Epilogue
One year later…
Billie stood on a stepladder in the middle of the living room with a paint roller in her hand, staring critically at the wall she’d just finished.
It was…beige. Warm beige. Not the clinical grey, black, and white she’d favoured for years.
She tipped her head to the side, squinting a little, then glanced down at the sheet running the length of the wall, flecked with accidental splashes.
“Okay.” Billie shrugged. “I don’t hate it.”
Debra offered her a low hum in agreement from where she was sprawled on the couch, one ankle crossed over the other.
She had a cup balanced on her stomach and her glasses perched on the end of her nose, but Billie knew she hadn’t read anything in a while.
In fact, she was almost certain Debra had nodded off at one point.
She climbed down the ladder and set the paint tray aside, wiping her hands on an old T-shirt she’d sacrificed for the job. “What do you think, babe? I mean, you practically live here at this point, so your opinion matters.”
“Give me a minute. I’m just appreciating.”
“Hmm.” Billie snorted as she shook her head. “I caught you appreciating earlier, too.”
“And I plan to continue.”
Billie glanced over her shoulder, catching Debra as her gaze swept the length of her body. She had paint smudges all over her, her hair scraped back into a messy knot, wearing an old pair of shorts and a tank top that had definitely seen better days.
A year ago, she would have been hyper-aware of how she looked and how she was being perceived. A year ago, she would have wondered whether she was performing the right version of herself. But now? Now, she just felt…present.
“Charlotte was right.” Debra gestured around the room. “It did have a bit of a bat cave feel to it before.”
“Don’t.” Billie groaned. “She said it so casually, too.”
“She wasn’t wrong, and she also wasn’t judging you. She was just noticing.”
“I know.” Billie leaned back against the kitchen island, her arms folded across her chest. “That’s what got me.”
She looked around again. The box of books waiting to be re-shelved and the throw draped over the arm of the couch that Debra had brought over but had never taken back.
Then there was the side of the wardrobe she’d taken one Sunday afternoon while Billie was cooking dinner, and the cup Debra always used, along with other bits and pieces that now belonged to her.
“This place,” Billie said. “Was designed for me to disappear into.”
Debra nodded slowly as an understanding smile settled on her lips. “I know.”
“It felt safer when I looked at it that way. There was nothing to knock into, nothing of any substance to explain to people if I did decide to invite someone over some day.” Billie lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t expect that anyone would want to stay.”
Debra set her cup down and got to her feet, crossing the room until she was standing in front of Billie. God, she was so strikingly beautiful that it took Billie’s breath away. “Do you still feel that way now?”
“No.” Billie smiled. “Now I want people to stay. I want you to stay.”
“Oh, I am staying, Billie.” Pride flickered across Debra’s face as she gazed back at Billie. Pride for their relationship…perhaps even a relief that they’d made it this far.
Billie’s attention drifted back to the wall, patchy where it was drying in places.
“It’s hard to believe we are where we are now.
Whenever I looked at you, whenever I allowed myself a moment to feel in those early days, I always came back to feeling undeserving of what could come next with you.
I didn’t think I had it in me to give you everything you deserved.
But then I realised I was only fighting myself and breaking my own heart. ”
Debra pressed a hand to Billie’s chest and leaned in to kiss her. Billie melted into it, as she so often did now, one arm wrapping around Debra’s waist to pull her in closer. When Debra drew back breathlessly, she touched her forehead to Billie’s. “I love you, and I’m proud to call you mine.”
“Same here.” Billie stroked Debra’s cheek and laughed. “Turns out the world doesn’t end when you choose yourself and happiness.”
“No. It just gets better.”
Billie swallowed down the lump in her throat and looked back at Debra. This woman had never once asked her to be smaller. She had watched her heal without rushing her. But most of all, she had loved Billie without condition. She reached out, leaving a faint streak of paint on Debra’s arm.
Debra glanced down, a brow raised as she gave Billie a questioning look. “Oh, you’re marking me now?”
“All mine.”
Debra grinned as she stepped back and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Obviously.”
“You know what…I think I’m done for the day.” Billie reached out for the paint tray. The sooner she’d cleared up, the sooner they could get comfy. “I’ll get this cleaned up, and then maybe we could order in?”
“Perfect. I’ll give you a hand.”
Billie stopped in the middle of the living room and glanced around again.
At the warmth in here now, and the light bouncing off the much brighter walls.
She could have lost all of this, or the opportunity to see where it went, anyway.
She could have been coming home here for the last year, as miserable as ever before, purely for having experienced Debra, only to walk away.
But she’d done what she always should have done.
She’d been brave, and she’d put herself first for a change.
And now, this wasn’t a space built to survive in anymore. It was a space she ached to come home to each evening, and a space filled with love and hope for a beautiful future. It was truly hers for the first time in her life.
Billie…was staying. No matter what.
Debra thanked the delivery driver as she took the paper bags in her arms and nudged the door shut with her foot.
She didn’t often enjoy the smell of fresh paint over dinner, but today marked a huge occasion in Debra’s mind.
Billie had let go of the last of who she used to be by giving the living room a makeover that only made Debra swoon all over again for her tall, dark, and handsome butch.
God, she’d never been so in love as she felt today.
“Billie, dinner has arrived!” Debra peered inside one of the bags, eyeing up her curry, and moved into the kitchen. “Billie?”
Nothing.
She turned around. Billie was standing in the middle of the living room watching her, frozen in place. She wasn’t pacing, she wasn’t even smiling, she was just…there. As still as anything.
Debra studied her, barefoot and not out of her paint clothes yet, unable to decipher the look her girlfriend was wearing. It almost tipped into that look Debra had only seen on a handful of occasions. The one that meant Billie was carrying something she didn’t quite know how to explain or put down.
“Hey.” Her stomach roiled when a million different thoughts started running through her mind.
Was Billie regressing? Had Debra said something to take her back to the darkest moments of her life?
She scanned her own memory, but nothing caught her attention.
She’d merely gotten up from the couch, collected dinner, and closed the door. “What’s going on?”
Billie crossed the room and eyed the bags still in Debra’s arms. “Could I, uh…could I take those for a moment?”
Debra nodded slowly and held them out. “I…yes. Of course.”
As Billie took them from her, Debra felt the tremor in her hands. Then she caught the way her fingers curled around the bags, her knuckles almost white.
“Billie…” Debra began. “If today has been too much for you…”
“I’ve been thinking.” Billie blew out a breath and turned back to Debra once the bags were safely on the counter. Debra noted her glassy eyes, noticed that Billie’s gaze kept shifting but never quite landed on her, and then… “I know that’s never a great way to start a conversation, but whatever.”
Debra’s heart started to pound, but she wouldn’t dream of showing it. “R-right, okay.”
Billie swallowed as she cast her gaze to the floor.
When she eventually found the courage to look Debra in the eye again, her stare was intense and unwavering.
“I’ve spent years of my life believing that I couldn’t have any of this.
” She gestured around them and shook her head.
“For so long, I thought love was something you had to learn to survive. When I wasn’t thinking that, I believed it was something you had to earn… or endure.”
Debra’s throat constricted painfully. She wanted to move closer, to take Billie in her arms, but she wouldn’t. Billie needed to say this, and Debra wouldn’t do anything to stop that from happening.
“And then you happened.” Billie smiled. “You didn’t want me to be smaller, you didn’t want to control me, and you’ve never once asked me to kneel or apologise.
But most of all, you’ve never once hurt me for loving you.
” Billie’s voice wavered, but she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.
“You just wanted me. All of me. The good and the bad.”
Debra took a step forward, but Billie lifted a hand. Not to stop her, but to ask for a moment longer.
“I know this isn’t how people expect things to happen, and I know I don’t have a perfect history or a tidy backstory or a version of myself that doesn’t still ache sometimes.
” Billie reached out and took Debra’s hands.
“But what I do know is that I’ve never felt this safe.
Or this happy. Or so fucking sure of anything in my life. ”
Billie lowered herself to one knee, and Debra immediately froze. Of all the scenarios she was working through in her mind, this hadn’t made the list at all. It hadn’t even entered her headspace as a fleeting thought.
Billie reached into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a small box.
“I don’t want to think about ever having to survive again,” Billie said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I want to live. With you. I want arguments about paint colours, I want takeaway nights like this, and I want your kids to laugh at us for being embarrassing. I want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life and always choose you, and I want you to always choose me…not because you have to, but because you want to.”
Debra’s vision blurred as she stared down at Billie.
God, this is happening. It’s really happening.
“I don’t need perfect, and I don’t need easy. I just need you. And I promise, with everything that I am now, that I’ll stand beside you always.” Billie opened the box to expose the most beautiful ring. It was understated, elegant, and entirely them. “Debra, will you marry me?”
Debra lowered herself to her knees in front of Billie and cradled her face with both hands as her own tears spilled down her cheeks. “Yes, baby. A million times over.”
Billie let out what could only be described as a half-sob, half-laugh as Debra pulled her upright.
And then Billie’s arms wrapped around her and Debra kissed her with a depth that spoke of home and a future, but most of all…
certainty. Certainty about who they were and what they shared.
Certainty when it came to the love they were capable of giving to one another.
Hadn’t the last year been proof of that already?
When they pulled apart, Debra stroked a thumb against Billie’s cheek and smiled. “Thank you for not running and giving me the chance to show you that we could do this.”
“I think I’m the one who is going to spend the rest of my life thanking you for not giving up on me. Even when it was probably easier to do exactly that, you gave me space, but you didn’t leave. Not really.”
“I didn’t have it in me.” Debra smiled when Billie plucked the ring from the box and slid it on her finger. “And thank God I didn’t.”
“I love you, Debra. I love you like I never knew it was possible.”
Debra lifted Billie’s hand and kissed her knuckles, lingering for a moment while she gathered her emotions. “Then I can only suggest one thing.”
“What’s that?” Billie lifted a brow.
“That we keep building on our love and just enjoy this.”
Billie wrapped Debra up in her arms, that strong embrace something Debra had come to crave every night lately, and kissed the top of her head as she whispered, “Try and stop me.”