“Our lives are definitely different now,” Nat replies. “I mean, we have grandkids. It still blows my mind whenever I think about it. But our relationship, itself? Not really.”

Keiko nods. “We’ve both changed plenty throughout the decades, and we keep experiencing new things every year. But our love has remained constant, the anchor that has gotten us through all of life’s challenges.”

Nat nods. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Is that why Celeste has felt so unmoored all her life, going from parents who never fully accepted her to countless different lovers, some of whose faces and names she’s already forgotten? Her vision blurs, and she slowly exhales.

Finally, Gemma asks the question she’s asked every couple, the final question of this entire project. “How do you define love?”

Celeste braces herself.

“Breathing,” Keiko says, looking into Nat’s eyes.

“Living,” Nat replies. “I can’t imagine life without my wife.”

Keiko and Nat stare lovingly at each other, and Celeste can’t take it anymore. She sets her camera down on the table beside her.

Gemma shoots her a concerned look. “Celeste?” she says. “Are you okay?”

Unable to verbalize the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings inside her head, Celeste meets Gemma’s gaze and backs away.

For the first time in years, the future she wants for herself is so clear. So obvious, to the point of being right in front of her very eyes.

She wants to spend the rest of her life with Gemma. She wants to marry her and have kids with her and grow old with her, laughing and crying together for decades on end like the two women sitting on the couch. Even the slightest possibility of not being able to have that future becomes an unbearable weight.

“Sorry,” she says to no one and to everyone. “I have to go.”

Then, before anyone can stop her, Celeste bolts out of the studio.

35: Gemma

After apologizing and saying goodbye to a startled and confused Keiko and Nat, I set off to find Celeste. It takes me a while, but I eventually find her in the restroom of a nearby bar, thanks to a server who saw her run full speed past him.

At first, I’m confused as to why Celeste ran in here out of all places. But then, over the deafeningly loud music being blasted from the speakers, I hear the faintest sob.

My chest aches. She must have come here in the hopes that the music would drown out the sound of her crying.

“Celeste?” I say, practically yelling to be heard over the screaming guitars.

I knock on the stall door as gently as I can.