Chapter Text
Torture.
That’s what this is.
Pure torture.
Carla knows this might be the end of her.
She might be the end of her.
Because there she is, at the bar. Looking fucking incredible.
Detective Sergeant Lisa Swain.
Her blonde, shiny as hell hair, dangling loose as she throws her head back and laughs at some joke Shona makes. It's probably not even that funny.
Not that she’s jealous or owt...
But that laugh, god that laugh, just the sound could cure even Eeyore’s depression. Carla misses it, she misses causing it.
Her white sheer top over a white vest glow under the club lighting; it drives Carla absolutely wild. The rare sight of Lisa’s arms, shoulders, and collarbones, visible beneath the material. Teasing her, tempting her.
Torture.
She hates her.
(Because she loves her.)
It’s crowded, hot, and sweaty.
The music is pumping. The strobe lights are flashing, and the ground is uncomfortably sticky.
“You're staring, again.” Michelle says, sidling up to Carla and handing her a G&T.
“Shut up.” Carla grumbles, taking the drink.
It’s not like she needs it pointed out. She knows she is. But she can’t stop.
“Can we go someone else, Chelle.” She complains to her oldest friend, as she takes a sip of her drink.
“No, it’s my birthday and I wanted to come here and dance.”
More like dancing on Carla’s grave.
“Come on,” Michelle whines. “Come and let your hair down.” She bumps her hip playfully against Carla’s.
“Not in the mood.”
“So, you’re going to stand in the shadows like a creep.” The brunette teases.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Carla says not taking her eyes off the blonde at the bar.
Michelle rolls her eyes and joins Dee-Dee, Sarah and Tracy on the dance floor as they giggle, twirl, and drink.
Carla’s too busy to notice though, because she’s waiting for something.
She knows it’s coming.
She knows it will happen; it always does.
And it will hurt like hell.
Hurt them both.
But she wants it.
No, she needs it.
And then just like that, just for a split second, it happens.
Lisa’s green eyes, big and vibrant, meet her own from across the room and just for a second her stomach flips, her heart leaps and her breath hitches. It’s an addictive feeling. For that fleeting moment, as their eyes lock, she gets to experience the feeling of being in their own little world again. Just the two of them.
But just as quickly those mesmerizing eyes dart away.
And it almost rips Carla in half.
She regrets wanting it.
She knows it's her fault. She only has herself to blame.
But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
She downs her drink, slams it harder than she meant to on the table beside her, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and heads out into the cool April night. She wraps her leather jacket tightly around herself and takes a minute to breathe, leaning against the brick wall of the club.
It’s moments like these she wishes she didn’t give up smoking.
“Hi, Carla!” A voice calls as they walk up to her about to enter the club. “Not leaving yet, are you?”
Leanne Battersby.
Her friend for nearly 20 years - caring, gives good advice but Carla’s never quite trusted her enough to fully let her in. Not like she does with Michelle.
She’s sporting a red, knitted top and a cute black skirt, she looks adorable and even though she’s not at best-friend status, Cara is happy to see her... even if her heart feels like it has just been the champagne bottle being smashed against HMS Swain.
“Yeah, I’m going to head off, tell ‘Chelle, will ya.”
Leanne shakes her head disapprovingly. “Come on! One more drink” She nudges her elbow into Carla’s side. “I’m here now so the parties just getting started.”
Party starter isn’t how Carla would describe her, more like giggling lightweight and bad dancer.
Carla smirks.
“Come onnn.” Leanne whines impatiently, grabbing Carla by the wrist and pulling her back inside the club.
Carla's eyes scan the bar; there’s no sign of Lisa.
It's safe.
She follows her persistent friend to the bar to get their drinks.
Leanne orders them both a double vodka each.
Leanne's definitely going to be poorly tomorrow.
Carla feels the dread circling around her the longer she stays. It looms, hovering over her like a rain cloud filled with all the mistakes of her past.
She needs to go, she can’t be here. Sure, it’s nice to be surrounded by mates and celebrating Michelle but not when part of that means being trapped in a room with Lisa Swain.
She spots the detective on the dance floor. Carla ignores how sexy she looks. She’s pissed as a nit, Carla registers it immediately. She’s so loose in her movements, so free with her laugh, so lost in the music. Like the impossible weight of the world has been lifted, which only ever happens when Lisa is completely wasted.
Carla’s heart tugs at the sight of her. Lisa - happy and carefree is something she wants to savour forever and yet also wishes she could forget completely, forget her completely.
Because Carla knows Lisa does carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Sober Lisa takes on everything and everyone’s everything.
That’s part of the reason Carla fell in love with her. She may be small, but her heart is mighty. She knows it takes a toll on the blonde, she knows it crushes her, that she drowns beneath the pressure and yet everyday she pretends she’s fine. That tiny blonde detective pretends she can handle anything that life throws at her.
Carla sees it; she sees her.
She thinks it's the bravest, most admirable thing she’ll ever witness and quite possibly the saddest.
She shakes her head willing herself to stop watching, to stop caring.
She focuses her attention on Leanne, whos’ leaning against the bar, waffling on about something to do with her husband Nick and the Bistro they own. She hasn't seemed to notice that Carla hasn’t heard a bloody word she’s said. Carla's downing her drink as quickly as she can so she can leave. She only promised Leanne she’d stay for one.
She sits her glass on the bar about to sneak off into the night, when she feels her skin prickle under her jacket. Before she even realises, she's turning to find the source.
It’s her .
Fuck.
Lisa shifts slightly realising her arm’s brushing Carla's back, due to the lack of space from the crowded bar.
“Sorry.” is all the blonde says.
Carla stares at her for a moment too long, says nothing and turns back to Leanne, who’s watching the entire exchange quizzically.
“What happened between you two?” She yells over the noise of the club causing both Lisa and Carla to look at her.
One drink, one drink was all it took for Leanne Bloody Battersby to open her big, nosy trap and put her foot in it.
“You both used to be close and now you barely speak.”
Please for the love of all things good, shut the fuck up. Please, please, please.
Carla wills her to stop with a glare, but it only seems to spur her on more.
“In fact, you two used to do everything together and now you’d barely know you even knew each other.” Leanne’s eyes dart curiously between the two women in front of her. “Did you have a row?”
Carla cringes internally.
She wishes she was the Wicked Witch of the West so she could get the bartender to spray her with the soda water hose and melt away.
Carla chances a glance at Lisa who’s been handed another drink and is just staring into her glass pretending the two cubes of bobbing ice are the most interesting things in the world right now.
But Carla sees through her, sees into her.
Hurt and embarrassment are written all over her face. It pains Carla to know she's responsible for it.
But it's for the best. There’s no other way.
Carla shrugs nonchalantly “I guess sometimes people just drift apart.”
It’s cold, ruthless even.
Carla knows it; Lisa does too.
She doesn't even need to look to know Lisa has up and left the bar. She feels the loss immediately.
And she hates herself for it.
“I’m going to go.” Carla says to Leanne, who just nods dumbfounded, like she’s just watched the most confusing interaction of her life.
And maybe she has.
Carla gets out of her taxi at the door that leads to Michelle and Steve’s flat above the Street Cars taxi firm. There’s someone leaning against it, sipping a coffee and Carla’s about to tell them to scram when she recognises that familiar, gorgeous face.
Maria Sutherland.
Her wavy brown hair looks longer than the last time Carla saw her. those eyes (that she used to stare into wondering if they were more blue or more green) watching her nervously. That warm smile that used to feel like home, greeting Carla as she hesitantly walked up to the loitering woman.
“Hi.” Maria shifts awkwardly on her feet.
“Hiya.” Carla says, coming to stand in front of her, curiously. “What are you doing here?”
Because really, what the fuck is she doing here? Carla’s heart is pounding.
Maria huffs and brings her free hand to rub against her forehead embarrassedly. “I’m just in town visiting and Roy told me you moved into Michelle and Steve’s flat.”
“Yeah,” Carla draws out. She’s going to have a chat with her dear friend Roy. He’s the sweetest, caring, wisest old soul she’s ever known, but he really doesn’t seem to understand that sometimes not everyone needs his point-blank honesty.
Couldn’t he have told Maria she was happily living in a mansion in London or somewhere, living her best life and not at all thinking about her ex-girlfriend standing before her. Maybe running her knicker factory, Underworld, from abroad... Greece or Spain or somewhere. Sally Metcalfe, her dedicated and eager to please, factory worker, would have a field day with that. All the responsibility she’d get to take on.
Instead, he’s gone and told her the tragic truth, that she’s living in a pokey little flat with her best friend and her best-friends husband because she was too broken to live on her own after Maria left.
“I’m sorry he told me as he was closing Roy’s Rolls. He said you were going out tonight for ‘Chelle’s birthday but you weren’t going to make it a late one.”
Might as well have written a biographical tell all and gave it to her.
“How long have you been waiting?” Carla checks her phone. It's 10pm.
“Only half an hour, i know, it’s tragic really.”
She’s not the tragic one.
“Do I need a restraining order?” Carla quips but she is also quite serious. Why is Maria standing outside her home, late at night waiting for her to come home?
She laughs nervously. “Probably.” She runs a hand through her hair for something to do. “Look. I didn’t know how else to see you, I know you wouldn’t have answered if I called, but I just wanted to talk to you. In person.”
Carla stares at her. It’s been over a year, she’s heard nothing from her ex, suddenly she’s waiting at her doorstep, begging to talk to her. Carla’s legs feel shaky. “Why?”
“I miss you.”
A year ago, Carla would have jumped into her arms, no hesitation. She would have kissed her against the door and begged the woman in front of her to take her back.
Things were different now; she was different.
She was colder, harder and the thought of a relationship was not something she could do again. She was done. Love is pain, it isn’t worth it.
Especially with Maria.
She had broken up with Carla under the guise of wanting different things.
The truth was though, she not only wanted different things, she wanted a different version of Carla. Something Carla bent over backwards trying to be but ultimately could never give her. She knew Maria thought she was too much. Maria wanted her to be something smaller, something less.
“Hey, Babe! I’m home.” Carla said bursting happily through the front door of 5 Victoria Court. The apartment they’d just bought together. “And I have a surprise for you.” She grinned excitedly.
Maria walked into the lounge, “Where have you been? We were supposed to be meeting Kirk at the Rovers like twenty minutes ago”
“Yeah, I know sweetheart, but look, I stopped and got us a new house plant, like a celebration of new beginnings in our new home.” She held up the potted Peace Lily in her hands proudly. “It can grow as we do.” Carla grinned, she knew if someone had done something like this for her, she would melt. She wanted to treat Maria the way she’d always wanted to be treated. She wanted to make her feel special, spoiled, and loved.
“Carla, that’s really nice but Kirk will be waiting for us. Can you just maybe tone it down a little with the excitement when we’re at the pub? We don’t want everyone all up in our business.”
Carla smiled, trying to hide her disappointment as she sat the plant on the coffee table. “No, we don’t.”
Except that she really did.
She wanted everyone to know she had just bought her first ever home with the love of her life. She wanted to flaunt it; she wanted to tell anyone and everyone she passed in the street. She was excited and proud, and in love. She couldn’t understand why Maria wasn’t just as happy.
Maria had always felt shame when it came to their relationship. She was mostly closeted, only the people closest to them knowing they were a couple. Carla thought buying an apartment together was a massive step toward Maria finally accepting herself and letting go of that shame. Turns out, it just added another level to her fear and anxiety.
She knew it wasn’t personal, that it was something Maria had to work out for herself, work through, but it really was hard. The longer they stayed together, the more it felt like Maria was resisting their relationship and resenting Carla if she made any movement to be affectionate in public.
Carla didn’t mean to push; she didn’t mean to pressure her. She wanted to support Maria on her journey to self-acceptance. But if there was one thing to know about Carla Connor, it’s that she was a massive flirt, whose love language was physical touch. A toxic combination for someone hiding and riddled with shame.
They arrived at their local, The Rovers Return, and slipped into a booth where Kirk was waiting. Carla slipped in next to Maria and tried her best to keep at a decent distance that wouldn’t draw suspicion. After all, everyone else thought they were just two roommates, who decided to go halves on a house as a great investment plan.
“Hiya.” Kirk said. “I didn’t think you were coming, didn’t matter though because Glenda gave me a free pint because she felt bad for me being stood up on me birthday.”
“Sorry,” Maria said regretfully, giving a slight glare to Carla.
“Yeah, sorry Kirk,” Carla shifted awkwardly in her seat. “i just got carried away. I bought a little plant for the house.” Her stomach twisted at the thought of the unappreciated plant wilting away on their coffee table.
“What kind of plant?”
At least Kirk was interested; it’s more than she could say for his sister.
“A peace lily.”
“Well i hope it brings you peace. Personally, i like those monster plants. Not sure what they're supposed to bring you though?”
“Monstera?” Carla smirked.
“Oh yeah, that’s probably it.” Kirk pulled out his phone and started typing on it.
Maria and Carla shared a confused look.
“Here we go,” he said. “Longevity and new beginnings.”
“What?” Maria said, not at all catching on.
“That’s what the monster plant means.”
“Oh right.” She said, looking slightly guilty for not being as invested in the plant conversation.
“Maybe you should have bought one of those, Carla.”
“Maybe.” Carla smiled resting her hand on Maria’s knee, giving it a teasing squeeze.
Maria shifted uncomfortably and Carla removed her hand. She pretended everything was fine but deep down she could feel a knot growing in her stomach and the cracks forming on her heart.
The weeks went on and Carla could feel the shift; Maria became increasingly distant every day. The more Carla tried to mend whatever pieces of them that were broken the more Maria seemed to shut her out.
Carla had felt like she had been walking on eggshells for weeks, trying not to fracture whatever was left of their fragile relationship. She knew something was wrong, but she also knew she could fix it. If only Maria would just let her try.
The days were ok as Carla had Underworld to run, and Maria was hairdressing. They both focused on their work and then at least had their respective jobs to talk about when they came home to each other. The nights, however, were the worst. Maria would barely let Carla touch her anymore, they went from Carla spooning Maria every night to them both on opposite sides of the bed, a cold gap growing between them quite literally and figuratively speaking.
Carla knew Maria needed some space and she was giving it to her. She knew they’d heal from this, whatever this was. She knew they’d find a way back to a happy place. She just needed to give Maria the time and space to deal with whatever she was going through.
Carla was sure that if her girlfriend knew she was loved and supported, they’d get through this.
Until eventually Maria couldn’t handle it anymore.
One afternoon after they had both finished work. Carla was making them both a brew when Maria decided to blow up their life.
“I can’t do this.” She said anguish dripping from her voice.
Carla was confused. “What? Have a brew?”
“No, this.” Maria said gesturing between them.
Carla just stared, it’s all she knew how to do in the moment. This couldn’t be happening.
Maria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’re not happy.”
Carla was trying to form words, but she wasn’t sure what the right ones would be. What could she say to make Maria stop this. To make her realise she was making a mistake.
“We love each other,” Carla managed, “We bought this apartment together.”
“It’s not enough and you know it.”
But Carla didn’t know it, she had been naïve and truly thought Maria was it for her, the one for her.
Carla looked at the dying peace Lily on the coffee table. She almost laughed at the irony of it. It had wilted just as fast as their relationship had. Things had become less peaceful since she had brought it home.
In trying to save it she had over watered it and maybe that’s what she had done with Maria too.
“Please.” She begged. “Don’t do this, don’t throw away what we have. It’s us Maria, Us.”
“I’m sorry.” She said coldly. “I’ll pack my things and stay with Kirk.”
She looked numb and it was then that Carla realised she may have gone about this, all wrong. In giving Maria the space she needed she had probably actually given her space to build her walls and numb her emotions.
“Maria, please.” Carla begged again. “I can stay with Michelle give you some time and we can work this out.”
“No, I’m sorry Carla. I just can’t. I’m done.”
Carla lays on her bed atop her covers.
She hadn’t let Maria into the flat. She had told her they could catch up properly tomorrow and they hugged, and Maria had left.
She couldn’t believe the nerve of her ex-girlfriend basically showing up in the middle of the night begging to talk. It had shaken Carla. She honestly wasn’t sure if she was pleased to see her or not.
The ‘I miss you’ really threw a spanner in the works. What was that supposed to mean? She missed her as a person? – that can’t be true because she never really loved the real Carla, only the version of her that Maria had in her head. Does she miss their relationship? That also didn’t seem right because the last few months they were together were absolutely miserable.
Does Carla miss Maria? For a long time, the answer was yes... but now? Now Carla's not sure she does. If there’s someone she does miss, it's not an ex, it's a blonde detective that she could never have to begin with.
Everything seems so messed up at the moment. Carla has been a fighter all her life. She’s taken hit after hit and picked herself back up each time, coming out of it wiser and stronger.
This time feels different though, it feels like all the fight has left her body. She’s not sure if it’s because of how soul crushing she felt after Maria left and she hasn’t truly recovered. If it’s falling for Lisa and having to cut her out of her life. If it’s Maria turning up out of the blue and stirring up everything she’s tried so hard to tuck away or if it’s not having her own place, own life which makes her feel like a failure.
Maybe all of the above.
Her factory feels like it’s the only constant, the only ounce of control she has over her spiralling life.
That’s all she can concentrate on right now, everything else is all too much.