Make Room for Love

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

“Mira’s here!” someone shouted as Mira entered the bar, holding Isabel’s hand. A round of cheers and whoops rang out.

Mira smiled, letting her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. It was hot for the first week of June, and only five p.m. on a Thursday, but everyone had left their offices early to celebrate. For months, Mira and the rest of the bargaining committee had endured endless rounds of negotiations, holed up in conference rooms with the university’s administrators and lawyers. She’d squeezed in her teaching and research, and a little sleep here and there when she could. And now they had a contract.

Isabel was finally out of her cast and on light duty at work. She was in very short jean shorts, a baseball cap, and a T-shirt for her union local with the sleeves cut off—truly a sight to behold. She hadn’t lost much muscle at all. They’d be doing more than holding hands once they got home, that was for sure.

Shreya emerged from the crowd and greeted them both. “So, you did it. We’re proud of you. How does it feel?”

Surrounded by her raucously celebrating coworkers, all of whose futures and livelihoods she cared about as though they were her own, Mira had never been so full of joy. “I think I need a vacation. Maybe I’ll take one when our back pay comes in.” She had enough back pay coming to her to cover her rent for months, and good health insurance, and almost everything else they’d fought for.

Shreya wasn’t so fortunate. She’d finally had her visa renewed, but the university wasn’t going to pay her legal expenses retroactively. She’d had to ask her coworkers for more help. Isabel had found out, sent her a few thousand dollars, and said, “It’s nothing.”

Maybe it was time to take a vacation. The last few months had been some of the hardest of Mira’s life. She’d been stretched thin, doing her union work by day and caring for Isabel by night. But it had been worth every second, and the ways it had tested her relationship with Isabel had made it unbreakable.

She made the rounds. So many friends, so many colleagues, so many people whose lives and struggles she’d gotten to know. Even Patrick thanked her and shook her hand. It felt good to introduce Isabel to everyone—again—and show them exactly who Isabel was to her.

They filed out early with Shreya and a few other people; it was, after all, a work night. On their way to the subway, someone in the front started singing “Solidarity Forever.”

Mira winced and laughed. Singing in public? Seriously? But Isabel, still holding hands with her, joined in with a surprisingly loud, clear voice. Soon, other people came in. Mira had never thought much of her own creaky singing voice, but after the second verse, she joined in on the chorus: “Solidarity forever, for the union makes us strong!”

When they reached the apartment, still holding hands, Isabel was more content than she’d been in some time. She’d been antsy over the last few weeks, forced on light duty at work and forced by Mira to take it easy outside of work. It had been good to go out for once and see Mira’s friends, some of whom were becoming her friends, too.

Mira was deservedly proud of herself, and Isabel was overflowing with pride for her. The contract negotiations had worn Mira down. More than once, she’d fallen asleep on the couch or sitting at the table, and Isabel had needed to gently wake her up. She would have preferred to just carry Mira to bed, but she was making peace with her injuries.

Isabel was healing in all kinds of ways. She was keeping up with physical therapy, and seeing a new therapist, too, one who didn’t make Isabel want to rip her own hair out. She and Grace were closer than ever despite the chaos of the impending wedding. She’d cautiously invited old friends to visit her and to meet Mira.

And, most of all, she and Mira had endured months of Isabel staying at home and needing care. It hadn’t been easy, learning how to be patient against her will. They hadn’t been perfect to each other all the time. But they’d been so good to each other, and their relationship had only grown deeper, stronger, better.

Isabel would keep being patient. She had her whole life ahead of her, with Mira by her side.

Mira was thrumming with energy as they climbed the stairs. As soon as they stepped through the door, she flung her arms around Isabel’s neck, pulled her down, and kissed her. Lately, Mira hadn’t had energy for anything beyond snuggling in bed. But she clearly had something else in mind tonight.

They stumbled to the bedroom, and she backed Isabel against the dresser, exactly as careful with Isabel’s healing wrist as she needed to be. Between messy, breathless kisses, she pulled Isabel’s shirt over her head, tugged her shorts down, and unclasped her bra and yanked it off. Once Isabel was down to her boxers, Mira said, “Lie down.”

Heat swept through Isabel. Mira’s bossy side had been in full force these last few months. Maybe it had been worth breaking her wrist for. She did as she was told, getting on the bed and leaning against the headboard. Mira made a show of looking her over. “Good girl.”

Isabel laughed. She flushed, too. She adored this woman so much. Mira was still in her work clothes, and she slipped her light cardigan off her shoulders and set it on the dresser. Then she slowly unbuttoned her summery blouse, not teasing Isabel so much as simply taking her time.

The nude cotton bra underneath gave Isabel a quiet thrill. She loved Mira’s lacy lingerie sets, loved seeing Mira in them and out of them. But she also loved seeing Mira at ease, relaxing at home in leggings with her hair in a scrunchie and no makeup, comfortable and happy.

Once Mira took off her blouse, she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, revealing her practical black underwear. She wasn’t trying to be sexy about undressing, and the everyday-ness was the best thing about it. Isabel had seen Mira do this dozens of times, and it never got old. She would gladly watch Mira do it every day for the rest of their lives.

Down to her bra and panties, Mira climbed on top of Isabel and straddled her hips. Isabel stroked Mira’s inner thighs, reveling in their silky softness. “You have no idea how frustrating it’s been to only touch you with one hand,” she said. “I can’t wait to get both my hands on you.”

Mira laughed. “Who says you get to?” She gently pinned Isabel’s hands at her sides. Isabel let out a noise of frustration. “You will,” Mira said. “Just relax. Lie back and let me take care of you.”

Afterward, teeth brushed, back under the covers, Isabel let Mira roll her onto her side. Mira spooned her, her smaller body soft and radiating heat against Isabel’s back. “You’ve been taking advantage of my broken wrist to make me the little spoon,” Isabel said.

“First of all, you’re hardly little.” Mira squeezed a handful of Isabel’s thigh. “Second of all, it was your fault. Third of all, you wouldn’t keep letting me do it if you didn’t like it.”

“I can see why they put you on the bargaining committee.” Thank god they could joke about it now. It hadn’t been easy relying on Mira for her most basic needs—getting dressed, showering, having her hair braided. At times, it had triggered her worst fears: that she wouldn’t be able to take care of Mira or her parents or Grace anymore, that she was broken. But Mira had listened, and she’d stuck around.

Throughout these months, as the winter thawed to spring, she’d made herself chrysanthemum tea from the dried buds Mira had brought home. As she’d watched the petals unfold, she’d thought of her po po and her mom and her sisters—all the women in her family who’d cared for her, and now Mira among them, too.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Isabel said. “Do you want to move in with me? I mean, to this room. I know you’ve been sleeping in your room because you didn’t want to disturb me. But you can have more space for your things, and we could turn your room into an office. I’ll renovate it however you want.”

“You’re very sweet, but no,” Mira answered immediately. She kissed Isabel on the shoulder. “I like sleeping in my own bed and not getting woken up at five by your alarm. And I like having my own space. You know I love sleeping in your bed and waking up next to you, but I don’t want to do it every night.” Mira nipped gently at her shoulder. “And I want it to be a special treat when you fuck me in your bed.”

Isabel shivered. She wiggled out from Mira’s grasp and lay on her back. Mira got on top of her again, entwining their limbs together like an octopus. “Okay,” Isabel said. She kissed Mira on the top of her head and inhaled the familiar coconut fragrance, and the warm, unmatched scent of her skin. The scent of home. “We can stay roommates.”

“This is what you do with your roommates?”

“If they’re as beautiful and brilliant and sexy as you are, then, yeah, I might.”

“Oh, stop,” Mira said, grinning. She rolled over and turned the light off. “Still working overtime. Take a break. You’ve already seduced me.” A lazy kiss, with the promise of so many more ahead of them. “You know I’m already yours,” Mira said, pressing their foreheads together. Isabel waited for the rest. “And you’re already mine.”

They’d fall asleep and wake up together. They’d keep waking up with each other, whether in the same bed or apart. They’d keep doing their life’s work and coming home to each other, day after day, year after year. And all Isabel had to do was allow herself to be loved—the hardest and easiest thing in the world.

She relaxed against Mira’s warmth, closed her eyes, and let herself rest.