Page 72 of Make Room for Love

Under the covers, with Isabel softly snoring, Mira’s mind was still racing. She was so physically tired. But she couldn’t sleep.

They’d had a fight and gotten through it. For now. Just like any couple. And theywerea couple, as much as Mira had avoided thinking about the word. In those idyllic days when everything had been good and easy, their lives had become intertwined. If Mira had to leave, she’d have to rip out and leave a part of herself behind.

Maybe it had always been a mistake to think they could be casual with each other.

That night at the club, Mira had plunged into that wild, reckless, wonderful kiss while still half in denial about what she was doing. Now, once more, she’d gotten herself in too deep. And now she had to face what she’d done, just like on that cold night, walking alone by the river as Isabel waited for her.

They’d had a couples’ fight, the kind of fight between people who mattered to each other, who had a shared past and present and maybe a future. It was the kind of fight that didn’t end in a single night. Mira was in for more of this—if she stayed.

The more intertwined their lives were, the more it mattered whether she had a way to get out on her own. They needed to win this election. She didn’t want to imagine what would happen if they didn’t.

32

“Looks good,”Isabel called down to her new apprentice Carla. “Nice work.”

Isabel was worn down. Just four weekends of working overtime had made her knee pain return with a vengeance. There were good days and bad days, and today was a bad one. This late-winter cold snap was stiffening her joints and making her hobble, and she hadn’t been able to walk it off.

It would be over soon. Mira’s union election was in two days. Win or lose, she’d have more time for Isabel, but Isabel hoped as desperately as she’d ever hoped for anything that the union would win. Maybe Mira would feel safer, then. Maybe they could be close again, without this distance between them that kept growing by the day.

Asking anything of Mira seemed out of reach. Whenever Isabel considered asking for more time together, more promises, she was sickened by the fear that Mira might not feel free to say no. And she hated feeling like a burden, like someone who needed Mira more than Mira needed her.

Over the last two years, she’d pushed everyone away, and now she had nothing left but work. That had never been more painfully obvious. But work wasn’t so bad. She could look at herinstallations with pride, and she could teach Carla something. She knew how to be useful at work.

Still lost in her thoughts, she took a step back down the ladder. The pain in her knee flared.

A stab of panic, a split-second of useless flailing, and then she was tumbling from six feet off the ground. Her foot smashed into the floor at the wrong angle, and the sharp, throbbing pain in her ankle took over. Even her work boots hadn’t saved her.

Carla rushed over. “Oh, shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Isabel tried to stand. A stab of pain forced her back down.

She was setting a bad example for Carla. “Maybe not,” Isabel said, gritting her teeth. “I think there’s something wrong with my ankle.”

When Mira walkedthrough the door, after a grueling day of teaching and phone-banking, Isabel was laid up on the couch with a foot brace. “Oh my god,” Mira said, dropping her messenger bag. “What happened? Did you break your foot?”

“I sprained my ankle at work.” Isabel looked more embarrassed than pained.

Mira rushed over. “And you didn’t tell me?” Isabel hadn’t so much as texted her.

Isabel flinched at her approach, which hurt to see. “I went to urgent care and they said I was fine to go home. I didn’t want to make you worried. You’ve been busy.”

“Obviously that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell me if you get hurt,” Mira said, boggled. Was she missing something? She sat down next to Isabel. “What happened?”

Isabel grimaced. “I fell off a step ladder. Dumb mistake. It wasn’t that high up.”

Her glibness was worrying. “Is there anything I can do for you? Is it just the ankle?”

“It’s just the ankle.” Isabel’s posture softened, her defenses lowering. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I’m just embarrassed.”

“For being injured?”

Isabel looked sheepish. “I should have been more careful. Now I can’t work for two weeks.”

Mira winced. “Oh, Isabel. Please don’t blame yourself for this. Will you be okay pay- and insurance-wise?”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem. I have good benefits.” Isabel let out a sigh, tormented by whatever was locked up in her head. “This is going to be the longest amount of time I’ve taken off work in years.”

“Really?” It wasn’t the most surprising news in the world, but it was disturbing. “Well, maybe you don’t want to hear this. But it could be nice to rest for a while, like you’re always telling me to do. And you need to, or else your ankle won’t heal.”

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