Ori interrupted, her eyes slightly wider. “Are… are you saying you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“Oh God, no.  I … I think I want to be with you too much.”

Ori started walking away mid-sentence, turning her face away from Tara. “I’m sorry I need to use the bathroom I’ll be right back.”

Tara stared after Oriana, unsure what the hell she just did wrong.  It took about thirty-seconds before she could hear her father’s voice in the back of her head and she began power-walking after Oriana and going straight for the bathroom.

She pushed open the bathroom door and heard very deep breathing coming from the stall at the end.

“Okay so maybe I just fucked up out there… I can’t let you walk off like that so, you’re just going to have to listen to me ramble until I make sense.”  She said walking over to the stall door. Ori was sitting there, fully clothed. Ori had wiped away her tears, but, she’d obviously just been crying. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you.  I feel like I live in a minefield. I want to be honest with you - always.  I love you and I know you hate hearing it-”

“I don’t hate hearing it I love- hearing it,” said Ori. “It’s just scary, because I don’t want to leave you. And I think about what Francesco told me. How he made me to be controlled by him and-”

“STOP.”  She snarled.  “He didn’t MAKE you.  He used you. He… hurt you.”  

“Call it formed or shaped or whatever else. It’s the same thing.”

“You loved him and he betrayed that trust.  I can’t blame you for that, but god if you only knew how many times I’ve dreamed about killing him again.”  She shook her head. “He died too quick for how much I hate him and I… I know you’re hurting and bothered and when you don’t want to tell me about what’s hurting and bothering you I feel like I’m doing something wrong.  Or that I’m misreading the signs. You’re my first love. You’re the first person I’ve trusted like this… I’m learning too, you know?”

“But how am I supposed to know the difference between when I really care about someone and when I just… fall into the dance he taught me?” Ori sniffed, turning and wiping away a tear to obviously fail to hide it from Tara.

Tara softened, “Darling.  My heart.  Please… he was a bad man, but what you felt wasn’t.  You didn’t do anything wrong.  In fact, that’s why what he did was so terrible.  You can’t distrust what you felt for him, if you do then you’ll never love again because you let yourself love him.  That’s not wrong.” Ori’s breathing had quickened. She tried to focus on Tara’s voice. 

“Maybe the hardest thing about this is letting yourself mourn that illusion you held onto for so many years.  Grieve the man you thought you knew, even if it was just a story you told yourself to get by.  Tell me…”  She paused for a moment, remembering the words Bella wrote in her journal about Montreal.  “I want you to tell me about your happiest memory with Francesco.”

Ori seemed panicked; she stood and, with tears in her eyes, slapped Tara hard across the face. “Do you forgive me?” she asked.

Tara put a hand on her cheek where the sting was fresh and biting, stunned more than hurt.  Confused.  Slowly she nodded.  “Yes.”  She said without much hesitation.

Oriana slapped her again before the word was fully out of Tara’s mouth. She’d started crying steadily. “Do you forgive me?”

“What are you doing…”  Tara said with a hint of tears in her own eyes from the pain.

“Do you forgive me?” You can leave if you don’t. Just walk away.

Tara prepared herself to grab the other woman’s wrist if the slap came again and this time she said, “Always.”

Tears streaming down her face, Ori removed the knife from behind her belt. “Really? Always?” You can run.

Tara stepped closer to Oriana.  “Yes.”  It would be harder to use a knife in a small space, Tara made sure she knew how she’d grab her if she had to, though she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Ori slowly raised the knife in between her and Tara, not directly threatening, but pointing it more like it was a magic wand. Grey eyes met brown, and the knife clattered to the floor as Ori threw herself at Tara and, sobbing, wrapped her up in a hug. Tara had rarely seen Oriana cry even a single tear; Ori hated to show weakness. This was different.

“I’m sorry,” sobbed Ori, kissing Tara’s cheek. “I… I love you. I’ll never leave you, Tara. Just… promise you’ll never leave me either.” Ori was crying hard, and she clung onto Tara she’d fallen overboard and the other girl was her liferaft. 

***

In the course of Aurora’s journal, Tara had counted no less than half a dozen bathrooms which Billy had busted into following Aurora refusing to let her pained words be the end of a conversation.  In each bathroom there had been tears, there had been pain, there had been love and lust - it was some sort of weird reoccuring situation for them from their first unintentional date at the Governor's re-election ball and going forward from there.  Billy never let something as stupid as a bathroom stop him from being there for Aurora and she sure as fuck was going to do no less for Oriana.

Her cheeks stung, the knife got more looks than not as the two of them sat there on the cold tiled floor holding each other.  Oriana had cried as hard as she imagined her father had at the bottom of those stairs or Bella had on the day she told Gavin that she’d kissed William Bowden.  Broken people on the start of a journey to being whole were terrifying things - she was beginning to understand that now. Adventures were terrifying and love was messy and complicated - lust was simple, but love was a choice remaining when walking away might be easier.

God alone knew that her family needed things from her right now, enough to keep her busy for the rest of her life.  Oriana needed her too, so much it could swallow her up whole, the amount of energy it could take to forgive her again and again.  The amount of stamina required to endure the endless self-doubt and skittish desire to run from anything that could hurt might be more than she had to spare.  She had to admit that to herself as she dried Ori’s tears and rocked her slowly, letting her cry it out and slowly calm.

Oriana couldn’t really be hers.  Not yet at least. Oriana was right to know she wasn’t herself yet.  And if she did dive into Tara, it would be going from one master to another.  Bacchus had said that making love could never be done against one’s will or should not be… and he was right only it wasn’t just about the physical act.  Real love, as Frank had told Lucy, was a choice and Oriana wasn’t ready to make any choices about her future. Tara had to slow the fuck down, for herself and for Ori… but she had to find a way to do it without making Ori think she was pulling away.  

Helping Oriana to her feet, Tara gave her a reassuring smile and whispered, “I’ll always be right beside you.”  She kissed Ori’s cheek gently. “Let’s go back to the room. You can shower, freshen up… we’ll eat. Then, if you’re up for it, we’ll talk.  If you can’t… I’ll just be with you.”

Ori nodded. She seemed embarrassed, vulnerable, but she kissed Tara’s cheeks before running to their room.

Tara was sure she knew the path forward, on some level, but she wasn’t sure that she could help Oriana down that path.  It was like knowing the steps to a dance, but not knowing if the band would play the right song.  In some ways, she wasn’t in a minefield, she was waiting for the song to start and having to change her moves at the drop of the beat.  It was exhausting as any sort of training she’d ever done, running for miles was easier and she found herself wishing they could have stayed in Iceland just as Ori had said.  And yet… would Oriana ever be better?  Or would she just be ignoring her pain by hiding there?  She wanted to be Ori’s refuge from pain, but better than a shelter was a true physician.  Ori was still healing… but Tara couldn’t be sure she was the right person to help.  Not really.  All she could do was try.

Oriana had washed her face, fixed her hair, and fixed her makeup before she felt like she’d really calmed down. Her cheeks burned with shame and regret and she reclined on the bed, waiting for Tara with her legs crossed, one foot bouncing in the air.

Tara returned to the room with a tray of food gathered from the kitchens on the ship.  It wouldn’t be dinner for a few hours, so she had to gather what she could for the lunch they’d missed during Ori’s breakdown.  Entering the room she gave the other woman a reassuring smile.  “Ham and Turkey, white and rye breads.  Cheese.  Olives.  A few odds and ends.  It’s the best I could do between meals.”

Ori had intended to stay coolly reclined, pretending like nothing had happened as she mirrored her pose from Tara’s dorm room a thousand lifetimes ago, but she sat up immediately on the bed as soon as Tara entered. 

“I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”  She said putting together a sandwich right away at the small table.  She thought about suggesting eating on the deck, but the wind was gusty and it wasn’t ideal.

“I feel like if I don’t say some things I’m going to explode.” Ori offered a slightly broken smile. “Maybe this is how you feel all the time?”

Tara shrugged, amused a little, “Maybe.”

“Tara… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even thinking. That’s not true. I was thinking. It’s just emotional shit and I was sca- scared. Can I try to explain? I want to explain.”

Tara sat down in a chair and simply nodded.  She put her elbow on the arm and braced her chin on it, crossing her legs.

Ori spoke in a calm voice, but her hands were laced and Tara noticed that her knuckles were white.

“I… I love you. I wasn’t lying about that. I don’t feel like I have to say it. I feel it. It’s really fucking confusing and frustrating, but I know what I feel. I felt it in Iceland. And before, but especially Iceland. And I… I saw Francesco last night. It was a dream, I’m 90, no 95% sure. I know he’s dead. But in the dream, he said all this shit to me. Like you’re just using me and you don’t really care about me and all this shit. And I tried to tell him he was wrong and he just broke me down like he always does-”

“Did.” corrected Tara.

“Right. Well, it was just… I want to believe that life can just be… Iceland. But I second guess things. I know you’re not lying to me. I know it. But there’s just this voice in the back of my head that sometimes tells me you’re just using me or that I’m not good enough and all this other shit. And so yesterday… you talked about moving in with me, and I freaked out a little. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I did. And it’d just be you and me, and I’d be ready to just… do anything for you. And then I realized that’s exactly how I felt with Francesco, and I freaked out more. And I…” Ori swallowed. “I just felt so confused. About everything. I felt like I was falling into the exact same pattern I was in before. A lapdog, you know? And I… I just did the opposite of what Francesco would want me to do. I tried to hit him when he was cruel to Lucia and he-”

Ori’s eyes faded out for a moment. “- it was bad.” She took a deep breath. “And so I figured that when I hit you, I’d either see that same look in your eyes and I’d know you were like him. Or you’d realize I was just too fucked up and you’d leave me. Or…” her eyes dropped. “... I dunno. I’m so sorry. I’m just… fucked up and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But I love you, Tara. I do. And I’m sorry that the first time I said it to you was in a fucking bathroom after I slapped you.”

Ori’s eyes stayed down as she sighed. 

“My grandfather … do you mind a story… a little rambling if there’s a payoff.  I promise.”  she smirked. Ori’s eyes darted up, as if she was expecting Tara to shout at her. Instead, Ori leaned back and listened as Tara continued. “I know how you love hearing me go on and on but I do have a point here.”  she said sitting up and began making a sandwich for Ori.

Ori nodded. Tara kept making the sandwich and started talking, “So, my grandfather meets my grandmother, years and years ago.  No older than you and me.  My grandmother, that is.  He’s like almost thirty or something.  He’s seen a lot of the world.  He’s carrying a shit ton of literal scars from a father who made him into a weapon.  Beat him literally into a shape and my grandfather was the world’s worst hedonist cause, well, he figured he’d be dead before thirty so why not drink and fuck until the bullet that was meant for him finally caught up with him right?”  She chuckled and picked up the small plate and brought it over to Ori with a turkey sandwich on it.  A few olives put on the side for good measure. 

“Here.  Eat.”  she said with a wink. Ori started eating.  “Anyway, so he meets my grandmother, the daughter of these two powerful Godfathers who literally run the whole United States underworld, arguably.  And he puts her on a plane and takes her away to another country to fuck the shit out of her.  I know, I’m not making this sound romantic but trust me, it is.  The whole damn story is far more … oh, I don’t know, lovely?  It’s got a lot of moving parts but suffice to say the part I need you to know is that he didn’t take her to Montreal thinking this was his forever.  He was just looking for Ms. Right Now.  And my grandmother was looking for a distraction from her shit.  They said their goodbyes and that was supposed to be the end of it.  Grandpa was going home to Philly.  Grandma to Detroit.  End of the story… so they thought.  Destiny pulls us like a tide though,”  she said beginning to make her own sandwich.

“And sometimes we have to face the worst shit, not just the hand the world deals us but that crap we all have inside.  Our scars, our fears about whether we’re normal, or the dread of someone putting a collar on us and making us a lapdog meant to come when called.”  She shook her head.

“You see,”  She sat down in front of her food, “My grandfather feared that, he once infamously called wedding rings a dog collar.  He wanted to know why my grandmother even wanted to be married to someone.  He mocked her, in a way, for her obsession with trying to live up to her father’s dream of her being a good Catholic wife to some mobster… he failed to get it, utterly.  He wanted his freedom.  He wanted to belong to no one.  He was afraid of what it would mean to have someone hold that power over him never realizing that … the ring wasn’t something someone ever would put on his hand, but something we make for ourselves, if we ever do.”

She shrugged.  “Anyway, the more time they spent together, the more shit they faced they eventually came to realize that what they had together was something neither of them ever wanted to be without.  My grandfather eventually brought his collar and knelt before my grandmother and without ever saying the words… he put it on.  Control isn’t something someone takes from us… it’s something we give.  It hurts to have someone misuse the power over ourselves we give to people.  It’s why we fear someone leaving and why it didn’t hurt to have you slap me.  The pain was physical and you know that the body can endure just about anything… but the heart?  You keep running from it cause you know how fucked up it makes you.  You’re right to be scared that I or anyone might misuse you like Francesco did.  After such a betrayal… why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I hit you.”

“Ori, I’d let you shoot me if I thought it would help.”  she smiled. “I wasn’t hurt. I really wasn’t. Just… afraid for you.  Afraid of what you might feel when it was over - afraid that if you hurt me that you’d never forgive yourself.”

“I feel fucked up, Tara. Really fucked up. But I also feel like you’re never going to leave me. And I don’t want to leave you either.”

Tara shook her head, “I do believe you.  I think you feel everything you’re saying right now and this might be the most honest you’ve ever been with me or anyone else and… I can’t tell you how good I feel about that…”

“I sense a but…”

“...but my the point of my story about my grandparents was to say what I had been trying to say on the bow of the ship and failed at.  I was trying to say that she won his trust by not pushing him. She … focused on herself. She was there. She was always there for him, loving him, but never trying to chase him.  In time, he found his truth. In time he looked over and she was there still and they came together naturally. I wanted you to know that I could that - I can be here with you and for you and let you have all the room you need to find out who you are.  I trust you. I … I know you’re not leaving and that’s why it hurt in Italy when you were trying to run home. I trust you and … I let you in. Deep. Maybe deeper than I realized until that moment when I realized I’d gladly kill for you too.”

“Do you regret letting me in that deep?”

“If you had asked me the moment I dropped the gun?”  Tara chuckled, “Yeah.  I did in that moment, but then… after I calmed down I realized that the only way to ever be happy in life and to feel anything good is to be willing to take risks.  It’s like leaping from that car.  If you don’t leap, if you don’t take the risk that you’ll get shot in the face, then you’ll never know Iceland.  It’s a thing we all do.  Most people don’t actually have to get shot for it… normal people don’t jump out of planes for it… but some people do.  And I would.  I’d do it every time for you without exception.  And if I can do that, well, I can take things slow too.  We’ve rushed so much because of all the life and death stakes happening to and around us, but it’s not always going to be this way, Ori.  It’s okay to slow down, if that’s what you need.  Let me woo you.  If that’s what you want.  I’ll work for it.  I’ll prove that I’m your forever and one day you’ll look at me and you’ll know too.  Just like grandpa knew.”

“I-” Ori closed her eyes, then raised them to Tara. “Can you come sit with me?”

Tara stood up and moved over to the bed, “Let me do this for you.  You’ll never doubt, if I have to prove it.  That voice in your head will have a harder time making a case for that shit, if you make me jump through some hoops of your own creation.”

“So you’ll keep proving it to me. And I’ll keep proving it to you.” The first smirk appeared on her face. “Without slapping.”

She nodded.  “And one day the voice will go away.  That’s how it’s gonna work.”

Ori nodded and started unbuttoning her shirt.

Tara reached a hand over and put it on hers.  “No.  I want you… but maybe this time, we don’t?”

Ori shook her head. “Not that.” She pulled out the ring on the chain and removed it from her neck. “Will you… wear this for a little while? I want you to. I gave it to you. If you want to give it back sometime, that’s fine, too.”

“I…”  The emotion in her voice could be heard as she struggled to find the next word and just nodded.

Ori slipped the chain around Tara’s neck and fastened it, dropping the diamond ring down to rest between her breasts.

“Thank you,” said Ori softly. “For putting up with me.”

“We’re worth it.”  She said softly, touching the ring.  “Always worth it.”  She laughed thinking back to the moment she’d given the ring over to Oriana, and what she hoped would one day happen with it.  Tara beamed.  Maybe things would work out after all.

“Hungry yet?”  Tara laughed stealing an olive off her plate and popping it into her mouth.

“Tara… I’m honestly so fucking exhausted right now. Emotions are just…” Ori flopped back onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief that she hadn’t hurt things with Tara.

Tara picked up the plate and moved it off to the nightstand and then slid up alongside Oriana.  “Well then, let’s rest. We still have a bit more time before we get to Philly and we have to go back to being ‘good friends’ … right now you can be my girl, and I can listen to you sleep.”

“I’ll be your girl there, too. We’ll just be… close friends.” she smirked. “Very close.”

“Very close.”  She agreed kissing Ori’s head.  “The closest.”

“A…”

Tara nodded.  “A. Always.” She smiled.  “Though maybe that’s not a thing.  Are we sticking to things?”

“Bow.” Ori shrugged. The rules didn’t matter.

“Castles.”  She said without explanation.

Oh fuck I did the letters wrong, thought Ori. Don’t say “Francesco.”

“Deep.” “Eggs.”  She smiled.

“France,” said Ori, immediately. “Guns.”  Tara said, hesitating a moment. “Heart.” 

“Ice cream.”  Tara didn’t hesitate, instead it came out quickly and as easily as breathing.

“Jump.” “King.”“Love.” “Money," Tara said with a sigh. “Nerd.”

Tara playfully glared at Ori before saying, “Oriana.”

“Philly.” “Quilt.”  “Rubdown.” “Sunshine.” “Tiger.” “Underwear.”  Tara chuckled. “Vivaldi.” Tara searched for a word.  “Wick.” She finally resolved.

“Excited.” Ori glared at Tara. “I always hate the last few.”

“Excited doesn’t start with an X.”

“X-Ray. The  only normal word that starts with X, then.”

“Yours.”  Tara said looking deep into Oriana’s eyes.

“... zuck me?”

Tara laughed.  “I think that’s a win for me.  Even if the last one wasn’t a real word.  Next time, you can make me go second.  Do you know why I asked you to tell me something nice about him in the bathroom?”  She said stroking Ori’s hair.  Ori tensed up immediately.

“So that you know it’s okay that you have happy thoughts about the harder years of your life.  Nothing is black and white in this world.  You and your feelings… you shouldn’t be afraid of them.  And you shouldn’t ever worry that I’m judging you for them.  I want to share your joy.  Even if it’s all tangled up in complicated crap.  I want to laugh with you and know what made your life good.  I don’t want you to close off a whole chapter of the experiences that make you who you are… because the person who survived that, who lived through it, she’s someone I love dearly.  So… maybe it’s not bad to ask you to share some of that with me too.  Sort through the good and bad.  Not just the bad.”

“You’re probably right. You’re right about things annoyingly often. But… when I’m ready. Right now, I’d rather just focus on being here with you. I like this,” said Ori, leaning back against Tara.

“That’s good too.  Just, know, that I want to see it all.  I’m always here and you don’t have to be afraid that I’m going to run away when you show me something else about your past.  That if you’re happy about something, or someone, who was complicated that doesn’t make you a bad person.  It makes you human.  And strong.”  She kissed Ori gently.  “Okay, done now.”

Ori took a deep breath and let herself relax. Lying against Tara wasn’t precisely like being in one of Iceland’s hot springs.

But it was close.