It was in the early hours of the morning that Samantha finally gave up on trying to sleep and made her way back to the house. It was noticeably empty when she arrived, as though the place itself were radiating loneliness. And God, was it a mess. She didn’t recall it having been this much of a mess when she’d left, though maybe she was just trying to view the memory through rose-tinted glasses.
As she went about cleaning up, she at first felt sure that Juliette had simply done the same thing she had and that her wife would be back within a few hours. Yet as the time began to tick by - it was nearly one in the afternoon by the time everything had been put back together - she grew more and more worried. What if she was still upset? This shouldn’t end their relationship permanently. All couples fought. Didn’t they?
She tried calling Juliette’s ‘tool from the house line, though there was no response, as there hadn’t been for the past half a day. Hoping it would calm her worries, she next attempted a bit of a nap, yet every sound made her jerk awake in anticipation of it being the shuttle docking. Finally, near ten in the evening, she heard her wife enter and made her way to the rear entrance of the house.
“Jul, I - ” Her eyes landed on the unfamiliar sweater the other woman was wearing, and she felt a mixture of cold horror and shock shoot through her. “Where did you get that?”
Juliette woke with a start, her sides heaving as she fought to gain an idea of where she was. Looking around, she slowly began to relax as she realized she was still in the same field as last night, and she had simply drifted to sleep. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, and she checked her omni-tool, frowning when she noticed that she had eleven missed calls.
Sighing she scrambled towards the shuttle, goosebumps rising along her arms as a sharp breeze brushed across her skin. Shivering she tried to rub some warmth into her arms and poked her head into the shuttle to see if there was a coat or something. Her eyes landed on a box of clothing that her grandmother had given her and she eagerly pulled it out of the shuttle and started rifling through it.
She found a sweater buried close to the bottom and she gratefully pulled it out and held it up in the dying sunlight. It was one of her father’s old sweaters. Pulling the material close she inhaled the familiar cologne he had worn, a smile spreading across her face as memories of her father flashed across her mind. Pulling the sweater on, he pressed a hand to her stomach, and felt herself relax.
It was time to go home.
She pushed the box back into the shuttle and slid in behind it. Turning the keys, she brought the shuttle to life and reached up to close the shuttle door. She passed by a restaurant, and her stomach growled hungrily, demanding food.
By the time she finally managed to reach the house it was close to ten. Stepping out of the shuttle she looked up at the house, and swallowed. Sam was definitely not going to be happy. Unless she’s not home yet. Juliette held onto the brief hope that her wife wasn’t home, and hadn’t noticed her absence. However, when she made her way into the kitchen and she heard Sam’s voice she knew she was screwed.
Turning around to look at Samantha she opened her mouth to apologize. But the woman’s harsh question about her sweater made her stop. Looking down at the faded blue fabric she frowned. "It was my father’s. He sued to wear it a lot around the house.