Chapter 27 Danika
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Danika
Danika lies on her back, her fist resting on her forehead.
She should have made an excuse, cancelled this camping trip simply so she didn’t have to deal with this…
conflict inside her. One part of her wants so badly to pick up where they left off at Johanna Beach.
Oh, they can’t do more than kiss—the kids are just a couple of metres away—but kissing is all Danika wants at this stage.
Her mind fizzes to white as she considers anything past that.
But Kim’s kisses make her want to push past that blank in her mind and find out what comes next. She wants to feel Kim’s mouth on other parts of her body—and she wants to learn what Kim’s body feels like under her hands, under her tongue. How it tastes.
But how can she do that when she’s holding a secret from Kim, one that could break their closeness, shatter them apart? Money comes between so many people, and this isn’t an argument over whose turn it is to buy dinner. There are hundreds of thousands of dollars at stake.
If only Chris had left a bloody will. It’s the hundredth time she’s thought that.
When there was no will at the solicitors.
No will in their household safe, nor in his sock drawer, or in the effects that came back from work.
Nada. Nothing. And if she cursed him then for not taking care of them that way, she’s thought it again a hundred times since then.
Since her mum reminded her, starkly and silently, that the division of Chris’s estate was wrong. And unfair.
Leaving aside the house—which is legally Danika’s regardless of any division of the estate—there is just over eight hundred thousand dollars to take into consideration.
There’s fifty thousand in trust for Cami.
Danika has the rest. Once she paid off the mortgage, there was still around three-hundred thousand left over.
If Bella gets fifty thousand as Cami did, and she and Kim split the rest, that would be roughly three hundred and fifty thousand each.
But to do that, Danika would have to sell or re-mortgage the house.
Their lifestyle would change.
She’d have to work more hours.
She rolls onto her side, facing the wall of the tent.
What would a court determine about this?
The estate is settled, after all, and a court might not revisit the division.
But Danika knows she couldn’t live with herself if she keeps money that—ethically if not legally—belongs to Kim and Bella.
She tries to be a good person, to do the best for Cami.
How can she not give Cami’s sister the same treatment?
So what’s stopping her? Why hasn’t she already said to Kim, so, this is the situation?
Money again. It all comes down to money.
And she hates that. She doesn’t think twice about paying for Mirza’s lunch if she forgets her wallet, doesn’t chase up people who owe her small amounts of money—like when she took Cami and one of her classmates to the zoo and Lola’s father said he’d transfer the money for entry and forgot.
But this is hundreds of thousands of dollars, not thirty bucks, and it’s different.
She’ll be upending her and Cami’s security, their future security. Can she do that to her daughter?
Her mother’s face floats through her mind: eyebrow raised in question. She knows what Shirley thinks she should do. And her mum is right.
All of this is a problem for future Danika. When Kim enters the tent, Danika’s not going to sit up and start a debate about it. Not now. Not with Cami and Bella so close they could overhear.
But now, she has a more immediate question.
Kim will enter the tent, which at Johanna Beach became their private world.
Their cocoon away from the kids, where they were just Danika and Kim, two women who had found a connection that transcended the unbelievable tale of how they met, the threads and tangles between them.
Two women who, however they had come to this point, wanted more.
Kisses. Caresses. Skin to skin. And… more.
And it isn’t just sex or the possibility of sex.
There’s an emotional connection now between them.
Danika already cares deeply for Kim and Bella.
Their connection may have formed because of—or more likely, despite—Chris, but he’s not in the picture now.
Certainly for her. Chris’s betrayal froze her heart where he’s concerned.
She will always hold him dear for Cami’s sake, but something shifted in her chest and now, when she thinks of him, she’s just cold. Impassive.
And in the right-here and right-now, she wants to kiss Kim again. Wants to feel her lips on her own, wants the sweep of her tongue, the push of Kim’s hand into Danika’s hair. Wants to trail her fingers along the side of Kim’s neck, to trace her collarbone.
And maybe more.
But to deepen this between them, while she’s keeping such an immense secret, feels so very wrong.
Kim has been transparent with Danika since the morning she arrived on her doorstep unannounced. She has freely given Danika the information she needed, and, to Danika’s knowledge, has held nothing back.
Danika is a secret-keeper, and that seems deceptive.
There’s a rustle outside, then the rasp of the tent zipper being lowered. Kim is being considerate and trying to be quiet in case Danika is asleep.
Her heart pounds an unsteady rhythm, and the noise in her head is louder than the rippling river. It’s a battle between head and heart.
Resolutely, she closes her eyes, lies still and tries to breathe steadily.
The nylon sleeping bag rustles as Kim enters.
There’s a pause. Likely, Kim is checking to see if Danika is asleep—then the rustling resumes.
Clothes being removed. Kim retrieving her singlet and boxers that she sleeps in from underneath her pillow.
The brush of Kim’s arm on her back as she lies down.
Is she on her back? Her side? Which way is she facing?
Danika tries to keep her breathing slow and steady, but it’s as if she’s forgotten the rhythm.
Her lungs feel too empty after her long exhale, too quick on the inhale, her breathing too shallow, not the slow diaphragmatic breathing of sleep.
She waits for Kim to ask if she’s awake.
Kim is silent. She must know Danika is awake, but she must also realise that she’s feigning sleep for a reason.
Danika licks her lips, and the swallow, the wet sound of her lips parting and the movement of her tongue seem ridiculously loud. She swallows again. It must be in her head. Kim surely can’t hear her over the river noise.
But what if she can?
Danika opens her eyes. Through the tent walls she can see hazy light and shadow—moonlight on the river, the outline of a drooping branch on the far bank. There’s no sound from the girls’ tent.
What to do? What to do? Her heart and body war with her mind.
She rolls onto her back.
Kim draws a quick breath.
“I’m awake,” Danika says softly. “And I’m wondering what to do.” She fumbles for her torch, turns it on, then looks over at Kim, who is on her side, facing Danika.
Kim props herself up on one elbow. “What are the choices?”
“Kiss you.”
Kim smiles. “That sounds like a good option.”
“Or go to sleep.”
“Tough choice.” She tilts her head. “Is it something you want to talk about?”
Danika opens her mouth, the words already on her tongue. Kim would understand. But no. Now is not the time.
“I will. I have to. But I can’t now. I’m still working through…something.” She keeps her voice low, mindful of the kids close by.
“And this something is camping out in your head? I’m not trying to persuade you either way, Danika, but I can hold you if you’d like. Support you. I don’t need to know what your problem is. Sometimes it’s just good to be held by someone who cares.”
Someone who cares. Kim cares. Danika sucks a shuddery breath. Does that make it an easier or harder decision? But then, on some level, she’d already known Kim cares.
Just as she does.
But she owes Kim honesty now. “Thank you. But it concerns you, and it feels wrong to deepen what we have between us when…when I’m keeping something from you.”
Kim is silent for a moment. “Is it something bad? Something that I won’t like? Something that isn’t good for Bella or Cami?” Kim’s voice is also quiet.
“I don’t think so. Just something I have to work through.”
“I trust you, Danika. Whatever it is, I trust you to come out of this process in a good way. So I will hold you, kiss you, if that’s what you want. Or leave you alone to try to sleep.”
The concern in Kim’s voice is Danika’s undoing. The offer of comfort, the lack of prying. She turns off the torch then wriggles across the small space between them.
Kim rolls onto her back and opens her arms. Danika pushes aside her sleeping bag, Kim throws hers open and Danika settles against Kim’s side, one leg over both of Kim’s. She rests her head on Kim’s shoulder and sighs.
The wispy end of Kim’s plait tickles her cheek as Kim presses a kiss to the top of her head.
There’s a muted giggle from the other tent. So the girls aren’t asleep.
It’s comfortable lying here with Kim. Her chest rises and falls steadily, her arm wraps around Danika to stroke Danika’s upper arm, and the thump of her heartbeat resounds up through her chest.
Kim smells of wood smoke, and of the eucalyptus leaves they put on the fire. The skin of her shoulder is soft under Danika’s cheek, and she shuffles a bit to avoid the joint. Her cheek now rests on Kim’s chest, just above where her breast swells.
A burn starts in Danika’s belly, a pool of heat spreading out, spreading down. Kim’s not wearing a bra, and her breasts spill slightly to the sides. She’s a mature woman, not a perky teenager. There’s life and pregnancy changes to her body, as there are to Danika’s.
Kim’s thumb rubs a gentle back and forth on Danika’s upper arm.
Danika wraps her arm around Kim’s waist, and Kim’s touch moves to Danika’s shoulder, smooth caresses that touch on her collarbone.
It’s not a sexual caress, but more the touch of a friend.
Mirza has held Danika and comforted her in a similar way.
But Kim’s touch doesn’t feel like Mirza’s.
Mirza’s touch didn’t spark heat, didn’t ignite longing.
Didn’t make Danika want to stretch up and kiss her.
She wants to.
She shouldn’t. Her thoughts are loud and insistent: she should not do this. Not now. For so many reasons, not now.
Danika closes her eyes and the yearning for Kim washes over her. She raises her head, stares Kim in the eyes for a moment, checking this is okay.
Kim smiles, and that’s enough. Danika lunges forward, presses her lips to Kim’s, grips her shoulder and rolls so their upper bodies touch. Kim’s breasts push into her own, and her nipples are hard bullets. The knowledge that Kim is aroused gives her confidence.
She deepens the kiss, letting her tongue drift across Kim’s lips until they part, then daring to dip her tongue inside.
She doesn’t want to compare. Apart from Kim, Chris is the last person she kissed—the only person she kissed for so many years, and right now the comparison is odious and wrong.
But one part of her mind registers how well Kim kisses, how soft, how smooth, how unhurried.
As if kissing is the endgame, not just a prelude to fucking.
Kim smiles against Danika’s lips. She’s seemingly content to let Danika set the pace, and that emboldens her.
She drifts her hand up Kim’s ribs, on top of the singlet, and her fingers stroke the lower curve of Kim’s breast. For long moments, that is enough.
The only breasts she’s touched in this way are her own.
Sometimes when she masturbates, she’ll stroke her breasts, circle her nipples and imagine a faceless person sucking them.
She’s never imagined Chris when she masturbates—not ever. Self-pleasure is for fantasy.
Her fingers creep up, and she curves her hand around Kim’s breast. Hesitates.
“That feels good,” Kim says against her mouth.
Danika lets her hand remain there, but there’s a battle in her head. Not one about touching a woman in this way. But because it’s Kim, and this and the secret she’s keeping, is too much.
She moves her hand lower, curves it around Kim’s ribs. Breaks the kiss and rests her head back down on Kim’s shoulder.
Kim stays silent, but although she encloses Danika in her embrace, the feel of it is different. It’s gone from sensual to comfort—and nothing more.
“I’m sorry,” Danika says into Kim’s chest.
“Don’t be.”
“I need… I must…” She sighs. “I have to get something straight in my head before we do this again. If we do. It feels wrong otherwise.”
“I’d say I understand, but I don’t. But that’s okay. I trust you to tell me when you’re ready.”
A small laugh. “I will. I’m enjoying this too much.”
“Me too. Danika, is it because I’m a woman? Because I was Chris’s partner?”
Danika doesn’t have to think about that too hard.
“Not because you’re a woman. I’ve never been with a woman before, but that’s not it.
Because you were Chris’s partner? Well, that’s mixed in with it, but probably not in the way you think.
I’m sorry. I sound very cryptic. Please, can you trust me on this for now? ”
“Of course.” Kim’s answer comes sure and fast.
“Thank you.” For a moment longer, Danika lies there, secure in Kim’s loose embrace. Warm. Cared for. As if she’s with someone who has her back, no matter what. “Will you sleep? Or are there now enough unanswered questions to keep your mind buzzing until the early hours?”
“A bit of that, for sure,” Kim says. “But I’ll sleep.” She presses another kiss to the top of Danika’s head. “And I hope you will too.”
Danika’s mind is already spiralling down, slower and slower. She’s so comfortable. So secure. The buzz of arousal has dampened, and that’s a good thing.
For now.
But, she hopes, not for long.