Zoe squinted at the clock as she threw on her robe; 5:25 a.m. Monday had come way too fast. With a gentle pull she closed the bedroom door so as not to awaken Isabel and headed to the kitchen.
What a wonderful day they had yesterday. They’d both made a conscious effort to avoid discussing anything related to children and work. And true to her word, Isabel had spoiled her rotten. From a quiche breakfast in bed to a salmon dinner with a white wine reduction—along with the baked brie appetizer she loved—she’d been treated like a queen.
In between the gourmet meals, they snuggled and talked about their itinerary for Taos, an artist’s colony a few hours away where they’d planned to spend the second week of their vacation. It would be there, during a romantic moment at sunset while sipping wine and gazing at glowing mountain peaks, that Zoe planned to surprise Isabel with the heart-shaped engagement ring.
She switched the living room light on. The pastel streaks on the hand-blown glass chandelier Isabel had inherited bathed the room in the soft peach hues of the morning sunrise. Born into a wealthy Austrian family, Isabel’s early childhood years had been spent in Vienna, where she acquired a sophisticated taste in decor. Even though Zoe favored the Santa Fe style, with pottery and wood, Isabel had enough touches to make her townhouse feel homey.
As Zoe passed the living room glass coffee table a glossy brochure caught her attention. It hadn’t been there yesterday. Two women with wide happy smiles—one very pregnant—beamed at her from the cover. Both women had their hands on the bulging abdomen, sharing in the cradling and support of the nine-month load.
The cover read: “Partner IVF.”
She grinned. Her smart love had snuck it out last night, clearing the table of everything but the brochure, making it impossible to miss. Zoe picked it up. She should be fair and take a look at it.
At the kitchen’s granite counter, she read the brochure as she drank coffee.
“Morning.” Isabel wandered in wearing the rose-colored spa robe Zoe had bought for her in Italy. She poured coffee into a mug and sat across from Zoe. “Why didn’t you wake me up? We can’t be late this morning. The annual meeting is a big deal to Easton.”
Zoe leaned across the counter and kissed her. “Morning, baby. You worked hard yesterday, preparing all those delicious gourmet meals. I thought you deserved extra sleep. It was a fantastic day, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Isabel’s smile faded. “You’re rubbing your jaw. Did you have a bad dream last night?”
“No, not that I remember, anyway.” Zoe dropped her hand from her face onto the brochure. Her jaw did hurt. She was glad she didn’t remember her nightmare.
Isabel’s gaze followed Zoe’s hand down to the brochure. She cupped her mug and sipped. “So, what do you think?”
“You’re right. The clinic is wonderfully supportive of gay couples and there’s tons of planning involved for this.”
“Oh, Zoe, it’s exciting. To me, it’s better than adoption. It lets us be part of our child’s conception. We can use your eggs and I’ll carry the baby since I sit in front of a computer most of the time.”
Zoe crinkled the edge of the brochure. “I had both my ovaries removed.”
“What?” Isabel slammed her mug down. “When?”
“When I was twenty-one. Before I met you. When I was to become the Wildcat.”
Isabel’s eyes spit fire. “You didn’t think to tell me this, knowing I wanted kids?”
Zoe grabbed her hand. “I didn’t purposefully avoid telling you. Be fair, we didn’t even talk about marriage until a few months ago. And I never thought—until you brought it up recently—that a child would be in my future. I think it’s incredibly beautiful you wish to carry our child.”
Pain, sharp jagged glass shards, sliced Zoe’s gut at the heartbreak in Isabel’s eyes. She heard herself say, even though it would never happen, “If we decide to go this route, we can use your eggs. Isn’t it really about us making a family unit? To me, our child never had to be our ‘biological’ one.”
Isabel yanked her hand away. “Why did you take both ovaries?”
“Because I had severe premenstrual syndrome. I wanted to eliminate the physical symptoms which interfered with me while on ops. But also, since in my job I have to look like a woman but act like a cutthroat man, I decided to remove both ovaries to take away any possibility of female hormonal maternal urges so I could end life instead of wishing to conceive one.”
Isabel stared at her with disbelief and then shook her head. “You’d do anything to yourself to be the best.” She clenched her hands together. “What’s really your issue with children? You just tried to save one in Prague, so I know your heart isn’t cold toward them.”
“I thought she was being chased by a human trafficker, and I hate bullies. That’s what happened in Prague.” Zoe bit her tongue. It’d be useless to repeat what she’d already said about not having time to be parents. Isabel guarded her motherhood dream with the ferocity of a grizzly protecting her cubs. She wouldn’t hear it.
Isabel bolted up from her chair. “I wonder how many other secrets you have. I’m going to take a shower. We’ve only got an hour before we have to leave for the meeting.”
She stormed from the kitchen.
The bathroom door slammed.
Zoe stared at Isabel’s empty seat, her stomach churning. She hated this new confrontational situation. It was rare for them to argue. Their focus for the last ten years had been just to enjoy one another and not think about the future. Now, in a sudden switch, they’d dashed onto the emotional minefield of marriage and children.
Grabbing her mug, she went to the coffeepot. Could she have handled the conversation better? Yes, but she only knew how to be one way—to the point and direct. Even after all this time, they had much to learn about each other and how to communicate.
As she poured, she recalled how Isabel’s eyes had sparkled when they talked about children and how her face had a gentle glow when she said the word child.
Isabel would be an incredible mother.
Back at the counter, she scowled at the smiling women on the cover. Seizing the brochure, she stuffed it into the garbage disposal.
And punched the switch.
The grinding metal shredded Isabel’s dream of them creating their own baby together.
The pain…the burning, stinging pain…
She rushed into the living room to her purse on the couch and grabbed the silver case, popping a pill under her tongue.
“How many pills do you take a day?” Wrapped in a towel, Isabel stood in the doorway.
Zoe shrugged. “Depends.” She brushed past Isabel and went into the kitchen.
A cold wave hit her, and she flinched as her veins froze one by one. As she reached for her mug, her fingers bent as a jolt of energy socked her. Her hands twitched. Damn! The shakes were instant now. She’d have to get Shane to change her prescription. She jammed her hands into her bathrobe pockets.
“Zoe, what’s wrong?” Isabel said, following her. “Why did you take a pill?”
Zoe swung around and faced Isabel. The drugs had frozen her every atom. She was a walking icebox. “Please don’t interrogate me. My turn for a shower.”
Isabel grasped Zoe’s arm. “I don’t want a pill-popping junkie for my wife or as a parent to my child. While it breaks my heart I can’t carry a child that’s a part of you, as you said, the important thing is we’re making a family unit. The key is we. The universe doesn’t revolve only around you anymore.”
Her grip tightened. “I expect you to clean up your act. No drugs. No one-nighters. I want to make a home with the Zoe I know and love. Not with the predator Wildcat on the search for the high, the kill. Wasn’t yesterday wonderful? I know you didn’t take any pills and you were happy, right? You need therapy because of Woodbury, not drugs. I can get you the help you need.”
Zoe yanked her arm free. “Stop haranguing me! God, you sound like a wife already. No more lectures please. We’re going to get plenty today from Easton and Shane. Excuse me, I’m taking a shower. As you said, we can’t be late.”
In the shower she bent her head and let the warm water run over her. Shit. The drugs made her a bitch. She didn’t know if she could turn it off. It was going to be a hell of an adjustment living with Isabel.
She brought her hands up to her face. Her trembling had subsided into a sporadic quiver. Isabel was right. She hadn’t taken a pill yesterday…because she was happy.
But to kill, she had to be heartless. Isabel didn’t understand that.
Turning the temperature up, she angled her stiff left shoulder under the hot water. Isabel had been right, too, about Woodbury, and therapy. But therapy would take years. Maybe, if she tried facing her past, and using it instead of drugs, she could break the addiction.
She switched the shower head to a hard spray.
Hot, burning pounded her shoulder…
Crack! went the whip…
Her teeth clenched as she remembered the sneer of her instructor when she flinched as she slid her bra strap up onto her blistering shoulder blade after a whipping.
With her fist, she punched the faucet handle down, cutting off the water stream. She opened the shower curtain with a violent tug.
Memories worked for bringing up the anger, but the damn GTA drugs balanced it by freezing her exploding emotional response.
Zoe exhaled several times to bring her rage to a simmer as she toweled dry. She walked into the bedroom nude.
Isabel stood with her back to Zoe in a silk coral blouse and black pants. She picked up a black jacket off the bed and slid it on.
The professional Isabel. The brilliant Director of Information Analysis and Cyberwarfare Isabel.
The Isabel that murdered with codes and programs.
Today they’d hear presentations on the latest technology in weapons. They’d be given an update on terror cells.
Today she’d listen with her cat’s keen hearing and sharpen her claws, preparing for the next assassination.
Tonight, as Zoe, she’d love her woman with all her heart.
Isabel spun around, her face sad.
Pain seared Zoe’s chest and she reached out and hugged Isabel. She couldn’t take hurting the most wonderful person in the world. “I’ll quit the drugs. Like you said, it’ll all work out once we’re together. I know it will. Tomorrow starts a new chapter when we go to the clinic and learn about the first step in our journey together as partners. We’ll tackle the issues day by day, together.”
“Really? No drugs? And you’re going to the clinic?”
“Yes. All that matters is your happiness.” Zoe breathed in her love’s sweet scent.
She rubbed her cheek against her beautiful woman’s soft red curls.
At that moment she didn’t care what was said. It felt so good to be close to her.
Maybe she shouldn’t try to break her addiction.
If she did, she might never leave Isabel’s arms.