lovesong

Chapter 1

You have learned to live a life without Jennie.

But Jennie has always had this damned ability to make you forget everything you've ever learned, so when she shows up on your doorstep with her daughter at seven in the morning and her luggage beside her feet, you fumble. There's this shy smile on her face like she didn't really expect to be here either, a shine in her eyes that tells you that she missed you, a tremor in her hands like she's barely stopping herself from hugging you. It feels oh-so-familiar, and you haven't even let her in yet, but there's a part of you that basks in her sudden company.

You hate that.

"I need coffee for this," you deadpan because Jennie has thrown your morning routine and your heart off-course, and you're not entirely sure whether to take it as a pleasant surprise or a triggering event. You know the latter was never an option (your therapist would be so disappointed), but that doesn't stop you from at least trying to remember what you've learned.

Jennie lets out a timid laugh, and the sound scrapes against your supposedly brand new heart. "Rude. How about a deal? If you let us in, I'll make your coffee just the way you like it."

You want to tell her that she shouldn't know how you take your coffee, that things change, that you've changed, but the soft spot you have for her rebels against the idea so you put on your best smile instead. It feels painful because it is. You feel unbalanced and unsettled, like your heart's trying to remember how to stand up for itself after a long time of laying down for Jennie to step on it. It fails spectacularly, and you sigh around your brittle smile, accepting that this is how today will go.

"Deal," you say as lightly as you can. "Not like I can send you back to Paris anyway."

Jennie rolls her eyes as she helps you drag their luggage into your home. "Like you could do that."

You want to retort that maybe you could do exactly that because you have learned a little bit about self-preservation, but then little Leia blinks tiredly up at you. It makes your heart seize because the universe was playing a sick joke when this three-year-old was born with your eyes even though you were nowhere near a part of this little miracle. Leia opens her arms to you, and you think that if nothing else, this surprise visit gave you her special brand of hugs. She wraps her arms around your neck as soon as you scoop her up, dropping a wet kiss on your cheek like this is what she does every morning.

You decide that today, you'll let yourself want to be theirs.

Your therapist is going to kill you for it, but she did say that it's important to feel and process emotions. Hopefully, she'll be proud of your ability to remind yourself of the coping mechanisms she's tried to get you to learn.

"Hello, darling girl. It's a little too early for your mother to get you on a plane huh?" You talk to the child in your arms, voice soft and adoring, your body automatically adjusts to her weight, your muscles remembering what it feels like to hold this sweetheart.

Leia buries her face into your neck at the sound of your voice, and it makes the last of your shock give way to fondness.

"She misses you," Jennie says as she closes and locks your front door like she lives here. "If you ask her, she'll tell you that I should've brought her here sooner."

You don't look at her, but you let a small smile escape your lips. "And whose fault is it that I haven't seen you in a year? What do you think, love?" Leia giggles sleepily into your neck, oblivious to the grudge hidden behind your words, and you tighten your arms around her, not wanting to let her go just yet.

"Been a good year without you being annoying," Jennie retorts. Something about the way she says it makes you look up at her, and you find her with her arms around herself despite the taunting of her raised eyebrow.