’d opened this door; she’d told Charlotte earlier about the card games she’d played with her mom.

The part she hadn’t discussed with Charlotte was how, in adulthood and with a lot of therapy, she’d realized that the reason she’d struggled verbally expressing herself with her mother was because when Autumn was truthful about her feelings regarding many aspects of her life, she was punished. When it was just her and her mom, playing a game, it was easier. Because her mother wasn’t the arbiter of the punishments, first and foremost. But also because her mom had treated her like a peer, long before Autumn should have been spoken to like an adult.

Shaking herself out of that spiral before it could truly become a spiral, she cleared her throat. “Ah, sometimes. Yes. Board games were a very big thing in my house growing up.”

And they were, because she and her siblings had all been very limited regarding what activities they were allowed to partake in. If they were old enough to be granted a cell phone, it was only for emergencies, and they were not to use them when they were in the home or at church – which was most of the time. They turned them in at the door, and the history – internet searches, apps, downloads – were all checked not only on the device itself but also the phone bill.

Playing board games with her younger siblings was one of the things Autumn had done very frequently.

“But not the way we’re going to play,” she asserted, tightly clearing her throat and explaining before Charlotte could ask any other questions. “We’re going to play a couple of times. Every time we play, you’ll be given different career and home options, different family options, retirement, different scenarios.”

Charlotte hummed, contemplatively. “Sounds interesting.”

“It is,” she confirmed, softly.

And more than being “interesting,” – it could be very useful.

Autumn knew this for a fact. Not that this game in any way represented real life, but it helped to springboard different scenarios for the future.

One of her favorite therapists, the one she’d worked with throughout getting her graduate degree at Brown, had introduced this as a thought exercise with Autumn. When she’d felt so… unsure and untethered in her life, wondering where her future was going.

So, why not share the spoils of her experiences in therapy? It seemed like Charlotte could use it.

***

Autumn was, frankly, shocked at how much it seemed that acting as Charlotte’s therapist was useful to her. Well, mostly, she was shocked that she’d been able to be so useful to her.

What really confirmed her shock, though, was the way Charlotte hugged her, after she’d pulled her jacket on, preparing to leave in the late afternoon.

Charlotte had never hugged her before. And, yes, the entirety of their day today had been very different than their usual, but… this was a whole other level. Autumn was so shocked by it, she barely had the presence of mind to hug Charlotte back.

Which she did, tentatively. Lightly.

Just for a couple of seconds, before Charlotte pulled back, clearing her throat. “Thank you, Autumn.”

There was a quiet sincerity in Charlotte’s tone that she’d also never heard before. Which was really odd, because she’d imagined she’d heard all of Charlotte’s specific tones, before – excepting, obviously, ones she might use with Sutton.

But she supposed it also had something to do with the look on Charlotte’s face. An expression she’d never seen before.

Something that was determined – she’d seen that – but… light.

She looked happy.

And Autumn felt so good – so validated and like she had a purpose, a true purpose – at having helped cause it. Not that she’d really done anything, because she knew this lightness to Charlotte had everything to do with Sutton. But she’d helped Charlotte get to this conclusion.

So, she nodded back at her, letting her own smile peek through. “You’re welcome.” She hesitated, only for a second, before she admitted, “I’m really glad you let me be there for you, today. I know… I know that’s not easy.”

God, just as quickly as the words escaped her lips, she pictured Maya in her mind’s eye.

“It’s not,” Charlotte acknowledged with a self-deprecating laugh. “But you’re a good person to have in my corner, and I appreciate you.”

Okay, yes, that was precisely what she needed to hear, and with that, she was back to flying high. Her smile widened, to the point that it almost pained her.

That feeling stayed with her as she left – especially knowing that Charlotte was going to Sutton’s. Charlotte was going to Sutton’s, and she’d made a decision that was going to change the course of her future, to be with the person she loved. And Autumn had helped get her to that point.

She only had the briefest of pauses before putting in Maya’s address when she ordered a car to pick her up.

It would be fine.

Part Ten

“No, I don’t want either of you to come here,” Maya insisted, on the phone with her sisters. “What’s the point? It’s already dinner time, then it would take you a couple hours to get here, and I have work in the morning.”

“You can’t go to work in the morning,” Ruby sounded absolutely aghast.

She frowned, stoking her hand over Tort’s back as he laid on her stomach. “Ummm… where else would I go?”

“She’s going to be there,” Ruby commented, the same ire in her tone that had been present throughout their entire call.

Which Maya both appreciated and didn’t. She sighed, squeezing her eyes closed. “Yes, well, that’s what I get for getting embroiled in a sexual relationship with my coworker, isn’t it?”

And the heavy, solid truth of that landed like a weight inside of her. One that she’d been doing her best to work through for hours.

She had no one to blame for any of the fall out with Autumn except for herself.

“That’s a very mature way to take this,” Gwen encouraged. “I think that’s the right tactic.”

“Yeah,” she sighed out, swallowing thickly. “I think I’m going to go. Just… get mentally ready for tomorrow. Try to sleep early.”

“Good thinking,” Gwen’s tone was that firm warmth, mixed with approval.

“I still think you should call out tomorrow, but what do I know?” Ruby intoned back.

She let out a dry laugh, rubbing her fingers intently over her eyes. “Goodbye. I’ll see you this weekend.”

There was no doubt in her mind that she needed a visit home this weekend, even though she’d only just gotten back from seeing her family.

After they hung up, she reached up behind her head and dropped her phone onto the table next to her couch, where she was laying, splayed on her back.

She’d been here for over an hour now, feeling totally devoid of energy. Which was fucking stupid, because she’d done exactly nothing today, all day.

But feeling emotions was tiring, she supposed.

And she’d been feeling a lot of them.

Because Autumn… had just walked out on her. Without a second look, without any remorse. Without assuring Maya about anything. She’d been gone all day, without so much as a text.

Maya had been through the whole gamut of thoughts and emotions since then.

She’d told herself that this didn’t really mean anything more than typical Autumn. Which, in turn, was fine, because Autumn was… Autumn, and Maya knew that. So, everything was fine, and they could just move on from this like usual.

And by noon, she couldn’t even try to convince herself of that, anymore.

Especially not when Ruby had called her on her lunch break, and told Maya to be fucking for real.

And that was exactly what she needed to do. She needed to be fucking for real with herself.

Because she didn’t like this. She didn’t want to spend a day off from work feeling miserable, crying sporadically throughout the afternoon, because the woman who fucked her like she loved her actually didn’t.

She didn’t want to be this person.

She wasn’t going to be this person, anymore. She sure as hell was going to stop being this person before it devolved into her becoming someone she couldn’t even look at in the mirror and see any self-respect looking back at her.

“So that’s that on that,” she informed Tort, who’d picked up on her emotional state and had been following her around all day. So underfoot that she’d tripped over him no less than three times, but she appreciated it.

Tort loved her, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

Especially not once she’d laid on the couch, and he’d hopped right up to curl into a ball on her stomach.

When she heard the knock on her door, she popped her head up and frowned at it.

For a second, she thought it was Ruby. But there was no way, given that they’d literally just been on the phone, and her sister had left work less than an hour ago.

She dropped her head back down, scratching Tort between the ears as she whispered, “We’re going to let that go to voicemail.”

He looked intently back at her, and she took it as implicit agreement.

The knocking annoyingly continued for another few seconds, before she heard Autumn’s voice. “Maya? Are you home?”

Everything inside of her halted, and she could hear her heart beating in her ears as her pulse quickened at the sound of Autumn’s voice.

Tort looked up at her, doing that thing where her quirked his head to the side. As if he could somehow understand what was going on here.

She took a long, deep breath, and picked him up to gently plop him down on the couch cushion as she sat up. “I don’t know what she’s doing here, bud,” she muttered, giving him a little head scratch.

She only took another second, trying to fortify herself and all of her defenses, before pushing herself up. If she didn’t, Autumn would leave. She knew this, because Autumn was categorically not someone that would insist on being here and talking to Maya, or someone that would wait around for her.

No, that was Maya.

Groaning with the embarrassment of that lovely thought, she scrubbed her hands over her face as she padded over to the door.

She didn’t want Autumn to leave.

Because they were going to have to have this talk sometime soon, and she knew they’d both rather not do it at work.

With another long, deep breath, she opened the door.

And she hated it. She hated that even after this morning, when Autumn couldn’t even stand to be with her for an extra hour or two to go to breakfast together, she felt that flutter in her stomach at the sight of her.

Autumn looked exactly the same as she had this morning when she’d left.

Her long, silky blonde hair was pulled up into a twist, she wore the barest hint of makeup, still in the same business-casual attire she’d put on when they’d been getting ready.

In comparison, Maya had languished in a warm bath for over an hour after Autumn had left, questioning all of her life choices. Then she’d summoned the strength to get up and put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, which she was still in, now.

It was almost funny, if she thought about it. Autumn was perfectly, pristinely put together, in spite of their conversation this morning. And Maya was a mess over it.

If made her stomach twist into knots. If she’d had anything to eat today, she’d probably feel nauseas.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice sounding a little hoarse, but mostly confused.

Because she was confused. She was fucking baffled at what Autumn was doing on her doorstep.

Autumn’s big, beautiful, bright blue eyes locked onto hers, and there was an energy in them that made this whole situation even more confounding. “I had such an unbelievable day, Maya,” she informed her, before she expectantly arched her eyebrows up. “Can I come in? Tort looks like he might make a run for it.”

He wouldn’t, but Maya wasn’t going to argue that right now.

Instead, she wordlessly stepped aside – giving Autumn more than enough room to walk by her without the slightest contact. Not something she normally did, because she usually enjoyed when she felt Autumn brush against her. It always gave her that shock of butterflies.

Autumn walked in, tangling her fingers together in front of her, before she spun to face Maya again.

She slowly shut the door, studying Autumn. Trying to understand what, exactly, was going on in her mind.

Like, did they not both experience the same morning together? Had they had different conversations? Had Maya had a true mental breakdown or something?

And under all of that, was this insistent feeling inside of her. One that was trying so hard to bubble up, excited and hopeful.

Because their last interaction this morning had been so shitty, so… if Autumn was here, unannounced, seemingly happy, at her home, then – then maybe it was something good?

Maya didn’t walk closer to her, though. She couldn’t let herself be sucked in by Autumn’s excitement and verve, not until she knew whatever the hell was going on.

“So? What was your “unbelievable” day?” She asked, curiously.

And, yes, damningly… hopefully.

What she wouldn’t give for Autumn’s “unbelievable” day to be something – anything – along the lines of realizing that she did have real feelings for Maya, and she wanted to work on figuring that out.

“Well, first of all, Charlotte was in crisis,” Autumn started, giving her a firm nod. As if to say so, there.

And everything inside of Maya started to fall flat. That bubble of hope that had begun to inflate was sharply popped, and her heart sank.

It had never been clearer to her that she and Autumn weren’t only not on the same page, but were perhaps in entirely different novels, than it was at this moment. Because Autumn looked downright giddy.

More exhilarated than Maya typically ever saw her – ever saw her, if they were taking sex out of the equation – and the worst part of it all? Was that a part of Maya loved to see this.

There was this piece of her that adored seeing Autumn be so full of life. To see that spark in those typically so-serious eyes.

“What was she in crisis about, you might ask?” Autumn continued. “Well – I mean, Maya… the conversations I had with her today–”

Maya could not fucking believe it.

Actually, she could. And that made everything even worse.

“Are you serious right now?” She cut in, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Feeling so abnormally guarded, in a way she never felt with Autumn.

Some of the wind was taken from her sails, and she frowned at Maya. “What do you mean?”

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to tamp down on the maelstrom of emotions whipping through her. Trying her best to keep her voice low and even, as she stated, “I don’t care.”

When she opened her eyes again, Autumn was staring back at her with narrowed eyes. “You – you, what?”

“I don’t care about whatever happened with Charlotte today,” she repeated, flatly. “I don’t care about the conversations you had with her after you left this morning. I don’t care about what was going on with our boss, because I had the day off. So, I’ll care tomorrow.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, as Autumn rolled her lips tightly. As she stared at Maya like Maya, for once, was the ticking timebomb out of the two of them.

“I’m… sorry… about the way things played out this morning,” Autumn said, her voice so quiet Maya had to strain to hear her. She got a little bit louder, back to normal volume, as the desperation worked back into her tone, “But – I was right to go there. If you’d just let me tell you about it, I think… I think we could get back to a good place. Back to normal.”

Yes, there was a desperation that clawed into her words, as she searched Maya’s gaze with her own. Clearly waiting for Maya to be willing to acquiesce, to hear her out.

Because, in the past, she always would.

Right now, she had none of that energy to give. Her emotional well was spent. And while there was still so much she felt for Autumn, she couldn’t dip into it, anymore. It was contaminated, now.

“I don’t care to hear about Charlotte tonight,” she repeated, and fuck, it hurt.

It hurt to see the way Autumn’s expression seemed so hopeful, just willing Maya to give in to their typical dynamic.

It hurt because a big part of her really wanted to.

But it hurt even more that Autumn thought she could come back to her tonight and act like what happened this morning meant nothing.

Apparently, to her, it had. Because she’d spent all day wrapped up with Charlotte.

Maybe that hurt most of all. Because Maya had spent all day torn up about it. Torn up about feeling like she meant nothing to Autumn.

“So, if that’s all you came here to talk about…?” She trailed off, roughly clearing her throat as she tilted her head at the door behind her. Wordlessly telling Autumn where she could go.

Autumn blinked back at her, seemingly unable to make sense of what Maya was saying. “But – discussing Charlotte’s life is one of our favorite conversation topics. You love gossiping about her.” There was a baffled accusation in her tone, like she couldn’t understand why Maya wasn’t willing to give in, but clearly, she didn’t like it.

She tightened her arms around herself. Holding herself together. “Yes, I do,” she agreed, evenly. “I enjoy chatting about our boss and trying to figure out the clues of her personal life, sure. But…” she had to pause, to break, as she tried to grab onto the courage she’d forged after having the worst fucking day. “But a big reason that I loved it was because for a very, very long time, Charlotte was the only topic you would discuss with me.”

Autumn obviously hadn’t expected that, and she snapped her jaw closed, narrowing her eyes.

“So, if that’s all you came here for, then… you should probably go. I don’t really feel like having sex tonight.”

Autumn took a step back, as if Maya’s words had physically wounded her.

And she winced after they’d left her mouth because no, it didn’t fucking feel good to say them. But it felt even worse knowing that was the only reason Autumn would ever give as to why she was spending the night.

There was a deep frown etched into Autumn’s face, and her breath trembled out as she said, “Maya…” She broke off, needing to clear her throat. Rolling her shoulders back, clearly getting a hold over herself. “I shouldn’t have left this morning. Not the way I did. And I – I’m sorry. That I hurt you. I can work on the breakfast thing,” she offered.

“Wow, that’s really big of you.” The words slipped out from that hurt, aching part of her, and she cut herself off, because saying them – seeing the way Autumn’s eyes widened in response – cut even deeper.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, dropping her head into her hands, rubbing at her tired, gritty eyes. “That was a shitty thing to say, and I don’t want to be shitty to you.”

Which, in truth, was the root of it all. Maya didn’t want this, she didn’t want her and Autumn to devolve any further.

But she didn’t want her self-esteem and self-worth to degrade, either.

Autumn shook her head. “It’s… it’s all right. I understand.”

And she gave Maya a small, understanding, tremulous smile.

One that was achingly beautiful, especially because Maya could see how much it took out of Autumn. She could see it. That Autumn knew what was coming, and that she was trying to pull the brakes before it happened.

And everything inside of her ached even more at that.

It fucking ached because if Autumn could have said this twelve hours ago, maybe she could make it be enough.

But even if she had, it would have been a band-aid on a bullet hole; Maya would just let herself bleed out for a little bit longer.

She had to pull off the band-aid.

“I can’t do this, anymore.” The words nearly stayed stuck in her throat, nearly made her choke.

Because she didn’t want to be saying them. She didn’t want this. She’d spent two years falling for Autumn, for fuck’s sake. This was the last thing she wanted.

“Maybe the thing you look forward to the most at work every day is getting to work with Charlotte, and that’s… that’s fine,” again, she nearly choked. Because it didn’t feel fine. But it was the truth. “But what I look forward to the most, is you,” she confessed, point-blank.

Because it was time.

It was probably past the right time, but at least Maya had gotten here, now. It… was time.

Autumn’s eyes, predictably, widened, as her jaw snapped tightly shut.

Ah, right. The horror at Maya verbally expressing feelings for her. Also expected, but still painful. Like, really, really painful. Because the way Autumn looked at her made Maya feel like she was doing something horribly wrong. Immoral.

When, in reality, her feelings for Autumn were maybe the purest emotion she’d ever experienced.

“I want you, Autumn. I want the sexy parts and the good parts, and the bad parts that you don’t talk about,” her heart thundered in her chest, as the words escaped her. The words that she’d had to bite back and hold down for months, now. “I know you have some kind of trauma, I know you don’t want to share your past with me, and I’m not asking you to tell me about it right now. But… I am asking to know about it someday.”

There. She dropped her arms down, unguarded. Laying everything she had out for Autumn, right between them. Laying herself out.

“What I’m asking for is… is for you to tell me that you and I are on the same wavelength. That you know what we have isn’t just sex. That you know we have something here,” she gestured between them. “You know that we have something good and worthwhile. Tell me that you also feel like we’ve been building something between us, something that you want to last.”

Her blood thrummed through her, and that little bubble of hope had returned. Especially when Autumn hadn’t stormed past her to leave, hadn’t firmly, assertively cut her off.

Maybe… maybe.

“We’re in a relationship, Autumn, even if that’s not what we call it.”

“No… that’s not…” Autumn trailed off, the vehemence in her voice undeniable. And it should have been laughable. Maya wished it was. She wished she could find the humor in it, and maybe – some day – she would.

But not today.

Today, she only laughed in a way that both felt and sounded as hollow as she was starting to feel inside. There was no warm, affectionate humor in her laughter at all; she laughed out of sheer bafflement.

“Autumn. All of your preferred toiletries are kept at my apartment. We spend at least three nights a week together. We’re exclusively sleeping together. When we’re apart, we miss each other. That’s a fucking relationship!”

She reached up, dragging her hands through her hair, and she wondered if she was going crazy. She felt like she was going a little crazy.

Autumn looked like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to verbally lash out at Maya or if she was going to flee the scene, as she looked so tense, the color high in her cheeks, her breathing coming faster.

“I’ve been making myself be okay with not labelling what we’re doing, because I don’t want to scare you. I’ve been trying so hard to respect every boundary you have, that,” she swallowed, hard, the desperation scratching at the back of her throat, painfully. “Somewhere along the line in the last month or two, I’ve started to push aside my own boundaries.”

Autumn’s eyebrows furrowed together tightly as she searched Maya’s expression, her mouth falling open in silent question.

“I bite back the questions I want to ask you, even though you can ask me anything you want. I worry about saying the wrong thing, so I walk on eggshells because I’m so… so fucking into you that I’m terrified of accidentally blowing this whole thing up.”

Because that had been exactly what Maya had done for the first year and a half of knowing Autumn. Even in the first month of them doing this.

She dropped her hands heavily down to her sides, feeling sick to her stomach.

“And that’s not me. That’s not who I am.”

“I never asked you to do those things,” Autumn asserted, her voice quiet, but – as always – loud enough to be heard. Firm and defensive.

“I know,” she agreed, pushing out a sad, embarrassed laugh.

Because it wasn’t Autumn’s fault at all.

It was all Maya.

And it was pathetic. She felt pathetic. But, to Autumn’s point, that wasn’t Autumn’s fault, and Maya had spent a long portion of her day thinking about that. About all of this.

“I don’t blame you for it.” She lifted her hand, pressing her index finger against her own chest. “I made those choices. But I made them because I have big, real, serious feelings for you. And… and I can be this person, Autumn,” she pledged.

Pledged, promised, swore. Her heart thudded solidly in her chest with how much she meant it.

“I can be the person by your side, who doesn’t push until you’re ready. I can be the person who supports you and will be there for you and cares more about prioritizing your comfort than my own a lot of the time. And…” Her breathing was shaky, the nerves inside of her tangling uncomfortably together, as she admitted, “Even if it’s fucking stupid of me, I want to be that person.”

Because she believed, with everything she was, that Autumn was worth it.

“But I need you to tell me that you have the same feelings for me. That we are in a relationship. I need you to acknowledge that we’re building something together. That… that the emotional energy that I give to you and to us is because I want to invest in a future, here. Our future. One that involves you working on sharing yourself with me, too.”

She was pleading. She could hear it in her own, reedy, tremulous voice, as much as she felt it, inside.

She wanted to be an endless well to Autumn. She wanted to be by her side.

But she couldn’t go down this road anymore if Autumn couldn’t even admit what they were to each other. Couldn’t admit that she wanted Maya by her side, too.

“And if you don’t feel that way for me, or if you can’t admit that you do, then–”

“Maya,” Autumn cut in, in a voice that was barely over a whisper. Sounding breathless, almost. Maybe slightly strangled, even. “I… can’t–”

It was so damning. So… fucking… damning, and those simple words slammed into Maya like a freight train.

Autumn rolled her shoulders back, vibrating with tension. “I never promised anything. I didn’t… you knew… what this was.”

What this was. God, that dug right into her chest.

She nodded slowly, those words sinking in. Sinking right through her.

“I know,” she breathed out, feeling strangled, herself. “I know, which is why I’m not mad at you. I can’t be mad at you for not giving me something you’ve never told me you could give.”

At the very least, she’d always known where Autumn had stood. She was absolutely correct; she’d never made any promises to Maya, never verbally expressed anything. In fact, she’d always done the opposite.

It made this both easier and harder, in completely fucked ways.

“So, I have to end whatever this is.” She gestured between them. “Right now. While I can still look at you, and talk to you, and not resent you. Because I don’t want to ever get to a place where I resent you, Autumn.”

And the truth of that echoed through her with a sense of finality.

Under it all, she did care about Autumn. So, so much. Not just as a lover, not just as a colleague, not just as a friend. She cared about her as a human being. As a whole person.

And the idea of dragging this out – the prospect of going through more conversations like they’d had this morning – made Maya feel weighted with dread. She couldn’t do that. Not only for her own emotional wellbeing, but because she didn’t ever want to hate Autumn.

She never wanted to look at that beautiful face, with those big, imploring blue eyes, and perfectly full lips and feel anger.

And this was the final stop on the train. She could feel it in her bones; this was the final station before things would truly devolve between them.

“I… I don’t want that either,” Autumn said, hoarsely.

There was so much in her voice, so much emotion in her words, and… she would never express any of it to Maya.

She reached up and rubbed intently at her eyes before any of the tears that stung at the back of them could spill over. “We agreed in the beginning that this wouldn’t interfere with work. And the reality is, if we continue on this rollercoaster together any longer, I won’t be able to work with you. So… it’s time for me to get off the ride.”

Autumn nodded, before she cut off the motion and simply stood there. Ramrod straight, not making eye contact with Maya for several long moments. “Okay. Then.” She had to clear her throat, roughly. “Then I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she breathed back. “I’ll see you then.”

Without another word, Autumn brushed past her, beelining for the door, before shutting it sharply behind her.

***

Maya hadn’t ever dreaded going to work before.

But she did today.

Her stomach tied in anticipatory knots as she walked into her shared office space with Autumn. Unsurprisingly, Autumn was already there.

Would Autumn be giving her the silent treatment? … did Maya want her to?

Maybe. Maybe it would make things easier.

But also no, she didn’t want it.

Because – first and foremost – she hadn’t done anything wrong. She didn’t deserve the silent treatment. Autumn Alton was all about boundaries, and Maya shouldn’t ever feel penalized for enforcing her own.

And secondly, because… well, because she didn’t want to be iced out from Autumn.

Cutting “what they were doing” off at the knees was the right thing to do so that they wouldn’t have to ice one another out. The whole point of having that conversation was so they could still be relatively normal going forward.

… she just desperately hoped Autumn felt the same way. Because, otherwise, Maya wasn’t sure how they were going to manage it.

She came to a stumbling stop when she saw the coffee cup on her desk, her heart pounding a little harder at the simple sight.

“Um… what’s that?” She asked, slowly turning to give Autumn a look.

And Autumn – god, she looked so perfect.

She definitely didn’t look like she’d been up all night, barely able to sleep. Wondering if she’d made the right choice in ending their sexual relationship.

Ruby had texted her, asserting that, You are doing the right thing, Maya. This is the smartest thing.

So, she’d held onto that. Especially when she’d had the useless, inane thoughts that started to creep in when she’d smelled Autumn’s shampoo on her pillow from the night before. The thoughts that said… maybe Autumn just needed some more time. Maybe Autumn couldn’t voice what they were, but they were doing it, anyway. Wasn’t that enough?

The stupid, silly little voice, that was borne of Maya missing Autumn, desperately.

She’d only just returned from her holiday staycation with her family, only just had a single night back with Autumn. And now… done.

Ugh.

Yeah, a maximum strength large coffee was exactly what she needed to get through the next few hours, after the fitful bits of sleep she’d managed to grab.

“It’s a coffee. Your usual,” Autumn answered, primly. She didn’t take her eyes off of her computer, as she continued typing.

Maya blinked at her, owlishly.

For long enough that Autumn huffed out a breath, and looked away from her computer, arching her a look. “I figured it could serve as a gesture of good faith. As we continue working together. After…” She trailed off, before tightly rolling her lips.

Like she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – state aloud that they’d had a sexual relationship.

Even though they’d literally fucked in this very office.

God.

The memory of Autumn fucking her – and then Maya returning the favor – right there in their closet, swept through Maya. Stealing her breath.

That had been the last time they’d been in here. The last time they’d been at the office, Maya had given Autumn a necklace. And they’d had sex.

“Thanks,” she murmured, shaking her head slightly as she turned toward her own desk. “Normal,” she couldn’t help but state under her breath.

She let out a scoffing laugh with it, a little incredulous.

Normal – as in, prior to the last four months – did not include Autumn buying her a coffee. So, she supposed, Autumn wasn’t feeling as certain and put-together as she appeared.

And… even though she shouldn’t, she found herself glimpsing across the room as she settled in at her desk.

Autumn’s hair was half-up, half-down. She wore a blue button up, with the sleeves crisply rolled up to her elbows. And –

Maya inhaled sharply, choking on the sip of coffee she’d just taken.

Which, of course, drew Autumn’s attention, immediately. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she spluttered out, waving Autumn’s attention away.

Autumn nodded back at her – once, firmly – before turning back to her computer.

But… she was wearing the necklace Maya had given her for Christmas. She was wearing the fucking necklace Maya had given her.

What – why…?!

Of course she’d noticed that Autumn had worn it when she’d come to her apartment two nights ago. The realization that Autumn had clearly been wearing the necklace regularly – given that she’d drawn no special attention to the fact that she was wearing it – had made this warm, heady glow settle inside of Maya.

Two nights ago, anyway. Two nights ago, knowing that the gift she’d picked out for Autumn would now have residence around her neck, filled Maya with giddiness.

Now, it filled her with a messy mass of emotions that she didn’t know how to pick apart. Confusion, heartache, and… the most confounding part of it all – still, a happiness inside of her.

Maybe not quite “happiness” but – Autumn had been so surprised when Maya had gifted it to her. She’d clearly not expected to receive a gift, not from anyone. She’d clearly been thrown when Maya had stated that she noticed that Autumn always reached for a necklace that she no longer wore.

No matter what their status was, she wasn’t going to regret being that person for Autumn. Being someone who saw her. Who’d made her feel cared for.

Again, that was the whole reason why they needed to stop sleeping together. So that Maya didn’t end up regretting that.

Autumn cleared her throat. “When you log into your email, you’ll see that there’s been a big schedule shift today. Charlotte won’t actually be in office today, after all.”

Maya nodded, diverting her attention to her email on her own computer. “Yes, I saw that Hamish is bringing her right to her breakfast meeting.”

“Yes, but she’s not returning to the office afterwards. I’ll be joining her, after the breakfast meeting. So… I’ll be leaving soon.” Autumn’s words were halting.

And Maya felt entirely too relieved by it. “Sounds good.”

Autumn being out of office – Autumn and Charlotte – being out of the office today? Maya couldn’t think of a better day for herself.

In the past, it would have been one of her least favorite days. But… today, not having Autumn here as an attack on her senses was for the best.

***

She stayed heads-down, buried in work, as soon as Autumn left.

After the winter recess, there was a shit ton to do, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Charlotte had taken the day off yesterday.

If Charlotte hadn’t taken the day off yesterday, she and Autumn wouldn’t have completely fallen apart. So, there was also that.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, or whatever. It shined the light on something Maya had been determined not to face.

Either way, by the time the late afternoon rolled around, Maya had never been so productive at work. Pushing aside any of the messiness inside of her, having the office to herself.

It was a great reminder to Maya how much she was actually capable of, frankly. Working for Charlotte was time-consuming, but… her job wasn’t necessarily a challenge, mentally.

She reached back, rubbing at a knot in her neck after having been hunched over her desk for a couple of hours, when the phone on her desk rang.

Interestingly, the little flashing light indicated that it was coming from the security desk downstairs.

“Senator Thompson’s office, Maya speaking.”

“Hey, Maya. It’s Cliff, down in the lobby.”

She leaned back in her chair, curiosity sliding through her. “Yes, Cliff, I know who you are.”

He was one of a handful of security guards that she chatted to every day, both on her way in and out of the building. She’d given him a holiday card.

“What’s going on?”

“There are two girls down here, saying they need to get in contact with Senator Thompson’s office.”

She scoffed out an incredulous laugh. “Well, Senator Thompson doesn’t exactly take walk-ins.”

And Cliff knew that… so… consider her interest piqued.

“I know, of course.” He hesitated, before lowering his voice. “They were here yesterday, too. Saying the same thing, about needing to get into contact with Senator Thompson’s office.”

Maya frowned in confusion. “If they have any business with Senator Thompson, they should know how to request a meeting with her,” she pointed out.

Everyone that worked in the building – especially those who worked in security – knew all of the protocols about people showing up, trying to demand access to a politician in the building. If people showed up multiple times, without a meeting on the books, acting suspiciously… there was protocol.

A fairly simple protocol, that involved calling the police.

“That’s the thing, Maya,” he continued, his tone still a little hushed. “These girls, they’re – they’re girls. They aren’t two young, adult women; they’re kids. Teenagers, I think.”

“Teenagers?” She echoed, baffled. “Why are they trying to contact Charlotte?”

“I’m not sure. And I know there’s protocol in place for this, but… it doesn’t feel right. Calling the police on two kids? I figured, since they showed up again, I’d run it up to you. They’ve passed through all the safety checks, and we have them sitting down in the security office in the lobby. If you want me to handle it–”

“No,” she cut him off, already standing from her desk. “That’s fine, I’m on my way down. I’ll see what they want.”

She supposed she was glad, at the very least, for another distraction from her thoughts. Work had served her well, allowing her not to dive into thoughts about Autumn – yearning, sexual, exasperated, or otherwise – and now that the work day was dwindling to an end, there was a new situation on the horizon.

When she reached the lobby, she nodded at Cliff, who waved at her and pointed toward the door on the right.

Using her badge to get in, she found herself face-to-face with the two girls.

And Cliff’s assessment appeared to be extremely accurate, only he’d left out the part about the fact that they were clearly twins.

Definitely teenagers; if they were a day over seventeen – tops – Maya could be knocked down by a feather.

They were sitting, huddled close together on the hard, plastic seats in the security detaining room. Both had backpacks sitting at their feet that had clearly been picked through by security, looking as though they’d been hastily thrown back together.

One of the girls had her hair done in a long fishtail braid, pulled over her right shoulder. The other had hers up in a tight ponytail.

And they both blinked up at her with wide, blue eyes, both quickly standing up as soon as she entered the room.

 The one on the left, Ponytail Twin, seemed very cautious, maybe even scared of Maya. The one on the right, Brain Twin, also seemed cautious, but tilted her chin up at her with a look of… almost defiance? As if she wanted to prove a point, as if she wanted to tell Maya I’m not afraid, even though she clearly was.

Then there was the matter of their clothing.

Ponytail wore a long khaki shirt, that went down past the knee, while Braid wore a long-sleeved dress that also went right down to her ankles. And there was something that seemed so deliberate about it, quiet alarm bells sounded in the back of Maya’s mind.

She fixed a small, comforting smile on her face. “I heard you two were looking to get in contact with Senator Thompson’s office?”

The girls exchanged a look, before Braid turned to face her head-on. “Yes, we are. But… you’re not Senator Thompson.”

Even though she asserted that comment, she didn’t sound super confident in it. Like she was pretty sure Maya wasn’t Charlotte, but wasn’t absolutely positive.

Maya chuckled, softly. “No, I’m not,” she confirmed. “I’m Maya Lindsay, Senator Thompson’s assistant. Can I help you?”

They exchanged another look, this time seeming more urgent. They didn’t say anything out loud, but they didn’t have to, because clearly something was being communicated in only their looks to one another.

Finally, they looked back at her, and both seemed incredibly uncertain.

And, as she took a closer look, they both looked… so tired.

“Um. No. Thank you for coming down,” Braid said, nodding slightly at her.

Even more baffled now, Maya leaned against the doorframe, and hoped that her casual demeanor would help put them more at ease. “I heard from Cliff – the security guard – that you’d come here yesterday, too…?”

Neither of them seemed to know what to do with that, and for the first time, Ponytail spoke, “We’re sorry. We really don’t want to get into trouble.”

The underlying fear in her tone reached in and gripped tightly at Maya. Who the hell were these girls? What were they doing here?

“You’re not going to get into trouble,” she assured them. “What are your names, for starters?”

They exchanged another glance, like they weren’t sure if they should divulge that to her.

Finally, Braid cautiously answered, “I’m Honor. This is Haven.”

Maya had to work to school her features, making sure she continued to only give them a comforting and accepting exterior. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Before they said anything else, one of their – or… both of their? – stomachs let out a sound, clearly hungry.

Yeah, she was going to need some answers, here. She couldn’t just let them go. Where would they go? Two young girls – named Honor and Haven – who looked like they’d just left Amish country for rumspringa, exhausted and hungry, asking to meet with a senator?

Something was very wrong here.

“Why don’t you come with me – not far,” she quickly added, reassuring. “In the building, there’s a café. We can grab something to eat, and you can tell me why you want to meet with Senator Thompson. Okay?”

And it could give Maya some time to figure out what to do with them.

The girls exchanged another look, before nodding at her, hesitantly. They bent down to grab their bags, sliding the straps over their shoulders.

Maya gestured for them to go ahead of her, so she could shut the secure door behind her on an empty room.

They did, but only took a single step outside, so when Maya went to follow, she walked right into them.

She quickly stepped back, patting them both gently on their shoulders in apology. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be standing so close.”

“Mr. Duckworth told us not to go anywhere else without an escort,” Haven said to her, obediently, as she gestured to Cliff.

“Well, I’m your escort,” she informed them. “Come on, it’s this way.”

As she walked, even though they’d all started out at the same place and on even footing, she noted that the girls fell in line behind her. Not straying more than a foot away, but not walking at her side, either.

“We’re fine, though. You don’t have to do anything for us,” Honor said, even though her voice wobbled slightly at the insistence that they were “fine.”

“I don’t have to,” she acknowledged. “But I don’t feel right letting you walk out of here without helping you out.” She eyed them over her shoulder. “Have you two ever been in a major city, alone, before? How old are you?”

The way their sheer innocence radiated from them… yeah, there was no way.

They seemed hesitant to answer, before Haven gave a slight shake of her head. “No. We haven’t.”

Honor tilted her jaw up at her. “Almost sixteen.”

Maya accepted the answers with a nod, even though all it did was leave her with more questions. Two fifteen year olds, who’d never been alone in a major city… and had wound up in D.C., at the senate building. “And… are you from the D.C. area? Do you have somewhere to go when you leave here?”

“We aren’t homeless,” Honor said, reeling back in wide-eyed shock at the implication.

Haven nudged at her, and they locked eyes, seeming to huddle in closer together. And Honor deflated slightly, picking at her fingernails. “I mean. I guess. I don’t really know…” She shook her head, her bottom lip poking into a pout that made her look even younger, cutting herself off.

“The term that’s colloquially used currently is unhoused, for the record,” she said, keeping her tone light, as they continued down the hall. “I’ll let you know a little secret – if your goal is to get on Senator Thompson’s schedule, you’ve actually found yourself with the right person.”

She watched carefully for their reaction to that, because they should be thrilled about it. Two teenagers of murky background, who wanted to see a senator, and had found Maya? Who managed Charlotte’s schedule?

Only, both of them bit their chapped lips. Clearly, their first reaction wasn’t happiness or feeling like they’d succeeded in whatever their mission was, here.

And that caused Maya to pause her already slowed pace. Instead of continuing toward the café, she turned to face them.

Haven nudged Honor’s shoulder. Honor nudged her back, before looking up at Maya, vulnerability etched into both of their expressions, more visibly than before.

“We… we aren’t looking for Senator Thompson, actually.”

And the mystery just got even more mysterious.

Maya looked between them, baffled. “Then why are you here, and saying that to security?”

“We said we needed to get in contact with Senator Thompson’s office,” Honor clarified. “Because we do.”

“Okay…?” It was still not clicking for her. “Who, exactly, are you looking for?”

“A woman named Autumn Alton. We – we thought she worked for Senator Thompson. Do you know her?” Honor asked, her eyes wide and luminous. Hopeful.

Maya looked between the girls again, the sound of Autumn’s name echoing in her mind. And the realization started creeping in, even before she hesitantly said, “I can’t offer information about other employees here–”

“Please. She’s our sister, and we really need to talk to her,” Haven cut in, a desperation cutting into her voice, as she echoed, “Do you know her?”

Maya ran her eyes over both of the girls again, noting their wardrobe. Thought about their mannerisms. And she and no trouble reconciling it with Autumn, even as it made everything inside of her twist tightly together with the hint of understanding and sadness weighing on her.

“Yes, I know her. I can reach her for you.”

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