Begin Again | ongoing

thirty-seven

When Viv gets to Astrid and Celeste's house, she is pink-cheeked and short of breath after racing over as quickly as she could once her shift came to an end. She bursts into the house the moment the door is opened to her, racing to the conservatory.

"Sunny," she says, the name coming out as barely more than a breath. Sunny looks up into those deep, dark eyes, her body unfolding itself from the ball she has been curled into on the sofa; she allows herself to be gathered into Viv's strong arms and she breathes in the scent of Viv's conditioner, rests her cheek on the rough polyester of Viv's work polo.

"What's wrong?" Viv asks when they pull apart. "You look upset. What's happened?" Her eyes dart to Astrid, to Celeste. "What's going on? Sunny, why did I get a call from Fen saying that you were high and she's worried about you?"

"I told her not to call you," Sunny says. Damn it, Fenfen, she thinks, though she can't be mad. She gave Fenfen several good reasons to be concerned.

"What was she talking about? Are you high?" Viv steps back, her hands on Sunny's elbows, searching her face for the signs.

"No! I just ... I told her the truth about what happened with the well and the black hole and the time skip and everything and you know Fen, she assumed I was tripping."

"Why did you tell her?" Viv asks. Her voice is a lullaby. Sunny could listen to it forever. She wants to rest her head on Viv's chest, to be told a story, to lose herself in her girlfriend's soft vowels and forget everything else.

"I went back to tell her that I'm moving out," Sunny says, "and I had a bit of a breakdown, and it all came out."

She's feeling better now. The second cup of tea helped; so did sharing with Astrid and Celeste. Sunny is a firm believer in the idea that a problem shared is a problem halved, the uncomfortable fizz in her chest dissipating with each fraction of her worry that she gives away.

"You had a breakdown? About moving in with me?" Viv rolls her lips together. Her fingers slide around Sunny's arm. "Sunny, I told you, if it's too fast we don't have to. Please, bambi, there's no pressure."

"It's not too fast. I love you, Viv. I can't wait to live with you," Sunny says. She takes both of Viv's hands and holds on tight. "There's something I need to tell you, though."

I can do this, she thinks. She's doing alright so far. She can tell Viv what she learnt today and it will be okay. But then she opens her mouth to let it all out, to explain the afternoon she spent in the library, and nothing will come out. Her throat constricts. Her words die before they ever reach her tongue. Viv frowns, waiting for something, anything, but Sunny is frozen.

Celeste steps in. Cool, calm, collected Celeste. "Sunny isn't the first person we've known to end up in this situation," she says, folding her hands in her lap as she takes a seat opposite Sunny and Viv. "There have been others, two of whom sought us out, like Sunny did, when they made the connection."

"There are others?" Viv looks from Sunny to Celeste and back again. "You never mentioned that, Sunny. Why didn't you say?"

"Vivian." Celeste's voice, although barely more than a hush, commands attention. Only when everybody's eyes are on her does she continue. "One of the women who sought us out had made a wish, similar to the one Sunny made. She wanted family and happiness. I know to you it may not seem like it, but Sunny is lucky to have only lost the year that she lost."

Fourteen months, actually, Sunny thinks, but she says nothing. She's not sure she's capable of words, and she would much rather Celeste be the one to tell the story. The way she speaks, the way she holds herself, there's a confidence there, a self-assurance that Sunny doesn't possess, something she can't possibly embody right now.