Chapter Text
August 2020
Providence, Rhode Island
Beca was exhausted but fulfilled. Across the room of this restaurant—“The Slow Rhode” in Providence, a casual diner due to them agreeing that it didn’t have to be anything fancier—over the other patrons’ heads, she watched her wife return from the restrooms. Vivid blue eyes remaining on her as she made a beeline for their table.
Chloe’s face was glowing as if she had just applied a fresh layer of makeup, smiling back at Beca like nobody else existed but her.
This woman still had that special something that, after all their years of friendship since college, dating, and marriage, Beca’s breath would catch at the sight of her smile.
Upon their second encounter during Beca’s first year in college, Chloe had barged into Beca’s shower stall. (Yeah, Beca’s now-wife was a creepy weirdo, and Beca didn't know how to handle the situation, but she was grateful when Chloe did exactly that.) So, while in the shower and standing there stark naked, Chloe had told her—after a strange interaction and a duet of sorts—that she was “very confident about all this” and gestured down her gorgeous body.
And only THREE YEARS after secretly pining for each other and for Beca to realize her feelings, she ended her relationship with Jesse. And eventually, she and Chloe confessed their feelings for each other and left college as a couple.
Now, due to hormonal changes, Chloe was experiencing negative feelings regarding her postpartum body and the visible evidence of motherhood.
Although Beca believed her wife was still beautiful, Chloe relentlessly sought to improve her attractiveness in her wife’s eyes. Not that it was necessary, but every time she did this, Beca’s heart would race a little faster, and she’d give her an appreciative and somewhat sheepish smirk.
Not a single day had passed since then that she hadn’t reminded her of that fact—that Chloe was still and always will be beautiful no matter what because she was Beca’s one true love and the mother of their child.
It was a fantastic date night—the first date again since their daughter was born. They were still head over heels in love as they had been in college, and the evening felt like a throwback to their very first date.
“Babe,” Chloe said sweetly, kissing Beca’s cheek, “thanks for tonight. I had so much fun.”
“Yeah, about time, too. Next time, I swear , it’ll be a fancier date, like at Red Lobster or something.” Laughing nervously, Beca felt bad that they had only had burgers and fries for their anniversary dinner. Chloe deserved so much more…
“You know I don’t care about that stuff,” Chloe assured her, “as long as we have each other and enjoy ourselves.”
At least for Chloe’s sake, Beca could enjoy the evening and savor the moment they spent together while ignoring her work responsibilities for a few hours. However, as soon as they had left the restaurant, reality hit her with the force of a tropical cyclone, and she was back to square one.
Beca stared down the sidewalk, taking in the busy nightlife of Providence, and fought off the tension in her body to build and give her away. She hadn’t been getting enough sleep these past few days. And now, fatigue was catching up to her.
“You’ve been working too hard.” Chloe’s voice was chastising and worried. Of course, she’d noticed. “You should take it easy.”
“I know, Chlo.” With a sigh of exhaustion, Beca squeezed her wife’s hand to reassure her she was okay. That everything was fine. She didn’t have the energy to chew over this issue again—not tonight, at least. “I know…”
Closing her eyes and breathing evenly, the cool breeze helped Beca calm down.
She jumped at the sound of several cars honking in the distance and saw a sports car racing through before the light changed at the intersection. Pedestrians sprang back, muttering obscenities and letting out gasps as the car sped off in the opposite direction, leaving behind the muffled blare of rhythmic beats.
Beca felt a shiver run through her body as her wife draped her arm around her to pull her closer to her. Chloe glared after the vehicle with an angry frown.
“Ugh, what a reckless jerk,” she cursed under her breath.
“C’mon,” Beca urged, turning slowly to pull at her wife’s arm. She tried to fight off the intuitive feeling that something wasn’t right. “It’s getting cold. Let’s get back to the car.”
A part of her mind flatly refused to think about the mountain of work waiting at home, the concert event she had to prepare in less than a week, the completion of the mixing of the recorded tracks for said event, or the submission of a rough draft first thing in the morning. Since she had promised Chloe a special night at home—just the two of them. There was a part of her mind that was freaking out because she had to let her wife down again.
On their wedding anniversary, no less.
Beca tried to calm the mounting stress level she was experiencing by shaking off her worries. Chloe would understand.
“Bec, why don’t you call in sick tomorrow and try to get some rest?” Chloe suggested as they walked down the street to locate their car; her hand was firm and secure, like a safety belt. “I’ll take Cathy to the park; you get the place all to yourself. And, I don’t know, maybe in the afternoon, we can do something fun together as a family,” she added sweetly, tilting her head in contemplation to the side and considering their more pressing option. “Or… if I get Aubrey to babysit again, maybe I’ll get to finish painting the living room.”
Their best friend, Aubrey, watched their fifteen-month-old daughter, so the couple could go out together.
“I’m not sure, you should put yourself through too much stress and do strenuous things, Chlo,” Beca said, “I mean, you’re still breastfeeding.”
Chloe scoffed at that, then burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it. “Taking care of a toddler falls squarely on my shoulders, Bec, and I do everything around the house and run errands, too. Are those not strenuous things?”
A pang of guilt swept through Beca. Because Chloe always made sure everything was taken care of when she got home from work. Beca would then do leftover tasks, such as sterilizing bottles, breast pump parts, and pacifiers, preparing baby formula for the next day, and stocking up their baby supplies, if necessary. That was nothing compared to what Chloe had to shoulder from the start with their newborn baby until now.
It wasn’t easy adjusting to parenthood when Beca started her job as an Assistant Engineer at Oceanside Records, Inc., while their home was a single construction site. At the same time, her wife had gone through postpartum depression while caring for their colicky newborn baby.
However, they were blessed with fantastic friends: Stacie, whose baby was a month older and would sleep through the racket of another crying baby in the room, supported them. Aubrey and her husband, Chicago, came over often. The other girls, Beca’s and Chloe’s parents, all flew in—separately, of course—for a visit, making the small studio feel cramped at times. They all chipped in to get their renovation done faster. Now it was only one wall left unfinished because months ago, a very hormonal Chloe desired a new wall paint.
Their current home was a tad smaller than their last. At the beginning, they needed to find a new place to live that was suitable for their lifestyle when they had just graduated from college and were searching for jobs. So, they asked Stacie to room together.
They lived for two years in Maryland, where they shared a two-bedroom apartment with Stacie, who worked towards her master’s degree in marine engineering. That way, the couple, as well as Stacie, were able to save for their respective homes later while sharing all utility expenses and the rent. And well, during that same period Beca and Chloe had then tied the knot. Nothing fancy. They eloped because they were young and crazy in love. No reception, no ceremony.
After Stacie got her degree, they all moved to Rhode Island in their respective new homes. Stacie moved to Providence, living the life of a fresh graduate with a master’s degree, and landing a job as a naval engineer to put her engineering training to work and meet exciting people.
The married couple, Beca and Chloe, eventually found a small moved-in ready studio in North Kingstown, RI—their current home—also on the east coast. Luckily, with a separate room for Beca to set up her office.
Being together and not knowing what the future would bring, they went for a compact and easy studio to care for, which they believed might be the right step for their lifestyle as newlyweds. They both had a stable income while budgeting for a studio, so it was easier to consider their monthly living costs on top of the rent.
Until Beca and Chloe decided to have a baby.
Despite Beca’s father paying most of the hospital and medical bills and Chloe’s parents paying off their utility bills and rent, they still had student loans to pay off. Even with Beca and Chloe’s combined incomes, the cost of living was still high to dare to want something that falls outside of basic survival. Especially if they had a baby.
Beca had told Chloe that it was OK for her to bear the expenses as long as Chloe would be fine to stay with their baby, but Chloe wanted to go back to work as soon as they got a space in kindergarten, and Beca had not been entirely on board with this idea.
“And you could spend some quality time with your daughter,” Chloe elaborated on her idea, bringing Beca back to the present moment. “It would just be a day.”
“You know I can’t just call in sick if I need to get work done, Chlo,” Beca grumbled. “I can’t afford to lose this job. We need the money.”
Chloe sighed. “It’s about being there for our daughter. Not just for your job,” she accused Beca, releasing her hand as they stopped in front of their car. Beca looked for the keys to unlock the doors; she didn’t have the nerve to argue with her wife. “She should feel that her mom is there for her, too.”
Beca felt an internal jolt, a fresh twinge of guilt. Chloe was probably right. Maybe Beca had to work too hard to support their family, and as a result, she was rarely home and rarely got to spend time with their daughter. They desperately needed the cash, though. They couldn’t live off their parents for the rest of their lives and expected them to pay for everything. This wasn’t how things worked.
“I am there for her, Chloe. And I will always be there for her, and for you, this family, which is why I am doing this,” Beca told her wife firmly, that mounting stress level from earlier resurfacing and tensioning her entire body, making her feel a bit agitated. They reached their car, while Beca walked to the driver’s door. “I need to get my priorities straight, suck up to my boss and the clients, and avoid under-delivering.”
“What about disappointing your daughter?” Chloe threw in rather casually, as if their daughter came only second in Beca’s life.
“Chloe… We. Need. The. Fucking. Money!” The force of Beca’s exclamation caused her wife to flinch, making Beca realize she was projecting her anger and stress on the wrong person. After all, struggling financially at the moment wasn’t Chloe’s fault.
Breathing slowly through her nose, Beca said calmer, “Fuck! I'm sorry, babe.” She walked around the car and took her wife into her arms. She rested her forehead against Chloe’s. “I don’t know where that came from. Look, I’m stressed out. I have to catch up on so much work, but please, you have to understand. I’m trying hard to be a good mother and a good wife, but I need your support, too.”
Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca’s waist. “I’m sorry, too. You are a good mother and a good wife,” she reassured her. "And you can still tuck her in when you come home or sing her favorite lullaby to her. Like you usually do.” She dropped her gaze, smiling.
“Don’t apologize. Look, it won’t be like this forever. You’ll see. Just hold on a little longer until we get that mansion on an island that you always dreamed of.” With a chuckle, Beca reasoned it couldn’t hurt to indulge in a little dreaming.
“Mansion on an island, huh?” Chloe giggled, playing along. “And do I get to eat Red Lobster at my own pool?”
“Of course, every day until you get fat, my love!”
Chloe smacked her while laughing. And they shared a sweet, passionate kiss. “I love you, Beca.”
“I love you more. Let’s go home quickly, and I'll prove to you just how much I do,” she added coyly and gestured for her wife to get in their car. “There is still an hour until before we need to pick up the little princess.”
Chloe’s phone rang, and the screen displayed Aubrey’s incoming video call. Slightly anxious about the call since Aubrey wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency, Chloe swiped right to pick up the video call.
“Bree, what’s wrong?” Chloe asked. Beca stepped closer to see the screen her wife held up for them.
They heard their daughter throwing a fit nearby Aubrey's lap. "No! No! Ah-Bweeeeh! Miiiine!"
“Guys, I got everything under control,” Aubrey said through the cacophony of screams, while something was jerking at her arm; the noise of their girl stubbornly screeching and her squeaky rambling when she didn't get what she wanted. “But someone wanted to say hi and refused to sleep!”
"Miiine!" Cathy demanded. "Mine, Ah-Bweeeeh!"
“Aubrey, is Cathy still awake?” Beca asked and turned the display toward her. Chloe wrapped an arm around Beca’s waist to calm her down.
“Yes, she woke up thirty minutes ago and didn’t stop crying. She’s calmed down, though,” Aubrey assured them despite the audible screech in the background, and held the display down for the couple to see their fifteen-month-old toddler. Aubrey picked Cathy up to sit her on her lap, as the girl looked curiously at the phone. Her cherub face reddened from her crying, and her bright blue eyes were huge and glimmered with excitement when she recognized her mothers. “You tell your moms goodnight. Then it’s time for bed again, okay?”
“Ma-mi!” the toddler squealed and grabbed for the phone, opening her mouth to try to eat the phone. “Mama there! Mine!”
"Are you sure you can handle?" Chloe asked, concerned. "We can come and pick her up."
"She's only being stubborn!" Aubrey sighed.
“Here’s her bottle, honey,” came from beside Aubrey. It was her husband—Chicago—who held up a baby bottle to her. He waved at Beca and Chloe, greeting them, and looking exhausted as he yawned and then disappeared again from view.
“Cathy baby, mama and I will be back soon,” Chloe said affectionately, smiling at their daughter, “you listen to Aunt Bree and Uncle Go, and go to sleep, okay?”
The toddler squealed happily, smacking at the phone as if trying to grab for her mother. "Ah-Bwee! Mine! Da-ba!" Cathy squealed and tried reaching for her bottle. Aubrey gave her the bottle, which Cathy began suckling while staring at the screen, looking content.
“Goodnight, sweet girl,” Beca said strictly, as Cathy ought to be sleeping now, “be good. Mommy and I won’t be long. But you should be in bed!”
“You guys take your time. But I think she only woke up to tell you goodnight. Or she got hungry again,” Aubrey said as she held the phone away from Cathy’s grasp. “I’ll read her her favorite bedtime story and tuck her in.”
Cathy giggled, looking in awe when she saw her mother through the phone. She hopped on Aubrey’s lap excitedly, reaching for the phone again, the other hand clutching her bottle.
“Goodnight, sweet angel,” Chloe said, waving at the screen and blowing kisses, “I love you, see you later. Mwah! ”
Pulling the bottle from her mouth, Cathy mimicked her mother and blew kisses—a recently learned gesture. “Mwah!”
Beca laughed and made kissy sounds at her daughter, waving.
“Bye, guys, enjoy your night.” Aubrey gave Cathy a smooch on the crown of her red curls before she disconnected the video call.
They drove home down the interstate, Chloe grinning broadly and her cheeks flushed as she stared out the window, her hand on Beca’s.
“I can text Aubrey that we’ll be a little late,” Chloe suggested cheekily, squeezing Beca’s hand. “So, we won’t need to rush and can take our time.”
“Yeah, I know, babe, I get it,” Beca groaned at implication and clutched the steering wheel, “our sex life has been neglected lately and us always being exhausted that we tend to… rush … things.”
“I’m not complaining at all,” Chloe said, but Beca could tell there was more her wife didn’t fully tell her, maybe to avoid getting into another fight again. “I’m happy and content about what we can get. And it’s not easy at the moment. Sure, it was easier before.”
“What do you mean… before?” Beca asked warily. She checked the rearview mirror and set the turn signal to surpass another vehicle.
“Before, when it was just us,” Chloe proceeded with a sigh. “I mean, I love our little family. I just didn’t realize that we’d get less quality time together as a married couple. I love Cathy to bits, but I sometimes wish we’d have more time together, just you and me.”
“We can always ask Aubrey or Stacie to babysit,” Beca suggested. “And Aubrey’s, after all, Cathy’s godmother. And Stacie loves having two babies because she’s that crazy.”
“Yeah, but even then,” Chloe went on, sighing, “it’s always about us being parents and our obligations as parents. Was just thinking of ending maternity leave sooner…”
“So, this all comes down to the same issue again,” Beca grunted and didn’t realize she was driving faster than was allowed. “You’re staying home with our daughter, Chlo. She needs you. I can take care of us. You take all of the maternity leave you can get and be there for our daughter. I don't want Cathy to go to kindergarten at fifteen months and be raised by strangers.”
“They won’t be strangers. It’s their job to take care of children,” Chloe retorted. She looked out the window and fiddled with her wedding ring. It was a habit she had whenever she was nervous. “I just thought it would help get the pressure off you. I’d get my full income as a vet. And I’ll paint the rest of the living room; it’ll help me feel more productive that way. And pay off our debts.”
“Chlo, no, please,” Beca insisted.
“So, I don’t get a say in this?” Chloe snapped. “Why am I even surprised?”
“Wha–What’s that supposed to mean? We agreed you stay at home with the baby until she was at least two.”
“But I didn’t expect we’d be struggling financially.”
“So, maybe I’m not a good provider,” Beca snorted sarcastically and felt tears sting in her eyes. “Because we’re in this situation.”
“Beca… no, that’s not what I meant, silly,” Chloe sighed, taking Beca’s hand into hers. “I just wanted to help.”
Beca turned to look at her, smiling, “You’re already helping me by being there for Cathy. Let me take care of the rest…”
“Promise me?”
Beca turned her gaze off the road. To look into her wife’s expectant eyes. A wide grin formed on her lips as she said firmly, “I promise….”
A bright flash of light came moving in their direction, accompanied by a deafening honking that rang in Beca’s ears. It wasn’t until Beca looked ahead that the truck was barreling down their lane.
The next thing she knew, she was hitting her head and having all the breath knocked out of her lungs. Chloe's hand slid through hers, and the passenger seat on the smashed and shredded side of the vehicle was abruptly empty. The blunt force of the collision yanked the passenger out of the vehicle entirely.
Above all else, Chloe was no longer there.
The vehicle flipped across the road before coming to rest on its roof. Beca felt a trickle of liquid on her head. She felt her whole body burning and in pain.
Where was her wife?
“Chl…” Her tongue had a metallic taste. When Beca cocked her head to speak, all that came out was a gurgling sound. A gaping hole where the passenger seat had been.
Chloe was gone.
*
Rhode Island Hospital
Providence, Rhode Island
The first thing Beca noticed when she came to, hours or perhaps only a short moment later—she couldn’t tell—was the white, unfamiliar ceiling above her head. Her body pained all over but was limp at the same time, and she felt thoroughly disoriented. In tandem with her heart’s uneven beating, there was a beeping noise in her ears, resonating in the room where she was seemingly staying. From her peripheral view, she realized she was hooked to an ICU monitor that indicated her vital signs. A collar restrained her neck, and tubes protruded from her nostrils. As her breathing sped up, the beeping increased as a result, alarming someone who rushed to her side and brushed her hand gently.
“Francis,” the person said softly over Beca’s head to another figure across the room, “Beca’s awake.”
Frightened and traumatized, Beca felt relief to see her dad with her stepmother, Sheila. He shook all over, maybe uncertain where he could put his hand, given that Beca was in a physically fragile state. Unkempt and with circles under his puffy eyes, he looked like he hadn’t showered in days. Sheila comforted him by putting her hand on his shoulder while looking down at Beca with a sorrowful smile.
“Beca, I thought I’d lost you!” Francis said, his voice breaking. For a man whom Beca had spent years condemning for abandoning her and her mother when she was a child, a man who had been strong and egoistic enough to turn his back on her, he looked like a mess with tears in his eyes and being in a state of emotional distress. “Thank God! Thank God you’re alive.” He kissed her forehead tenderly, the only spot that didn’t hurt her. She returned a smile in appreciation.
She attempted to open her mouth to speak, to ask questions, but the brackets in her mouth and her collar restrained any movement.
“Your mother’s on her way,” Francis said soothingly, “her flight’s been delayed.”
Feeling slightly frantic because she needed her questions answered and unable to speak, Beca tapped her ring finger on the mattress that carried her wedding band.
Dad, where is Chloe? Where is she?
“Francis, I think Beca’s asking about Chloe…” A soft, uncertain voice speculated from behind Beca’s father. Sheila was the one who noticed the movement, so she stepped closer to the bed, and Beca tried to nod, to blink, to confirm this speculation. “Beca, we have no news about Chloe. We’re sorry. Her parents are informed. They’re in the waiting area.”
Again, Beca moved her eyes frantically around to find something that would lead Sheila to answer about her daughter’s whereabouts. Beca felt another brush over the back of her hand.
“Cathy is fine,” Sheila said, reassuringly nodding. “Aubrey is taking care of her, so don’t worry. Your friend and her husband were here a few hours ago to check on you. But your condition seemed unchanged. And she also checked on Chloe’s parents. We have no news yet.”
Beca wanted to scream from the top of her lungs, but her jaw refused to move. It felt locked, and attempting even the slightest movement caused her excruciating pain to spread through her head. Her arms were immobilized in casts, limiting her range of motion. She was even unable to move or kick her legs. It felt like being trapped in her own body; she might as well have been buried alive.
Then the door to this room opened, and a woman walked in. “Mrs. Mitchell-Beale?” the voice said gently while Francis and Sheila stepped aside. The antiseptic air filled Beca’s nostrils and the plain, sterile surrounding, leading her to believe that she was resting on a hospital bed. The woman wore a light blue Kasack like those worn by Chloe’s assistants at the vet clinic where she worked; Chloe, in contrast, had a white doctor’s coat. Where the fuck is Chloe? With questioning eyes, Beca tried to ask the nurse who may have the answer to this question. She looked from her father to Sheila and begged them with beseeching eyes to ask on her behalf. But neither caught her plea, as Francis was currently a worthless jumble while Sheila kept a close eye on him to ensure he didn't have a nervous breakdown. He refused to let go of his daughter’s hand. “The doctor will be here soon,” the nurse informed them. She turned to Beca after checking the monitors, saying, “Are you experiencing any pain?”
Beca couldn’t move her head to shake it while the ICU monitor’s beeping increased further with the level of her panic attack.
“Blink once for yes, twice for no, Mrs. Mitchell-Beale,” this woman instructed her, encouraging her. She held a tablet in her hands, typing and entering every movement or reaction Beca made. Beca blinked once. “Okay. I know you must be frightened right now. The doctor will be here soon,” she repeated reassuringly.
“Will she be okay?” Francis asked after he collected himself.
“The doctor will do everything to help her, Dr. Mitchell,” the woman told Francis.
After waiting for a few more minutes that stretched on forever, a man looking to be in his fifties, with graying hair, of Asian ethnicity, walked in and walked up to Beca’s bed—this time, wearing a doctor’s coat—similar to Chloe’s, her beautiful wife. Where is she? Why isn’t she here? What even happened… ?
“Mrs. Mitchell-Beale, I’m Dr. Han-Lee,” the doctor introduced himself, calm and patient, “you’ve been in a coma for three days. You and your wife have been in a car accident. I’ve already informed your wife’s parents about the news.”
So, where’s Chloe? He’s the doctor, so he’ll tell her now where she is. So that her bed can be moved to her wife’s room… Maybe she’s staying in another department, in the ER perhaps, due to the severity of her injuries, Beca hoped. Still, images of the car crash, of Chloe being torn from her grasp at the moment of impact, flooded her consciousness. Images that would forever be seared in her mind. No, no… that didn’t happen… How long would the procedure take that would keep her wife in the emergency room after Beca had been in a coma for three days? Chloe must be in a different ward, possibly going through the same anxieties as Beca and wondering if anyone has heard from her. Beca needed to tell her she was fine.
She felt tears shoot in her eyes, spilling the sides of her face.
“Mrs. Mitchell-Beale,” Dr. Han-Lee proceeded as he pushed his glasses up his nose; his eyes were dark and sympathetic. Before the doctor revealed the news that would change her life, Beca knew something was wrong. “Unfortunately, despite our best efforts, your wife did not make it. I’m sorry. We could not save her.”
There was a commotion of murmurs and gasps, the frantic beeping from the ICU grew faster, and someone squeezed her numb hand.
Her own voice, though, was muted.