Mira sighed, strands of longing and fear and hope tangling in her chest. Being nestled against Isabel’s softness and warmthright now would be wonderful. But everything was complicated at home. “Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t exactly have a fight with her, but…”
Shreya frowned. “Is something wrong? I thought I liked her.”
Mira smiled. Shreya had met Dylan once; she had told him that she’d never heard of his novel, but he must be very proud of himself. It was endearing that Shreya was still looking out for her, but it wasn’t necessary—Mira was about to say so when the barista called out their drinks.
Mira drank half of hers in a few gulps, and the warmth and caffeine suffused her. She gingerly rolled her neck to stretch the muscles. She was so stiff. “That much espresso can’t be good for you,” Shreya said. “Okay, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing to be concerned about. It’s just complicated.” Was she really about to tell Shreya, of all people, about her relationship problems? Her life had taken stranger turns. “I think Isabel wants some space. She has a hard time being taken care of.”
“Oh,” Shreya said. “Well, just go home and do it anyway. What’s she going to do, stop you? Her wrist is broken.”
Mira sputtered, then laughed. That was hard to argue with. Something clicked into place.
Mira was always bracing for the people around her to hurt her. She had good reason to. And Isabel had made mistakes—she’d tried to hold on to Mira in all the wrong ways, ways that reopened Mira’s old wounds. But Isabel was just an imperfect, scared, vulnerable, brave person like Mira herself. She was human, no more and no less.
It was time to stop assuming that Isabel would always have something Mira didn’t have. Time to stop taking for granted that Isabel would always have the upper hand. If this was goingto work, they were going to have to truly be equals, to truly be partners.
Mira hadn’t been ready to see it before. But seeing Isabel broken and despondent in the hospital bed had changed her. And seeing Isabel this morning, too, full of wounded pride and hope as she’d wished Mira good luck.
They would make mistakes and hurt each other. But they could forgive each other, too, and they could forgive themselves. Isabel would have to play her part, and Mira couldn’t force her to do it. But Mira could wait, and see, and make room.
Maybe this was what freedom felt like. Months ago, at the start, she’d thought that freedom meant being able to cut and run. It was what she’d needed at the time. But now, finally, she felt free enough to stay—free to choose Isabel, to be with her through the good and the bad, to throw herself into the pain and joy of loving someone even if she didn’t know what was on the other side.
“Anyway,” Shreya said, apparently considering the matter settled. “I’m not just telling you to get some rest out of the goodness of my heart. You know that if we win, we’re going to start nominating people for the bargaining committee next week.” Mira nodded. They needed to start bargaining for a new contract, and they couldn’t waste any time. “I’m going to nominate you, and so will a lot of other people.”
“Really?” Mira couldn’t even think about life after the election right now.
“Yes, really. I want you to run.”
The idea of it was overwhelming. The needs of thousands of grad students would be on her shoulders when they sat down to negotiate with the university. It would be the hardest, most important thing she’d ever done. And her coworkers trusted her to do it. Maybe she’d had to prove herself to them less than she’d thought.
Half a year ago, she couldn’t even have imagined it. Fresh from her breakup, she’d been afraid of never finding stability or safety again. But she had, and so much more: She had found solidarity, and she had found love.
Isabel’s care for her, day in and day out, had changed her life. Mira had grown into the person Isabel had seen in her from the beginning: someone who knew what she wanted and needed, someone who would fight for herself and the people she cared about, someone who listened and spoke out even when she was afraid.
Mira was suddenly desperate to see Isabel again. “I’ll think about it. I’m going to go. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Good.” Shreya smiled like someone who had executed a plan perfectly. “Rest up. We’ll really get started next week.”
“I will.” Isabel had reminded her to rest and take care of herself, and Mira had been stubborn about it. She didn’t have to do that anymore. It was time to go home.
35
“This place looks different,”Grace said. She set her purse on the coffee table and sat in the armchair. It was disorienting to see her in the apartment again after so much had changed. “I like the new shelves.”
“Thanks. They’re Mira’s books.” Isabel resisted the impulse to go on about how many languages Mira knew, her teaching award, how brilliant she was. Maybe there would be time later if she and Grace got through this. She imagined Mira’s kindness and understanding wrapped around herself like a mantle, giving her strength, and hoped it would be enough.
“She seems smart.” Grace hesitated. “Anyway, I’m sorry about what I said last time, about you being a good partner. I really am. I didn’t know about your new girlfriend. But I shouldn’t have said it, either way.”
Isabel bit back the urge to say that it was fine, to pretend to be the perfect magnanimous older sister. Grace deserved her honesty. “Thanks. Yeah, that really fucking hurt. But I think that was mostly about me and not about you. I shouldn’t have said what I said about Kevin either. That was also mostly about me.”
Grace gave her a look urging her to go on. Isabel shrugged with one shoulder. “I realized I was worked up over my ownissues. I never got to know Kevin, and it’s none of my business anyway. Like you said.” Isabel’s pride had already taken so many hits that one more couldn’t deflate it further. “I really do just want you to be happy.”
Grace smiled. “Yeah, you were making it about yourself,” she said, as though it had been obvious. “You know, Kevin helped me a lot after Alexa died. We hadn’t even been dating for long, and he just listened to me and didn’t try to say all the right things or make it better, which was what I needed. He knew there wasn’t anything else he could do. It’s not a bad thing to not be constantly trying to solve other people’s problems.”
Isabel’s jealousy flared, and with it, a sense of loss. “You never talked to me about how you were doing back then. I thought you just didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t make it easy. All you ever talked about is how we need to support our parents, funeral planning, all that stuff. I don’t think you ever told me a single time that you missed her.”