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“Okay.” Halle noted Lydia’s hands went straight to her stomach. Happy that Lydia wouldn’t disappear back upstairs, Halle slipped out to the garage. She’d been preparing for this. At some point, Halle knew Lydia would have an epiphany that Halle would be better with someone else. She hadn’t seen the open marriage angle coming.
Reaching to the top shelf, Halle brought down the glass Mason jar she’d been hiding. Taking the decorated notepad, she jotted down her thoughts and popped it in the jar. Okay, here goes!
“So, I want you to know, I heard you about the open marriage idea. But I’m going to decline.”
“Halle, I’m not—”
“Can I talk? Please.”
Lydia nodded, wiping a tear from under her eye. Settling next to her wife, Halle placed the Mason jar on the coffee table. “What’s that?” Lydia’s voice was husky and raw. Halle hated the fact she’d got herself into such a state.
“This is for you. Will you open it?”
Looking unsure, Lydia regarded Halle, and then the jar, for several seconds. Eventually, curiosity won out. “Perfectly imperfect, broken parts included!” she mumbled, reading the label on the jar.
“You always tell me you are flawed and broken, Lyds. Every time I tell you, you’re perfect to me, that’s your answer. So, I made you this.”
“What is it?”
“Take a look.”
With a shaky hand, Lydia grasped the lid on the jar and unscrewed it. Pulling out the first piece of paper her fingers touched, she gently unfolded it and read. Tears sprung unshed. Dropping the paper, she reached for another, then another.
“Halle,” she breathed through a sob.
“This is the latest one.” Halle slipped the note she’d written in the garage into Lydia’s hand.
You tell me your belly is fat. That you’re the size of a whale. I’m telling you it’s perfect. Your so-called imperfect tummy is holding our children, keeping them safe and warm until they are ready to come into the world.
“I’ll have ugly stretch marks,” Lydia sob chuckled as she gripped the note.
“And I’ll remind you, those marks you see as another flaw are a reminder of the wonderful thing you did. The lives you created and housed.”
“Oh Halle, I’m sorry.”
“Sooo, the open marriage is off the table, yeah?” It was safe to joke now. The storm had passed. Lydia’s eyes were clearer.
“I’ll kick your arse if you go near another woman.”
“Thought as much,” Halle laughed, taking Lydia into her arms.
“When did you do all this?” Lydia asked, picking up the discarded notes, putting them back in the jar.
“I started six months ago when you were really struggling emotionally. I knew it was baby hormones, but that didn’t take away from the fact you saw, or should I say, see yourself in such a negative light. I wanted you to know for every imperfection you see, I witness the opposite.”
“Like my laugh lines,” Lydia smiled, holding up a note.
“Exactly. You see wrinkled eyes. I see memories of all our fun together. You have a wonderful laugh, and I love it when it reaches your eyes.”
“And my hips?” Lydia caressed the note gently.
“Those are my favourite! You see ‘Muffin Tops,’” Halle rolled her eyes playfully. “I see womanly curves that are so sexy I can hardly speak when I see you naked.”
“Oh, you big charmer.” Lydia nuzzled into Halle’s neck, laughing through a hiccup.
“Only for you, honey.”
* * *
