All That Could Be Lost

Statement Twenty

Kamala laid on her side, one arm tucked under the pillow, body unmoving.

Everything hurt.

Her hips. Her thighs. Her lower back. She shifted slightly and immediately regretted it, wincing, biting her lip to stifle a sound.

Kerry was awake too, on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The sheet was tangled at her waist, a dark bruise just peeking from under the line of her ribs. Her wrists throbbed.

Neither of them spoke.

The silence was too heavy. The kind that pressed into your ribs and refused to let go.

Finally, Kerry turned her head. Her voice was quiet, but flat, "I didn’t appreciate being handled like that.”

Kamala didn’t turn.

“I get it,” Kerry continued, “You’re grieving. You’re trying to hold onto something. But that doesn’t mean I should be treated like a… sex object.”

Kamala closed her eyes, "I’m sorry,” she said softly. “You’re right.”

Kerry swallowed. She almost let it end there.

But Kamala rolled onto her back, slowly, carefully, and looked up at the ceiling too.

“You say that,” Kamala murmured, “but you fucked me just as hard. Harder, honestly.”

Kerry stiffened, "I did,” she said. “But only because you pushed me there.”

Kamala’s brow furrowed. “So that’s an excuse?”

Kerry exhaled, the words hitting her. “No. It’s not. I should’ve stopped. I did stop when I saw you weren’t okay.”

Kamala glanced at her. “That doesn’t make it better.”

“No,” Kerry said. “It doesn’t. I’m sorry.”

Kamala nodded.

“I’ll check in more,” Kerry added. “Next time. If there is a next time like that.”

Kamala turned toward her. Her voice was quiet. “I won’t act like that again. That wasn’t me. Not really. I don’t like the idea of hurting you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Kerry said quickly. Then paused. “But it could’ve gone a lot worse. For both of us.”

Kamala offered a weak smile. “We’re suffering from success.”

Kerry raised an eyebrow.

Kamala chuckled, then winced again. “Most couples fight about a lack of sex. We fight about being too passionate during it.”

Kerry couldn’t help the laugh that broke out of her, tired, relieved, genuine.

And then she sat up slightly, leaned over, and wrapped her arms around Kamala’s aching, stiff body, careful not to press too hard.

“Oh,” Kerry said softly. “So we’re a couple?”

Her lips parted. “Do you want us to be?”

Kerry looked down at her. “Yeah. I do.”

Kamala smiled, shy and small, but real.

Kerry kissed her.

Kamala kissed back, but flinched just as she shifted, hissing through her teeth. “Fuck.”

Kerry pulled back instantly. “Okay, no, that’s it.” She got out of bed and grabbed the heating pad from the drawer. “You need a few days to recover before we even think about having sex again.”