She was there when Sarah woke up in the middle of the night, sitting at the foot of the bed.
“What are you doing back here, Sarah?”
Sarah ran a palm across her eyes, blinked into the darkness. That’s right, she’d come stumbling back to Beth’s apartment. It had seemed like a good idea when she was God-knows-how-many drinks in.
“Didn’t know where else to go,” she groaned. “I missed you, didn’t I?”
“You never knew me,” Beth said flatly. “You miss the idea of me.”
“Maybe,” Sarah conceded. “But I understand you now. How you could try and try and it was never enough.”
She threw a hand over her eyes and finally let herself cry.
“I keep fuckin’ up,” she choked.
After a second, she felt Beth’s hand pressing gently against hers.
Wait. Beth’s hand.
Sarah jumped up to sitting, rubbed at her eyes. She could just barely make her out through the dark, but… she could feel the weight of her on the bed. She reached out and gasped as she made contact with Beth’s shoulder.
“Beth,” she whimpered. “I thought you were dead.”
“I am dead, Sarah. Doesn’t mean I could just leave.”
Sarah gripped Beth’s shoulder, terrified that she’d disappear if she let go. Her face was visible now, Sarah could see her looking back. She was so sad.
Sarah pulled her closer and kissed her. She tasted like nothing, nothing at all. But it was enough.