“I love that you always put Abbie first. I love that you are probably the strongest person I’ve ever met. I love how persistent you are, how stubborn, how determined – and I love that all of those words somehow feel different when I use them to describe you. I love that you’re sweet and warm and sexy and that you can take anything that comes your way with grace, but if the same thing happens to someone you care about, then you’re ready to go to war.”

Caroline’s heart is absolutely pounding in her chest and she is so relieved to say it all.

“I want you and Abbie, every day. I want everything with you and that’s… a lot. I know,” she admits, the weight of it crushing. “I’m not asking for everything right now. I’m not asking for you to… to love me, to take a leap with me. I only want that when you’re ready. I’m just asking to know that you are really in this.”

God, she can barely even keep up with herself and she can tell by the wide, shocked eyes that Hannah isn’t doing much better.

“I’m asking to know that you trust me,” she finishes, and she wouldn’t have been able to really put the words to her worries until this moment. “Like, really trust me.” She feels like an idiot, but she brings her hand up and taps her finger over her chest. Over her heart. “Like, here.”

An idiot, she thinks again, waiting in that moment, her heart in her throat, for the answer.

But it’s true. She needs, more than anything, to know that Hannah trusts her, after this last year together.

Her heart is pounding and she waits. While Hannah stares and her hands are still caught in her hair, her mouth ajar. Like she’s been utterly shellshocked and Caroline wonders if this is really a surprise.

“I just need… a – minute,” Hannah manages and her voice is faint, hoarse.

Caroline’s breath leaves her in a rush, feeling hollow, and it hurts. That Hannah can’t just tell her yes, she trusts her, really fucking hurts. Her eyes sting and it doesn’t matter how much she blinks, the tears just don’t leave.

Her phone rings and it jars her out of the moment.

“It’s my dad,” her voice sounds like it’s not even coming from her own self, her throat tight. “I have to go to the airport.”

“Just. A minute,” Hannah repeats, teeth digging so hard into her lip, it turns white as she leans back against the shelves.

***

Being in New York City the week of Christmas may actually be Caroline’s nightmare come true.

Not only always, but especially right now.