Lavender Love

Continues from last episode.

The bar lights were dim, humming low with the easy rhythm of a slow evening crowd. Chris sat hunched over her drink, the amber liquid catching what little light filtered through the slatted blinds. Her posture was still, unmoving, but her eyes were restless. She looked like someone trying not to drown, even in shallow water.

Ally, perched across from her on a cushioned stool, leaned in, eyes wide with disbelief.

“No... no, like there’s no way that’s happening,” she said, shaking her head. “Come on, Chris—Armani loves you. There’s no way she’s creeping behind your back.”

Chris exhaled slowly, running her finger along the rim of her glass.

“Well... after what she told me last night, I’m not so sure about that anymore,” she said quietly.

Ally’s expression hardened. “What? Last night? What did she say?”

“She said... she thinks we should see other people. And that our love is a lie.”

Chris didn’t look up. Her voice cracked around the last word as she stared into her drink, watching the ice melt.

Ally blinked. “Get the fuck outta here. Jesus—she said that?”

“Yeah,” Chris replied.

“Fuck... do you know if she’s acting on it?”

Chris hesitated before answering. “Jasmine said she saw her here last week... with a woman named Jodi. And I wouldn’t think too much of it—if she hadn’t lied about where she was.”

The weight of it all sank into the space between them. Ally’s face twisted in frustration as she grabbed her purse and stood. Chris followed suit. They both drained the rest of their drinks, tossed cash on the table, and walked out into the cool breath of early evening.

“Alright,” Ally said, her voice trying to find a calm it didn’t feel. “No... j-just calm down. Let’s not jump to conclusions. You know Jasmine is a flickering light bulb when it comes to passing on information.”

Chris offered a small shrug.

“Okay,” she said. “Anyways... Jasmine said everybody’s meeting at the Lounge tonight. Are you going? Please say yes, Al. I really can’t deal with Regina’s wannabe glamorous life bullshit tonight.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “I’ll go, but only if you keep Trina the fuck away from me. What time you heading out?”

“I was gonna stop back at the house for a bit. I need to make sure some prints were delivered for Armani. So... probably in about an hour.”

“Okay. Mind if I get ready at your house?” Ally asked. “Maintenance is doing construction on my apartment floor, and the repair guy keeps running in and out. I can’t.”

“Sure,” Chris said.

By the time they pulled up to Chris’s house, the sun had dipped low. The sky wore a velvet wash of lavender and blue, clouds streaking in soft motion above. A brown paper-wrapped package rested neatly beside the door.

“Oh, those must be the prints you were talking about earlier,” Ally noted.

They stepped into the house to the warm, inviting smell of fresh coffee. The space was quiet, save for the faint bubbling of the coffee pot and the distant hum of city life. From the kitchen, Armani emerged, dressed in casual loungewear, her face tired but still ethereal.

“Hey, honey,” Chris said, a flicker of excitement slipping into her voice. She stepped forward and kissed her wife gently. “What are you doing home so early?”

Armani returned the kiss and offered Ally a tired smile. “Hey, Al. The meeting with Kelly didn’t run as long as I thought it would. And it was crazy at the office today. I mean, a fucking blood bath. We’re almost six months behind on the Moonlight District Exhibition because of issues with the art transport.”

She took a breath, then asked, “Are you guys going out to the Lounge tonight? Jasmine said everyone wanted to go.”

“Yeah,” Ally answered. “Chris said it was okay if I got ready here. I hope you don’t mind, Moni?”

Armani nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool. I’m done getting dressed anyway.”

She headed toward the bedroom, leaving Chris and Ally in the entryway.

Night began to seep into the windows as Chris made her way down the hall. Armani appeared again, leaning softly in the doorway of their bedroom. Her expression was hesitant, her voice almost a whisper.

“Hey,” she said.

Chris turned to look at her, offering a soft smile. “Hey.”

“You got a minute?”

“I always have a minute for you.”

Armani stepped into the room, fingers twisting nervously.

“About last night...” she began, eyes dropping to the floor, “just forget what I said.”

Chris’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Armani paused. She took a moment, breathing through her thoughts before speaking.

“Because... when I envision my life, I see all my accomplishments and all my successes. But I also see so much of myself that I haven’t explored. Adventures I haven’t begun to take. And I felt like I was missing something. I thought I wanted this life I was imagining—but even that doesn’t feel right.”

She moved closer, gently lifting her hand to Chris’s cheek.

“But then I look at you... and I know that this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Chris swallowed hard. Her chest tightened, caught somewhere between love and pain.

“I really appreciate you opening up to me like that,” she said. “But what you said really hurt me. I want to know that we’re okay. Can we set up a therapy session with Andrew Roxbury tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll text him right now,” Armani said without hesitation.

From the living room, Ally’s voice rang out.

“Come on, you guys! Let’s hit it! You know the Lounge gets packed on Thursday nights. Parking is gonna be impossible!”

The city shimmered in nightlife glamour as they cruised down the main strip. Neon signs buzzed. Streetlights glowed. Laughter and music floated from restaurant patios and packed bars. After circling for several minutes, Chris finally parked behind a sleek, two-tone Fiat in a tight street spot.

“Told you guys this would happen,” Ally grumbled. “Let’s just park on the street.”

They filed into the Lounge, where plush couches and violet lighting set the tone. Inside, the energy was already building. R&B bass lines pulsed through the speakers, and the air smelled like rum and perfume.

Near the back, their circle waited:

Jasmine, eyes glued to her phone, probably livestreaming.

Trina, radio voice on full blast, commanding every conversation.

Regina, dressed head-to-toe in labels, living for attention and thirsty glances.