the letter, part 2/?
Title: The Letter 2/?
Pairing: Our heroines of course
Rating: 15
Spoilers: To episode 86
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or claim to own them. I make no profit except the happiness of occasionally making their little fictional lives better, no infringement intended, standard disclaimer stuff, etc., etc.
Note: Yes, I stole and slightly altered that line from the Rita/Silvia conversation.
***
Please ask before linking or archiving. Gracias!
Part 1 is here
***
Chapter 2 (Lola)
It had been strange initially, to picture my sister and sister-in-law as a couple. I hadn’t consciously been aware at first of what was growing between them, not now and not years ago. Even though they had developed a strong friendship at the time, I saw their teenage tryst as nothing more than ill-timed experimentation, and as I watched them begin to rekindle a friendship, I hadn’t really suspected that there might be something more. Despite the experience at detecting the presence of clandestine relationships I’d honed observing Sara and Lucas, I’d let the evidence of this one fly almost completely under my radar.
So even though I’d admonished Silvia for what could be perceived as flirting that day at the café, I was surprised the afternoon she came to me, confused about her feelings for Pepa. The more she spoke that day, however, I had my own feeling that she wasn’t really all that confused about the existance of her attraction, she just wasn’t sure how to make it fit into the life she’d envisioned for herself, or that everyone else envisioned for her, and that frightened her.
The night that I returned from my art school trip, I was lying in bed, exhausted from travel, when Paco made the announcement.
Completely at random and apropos of nothing, he blurted out, “Our sisters are sleeping together!”
I looked at him in shock, “¿Que?”
“Our sisters, they’re novias.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“Pepa told me. Then they kissed. Silvia changed the subject, but.... And before, I saw them.” He reached for the paper sack he kept on the stand beside the bed and began to breathe heavily into it.
“You saw them what?”
He moved the bag for a minute and gasped. “You know, kissing and...some more. Joder, your father, I think he knows. I tried to convince him nothing was going on, but I don’t think he bought it.”
“Why did you do that? What does it matter?”
“What does it matter? This is Don Lorenzo we’re talking about! His daughter! My sister! ¡Coño!” He began to hyperventilate into the sack again.
I rolled my eyes. In a way he had a point, my father would not be pleased to know that Silvia was dating a woman, and he’d be even less pleased to know that woman was Pepa.
“If this is true, well, Silvia is a grown woman. He’ll have to learn to deal with it.” I said. And then I smiled, because I somehow had the feeling that for Silvia, this just might be right.
Paco just kept hyperventilating into his sack.
***
After that, I clearly saw what was developing, what had already developed. The longer they were together, how could you miss it? Even a blind man could see there was something between them. I didn’t think they could hide it if they tried. It showed in every look they exchanged, in the way Silvia blushed slightly and looked down as their fingertips touched when a plate was handed over at the dinner table, in the way Pepa ‘accidentally’ brushed against her as they passed in a room, or unconsciously placed a hand gently on the small of her back as they filed out a door. It was broadcast in the way each of their faces lit up when the other entered a room.
I’d never seen Silvia look so happy as when they were together, and I’d never seen her look so hurt as when she showed up at my door in Barcelona, eyes red-rimmed from crying, exhausted after driving the six hours that night from Madrid.
“I took a week off,” she stated flatly. “I needed to get away.”
It was completely unlike her. Normally she was one to throw herself into work to deal with, or avoid dealing with, personal or emotional issues. Silvia didn’t run out of town when she needed to think. This was serious.
Over the next few days, I managed to get the basics out of her, but little more, and I filled in the blanks with details provided by Sara. I tried to make sense of it all. In a way I could understand Silvia’s reluctance to risk a relationship with someone as volatile as Pepa, especially considering her history with Lucas. That had been a disaster. But while with Lucas Silvia had always seemed nervous and on edge, as if she were trying to hold down a wild animal, with Pepa she’d seemed calm and at ease, and each time I saw her, more confident both in herself and in the relationship. Still, I knew my sister well, and though she tried to hide it, there was a lot of pain in her that hid just below the surface. She could project a strong exterior, but underneath she was extremely sensitive and often vulnerable. I knew how much she’d wanted the child she had lost and I could only imagine how crushing the loss of hope for a family with someone she loved might be. In that way, I thought I understood a little of her hurt.
What I couldn’t comprehend was how even in light of their relationship, she seemed completely unwilling to talk to Pepa or try to come to some understanding with her. Silvia could be persistent and stubborn. I was used to her occasional neurosis. I was even used to her trying to wall off her emotions at times. But Silvia was an idealist when it came to love, and I’d never seen her so much in love. I knew that her feelings were just as strong as they had been, and I honestly believed that this was a love she should fight for. I wanted to find a way to convince her of that.
How to do this was another story. When I tried to talk about Pepa, she changed the subject. At night, through the thin walls of my piso, I could sometimes hear her muffled crying, but when I went to her door she’d grown silent. It was clear she didn’t want me to know how upset she was, and I didn’t want to embarrass her by knocking and acknowledging it.
One afternoon later in the week, we sat chatting over tea. I’d tried to bring up Pepa again, but the conversation segued into relationships in general.
“I don’t think I’ll be with a man again,” she said. “With a woman it's better, much more beautiful, sweeter.”
We’d never really talked about this before, and suddenly overcome by curiosity I temporarily abandoned my plan, little knowing that I would end up pulling out the emotions she was trying so hard to contain.
“Didn’t you ever miss.....” I trailed off.
“What? A penis?” She laughed.
I raised my eyebrows and nodded.
“Not really. They can be nice, but, you know, sexually, with Marquez and Gonzalo, I never really....got there.,” She said, “Even with Lucas it wasn’t a guarantee, and he could be pretty creative. But with Pepa? I never once had to fake it. I thought it would be strange being with her, at first, but it never was. It was amazing.
Do you remember that night of the street festival, the night before you left for your art programme? When I stayed over?” She asked.
I nodded.
“That was the first time....actually, the first time and the second time.”
I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. Too much information about my sister and sister-in-law, but I had asked and for once she was talking.
She paused. Her expression grew serious and a flicker of sadness showed in her eyes.
“With her, it wasn’t just sex though,” she continued. “It was different. I don't even know how to describe it. When we touched, when she kissed me....it was like our hearts were connected.”
She was silent for a moment. I saw the tears begin to form, but before they could fall, she stood up abruptly, turned away, and changed the subject. Grabbing her mug from the table, she moved toward the sink. “I’ll wash if you dry.”
***
That night I again heard her muffled crying from the guest room, but this time I decided to go in and not hold back.
I rapped lightly on the door and when I went in she sat up, turned, and quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to hide the evidence of her tears. When she looked back toward me, I came and sat on the bed beside her and brushed the mass of her thick hair off her shoulders and to her back, just like I had always done when she was little.
“Explain to me why you’re here, hermanita,” I said, “Do you think she doesn’t love you, because of what happened with Aitor?”
“No, I think she still loves me,” She replied. “But we’re better off apart. We’re just going to end up hurting each other.”
“Love means being hurt sometimes.”
“Are you excusing her?”
“No, but you're hurting each other. It’s not a one-way street. You pushed her away, she did something stupid.”
“You are excusing her.” She said firmly.
“I’m not, cariño. I don’t condone what she did. It was foolish and reckless. Remember though, you’d left her. You can’t have it both ways. If she’s not your novia, she has no responsibility to be faithful to you. I’m saying that perhaps neither of you are blameless here. Tell me, did you talk to her before you made these plans with the doctor at the fertility clinic? Did you discuss having a family together? Or did you make the decision for her?”
“No, but I...”
“I know how much you wanted your son, cariño, and how much a family would mean to you. I know it was difficult for you to think you were giving up a dream, but maybe she just needed time.”
“That’s what she said, but then she took matters into her own hands.”
“Like you did?”
She looked down. “I need someone more stable, to balance me out.”
“Someone more stable? Like Marquez? Like Gonzalo? I didn’t see you light up with them like you did with her.”
She didn’t answer.
“Silvia, I’ll always be on your side, no matter what you decide, or who you are with. But I think you are making a mistake. You say you want to avoid hurt, but look how much you are hurting now without her.”
“It will fade in time.”
“Will it? Maybe, but you’ll have thrown away something special. I’m telling you, I think it’s a mistake to walk away.”
“You walked away.”
“What happened between Paco and I had been building for a very long time. When I left, it was the final step in a process that began years ago. And when I left, even though a part of me still loved him and always will, I felt relieved. I felt free. Tell me, do you feel free?”
A fresh flood of tears began to roll down her cheeks. She shook her head. “No,” she said quietly.
“So how do you feel?”
She seemed to think for barely a second.
“Lost.”
I nodded. “I think if there was a question, hermana, that should be your answer.”
Pairing: Our heroines of course
Rating: 15
Spoilers: To episode 86
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or claim to own them. I make no profit except the happiness of occasionally making their little fictional lives better, no infringement intended, standard disclaimer stuff, etc., etc.
Note: Yes, I stole and slightly altered that line from the Rita/Silvia conversation.
***
Please ask before linking or archiving. Gracias!
Part 1 is here
***
Chapter 2 (Lola)
It had been strange initially, to picture my sister and sister-in-law as a couple. I hadn’t consciously been aware at first of what was growing between them, not now and not years ago. Even though they had developed a strong friendship at the time, I saw their teenage tryst as nothing more than ill-timed experimentation, and as I watched them begin to rekindle a friendship, I hadn’t really suspected that there might be something more. Despite the experience at detecting the presence of clandestine relationships I’d honed observing Sara and Lucas, I’d let the evidence of this one fly almost completely under my radar.
So even though I’d admonished Silvia for what could be perceived as flirting that day at the café, I was surprised the afternoon she came to me, confused about her feelings for Pepa. The more she spoke that day, however, I had my own feeling that she wasn’t really all that confused about the existance of her attraction, she just wasn’t sure how to make it fit into the life she’d envisioned for herself, or that everyone else envisioned for her, and that frightened her.
The night that I returned from my art school trip, I was lying in bed, exhausted from travel, when Paco made the announcement.
Completely at random and apropos of nothing, he blurted out, “Our sisters are sleeping together!”
I looked at him in shock, “¿Que?”
“Our sisters, they’re novias.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“Pepa told me. Then they kissed. Silvia changed the subject, but.... And before, I saw them.” He reached for the paper sack he kept on the stand beside the bed and began to breathe heavily into it.
“You saw them what?”
He moved the bag for a minute and gasped. “You know, kissing and...some more. Joder, your father, I think he knows. I tried to convince him nothing was going on, but I don’t think he bought it.”
“Why did you do that? What does it matter?”
“What does it matter? This is Don Lorenzo we’re talking about! His daughter! My sister! ¡Coño!” He began to hyperventilate into the sack again.
I rolled my eyes. In a way he had a point, my father would not be pleased to know that Silvia was dating a woman, and he’d be even less pleased to know that woman was Pepa.
“If this is true, well, Silvia is a grown woman. He’ll have to learn to deal with it.” I said. And then I smiled, because I somehow had the feeling that for Silvia, this just might be right.
Paco just kept hyperventilating into his sack.
***
After that, I clearly saw what was developing, what had already developed. The longer they were together, how could you miss it? Even a blind man could see there was something between them. I didn’t think they could hide it if they tried. It showed in every look they exchanged, in the way Silvia blushed slightly and looked down as their fingertips touched when a plate was handed over at the dinner table, in the way Pepa ‘accidentally’ brushed against her as they passed in a room, or unconsciously placed a hand gently on the small of her back as they filed out a door. It was broadcast in the way each of their faces lit up when the other entered a room.
I’d never seen Silvia look so happy as when they were together, and I’d never seen her look so hurt as when she showed up at my door in Barcelona, eyes red-rimmed from crying, exhausted after driving the six hours that night from Madrid.
“I took a week off,” she stated flatly. “I needed to get away.”
It was completely unlike her. Normally she was one to throw herself into work to deal with, or avoid dealing with, personal or emotional issues. Silvia didn’t run out of town when she needed to think. This was serious.
Over the next few days, I managed to get the basics out of her, but little more, and I filled in the blanks with details provided by Sara. I tried to make sense of it all. In a way I could understand Silvia’s reluctance to risk a relationship with someone as volatile as Pepa, especially considering her history with Lucas. That had been a disaster. But while with Lucas Silvia had always seemed nervous and on edge, as if she were trying to hold down a wild animal, with Pepa she’d seemed calm and at ease, and each time I saw her, more confident both in herself and in the relationship. Still, I knew my sister well, and though she tried to hide it, there was a lot of pain in her that hid just below the surface. She could project a strong exterior, but underneath she was extremely sensitive and often vulnerable. I knew how much she’d wanted the child she had lost and I could only imagine how crushing the loss of hope for a family with someone she loved might be. In that way, I thought I understood a little of her hurt.
What I couldn’t comprehend was how even in light of their relationship, she seemed completely unwilling to talk to Pepa or try to come to some understanding with her. Silvia could be persistent and stubborn. I was used to her occasional neurosis. I was even used to her trying to wall off her emotions at times. But Silvia was an idealist when it came to love, and I’d never seen her so much in love. I knew that her feelings were just as strong as they had been, and I honestly believed that this was a love she should fight for. I wanted to find a way to convince her of that.
How to do this was another story. When I tried to talk about Pepa, she changed the subject. At night, through the thin walls of my piso, I could sometimes hear her muffled crying, but when I went to her door she’d grown silent. It was clear she didn’t want me to know how upset she was, and I didn’t want to embarrass her by knocking and acknowledging it.
One afternoon later in the week, we sat chatting over tea. I’d tried to bring up Pepa again, but the conversation segued into relationships in general.
“I don’t think I’ll be with a man again,” she said. “With a woman it's better, much more beautiful, sweeter.”
We’d never really talked about this before, and suddenly overcome by curiosity I temporarily abandoned my plan, little knowing that I would end up pulling out the emotions she was trying so hard to contain.
“Didn’t you ever miss.....” I trailed off.
“What? A penis?” She laughed.
I raised my eyebrows and nodded.
“Not really. They can be nice, but, you know, sexually, with Marquez and Gonzalo, I never really....got there.,” She said, “Even with Lucas it wasn’t a guarantee, and he could be pretty creative. But with Pepa? I never once had to fake it. I thought it would be strange being with her, at first, but it never was. It was amazing.
Do you remember that night of the street festival, the night before you left for your art programme? When I stayed over?” She asked.
I nodded.
“That was the first time....actually, the first time and the second time.”
I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. Too much information about my sister and sister-in-law, but I had asked and for once she was talking.
She paused. Her expression grew serious and a flicker of sadness showed in her eyes.
“With her, it wasn’t just sex though,” she continued. “It was different. I don't even know how to describe it. When we touched, when she kissed me....it was like our hearts were connected.”
She was silent for a moment. I saw the tears begin to form, but before they could fall, she stood up abruptly, turned away, and changed the subject. Grabbing her mug from the table, she moved toward the sink. “I’ll wash if you dry.”
***
That night I again heard her muffled crying from the guest room, but this time I decided to go in and not hold back.
I rapped lightly on the door and when I went in she sat up, turned, and quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to hide the evidence of her tears. When she looked back toward me, I came and sat on the bed beside her and brushed the mass of her thick hair off her shoulders and to her back, just like I had always done when she was little.
“Explain to me why you’re here, hermanita,” I said, “Do you think she doesn’t love you, because of what happened with Aitor?”
“No, I think she still loves me,” She replied. “But we’re better off apart. We’re just going to end up hurting each other.”
“Love means being hurt sometimes.”
“Are you excusing her?”
“No, but you're hurting each other. It’s not a one-way street. You pushed her away, she did something stupid.”
“You are excusing her.” She said firmly.
“I’m not, cariño. I don’t condone what she did. It was foolish and reckless. Remember though, you’d left her. You can’t have it both ways. If she’s not your novia, she has no responsibility to be faithful to you. I’m saying that perhaps neither of you are blameless here. Tell me, did you talk to her before you made these plans with the doctor at the fertility clinic? Did you discuss having a family together? Or did you make the decision for her?”
“No, but I...”
“I know how much you wanted your son, cariño, and how much a family would mean to you. I know it was difficult for you to think you were giving up a dream, but maybe she just needed time.”
“That’s what she said, but then she took matters into her own hands.”
“Like you did?”
She looked down. “I need someone more stable, to balance me out.”
“Someone more stable? Like Marquez? Like Gonzalo? I didn’t see you light up with them like you did with her.”
She didn’t answer.
“Silvia, I’ll always be on your side, no matter what you decide, or who you are with. But I think you are making a mistake. You say you want to avoid hurt, but look how much you are hurting now without her.”
“It will fade in time.”
“Will it? Maybe, but you’ll have thrown away something special. I’m telling you, I think it’s a mistake to walk away.”
“You walked away.”
“What happened between Paco and I had been building for a very long time. When I left, it was the final step in a process that began years ago. And when I left, even though a part of me still loved him and always will, I felt relieved. I felt free. Tell me, do you feel free?”
A fresh flood of tears began to roll down her cheeks. She shook her head. “No,” she said quietly.
“So how do you feel?”
She seemed to think for barely a second.
“Lost.”
I nodded. “I think if there was a question, hermana, that should be your answer.”