[Issue 2025.72]

‘Turnabout’, Ana Wesley

Art © 2025 Joel Bisaillon

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Dani heaved a sigh, sending a trickle of vapor to join the polluted summer air. The afternoon sun seared the concrete wall under her elbows, glazing her arms with sweat. Three stories below, traffic inched like a line of ants between apartment complexes. Sun-scorched trees reached up from tiny dirt patches, leaves limp in submission to the smog.

They should go to the beach, while it was still warm enough. Why not Sunday?

Dani snuffed out the flicker of hope in her chest. She had too many client projects waiting. It wasn’t worth the scrambling to catch up. Or the two-hour drive, walking on eggshells next to Naomi. Maybe when things were calmer, when things were better.

Assuming they ever would be.

Dani pursed her lips against the urge to take another drag. She pocketed her vape pen and peeled her tank top from her back. As she stepped through the balcony door, a rank odor wrinkled her nostrils. The stench thickened when she tugged the glass slider shut.

Even a decade later, she remembered the pungency of dissection day in high school biology: decay barely held at bay. She gagged. No way a busted pipe would hit that hard and fast.

Dani lifted her shirt, breathing in the menthol clinging there. Her eyes coasted across the apartment to the kitchenette. Mounting garbage pried open the trash can’s steel jaws. Dirty dishes towered in the sink above a broken disposal.

One more email, one more project, one more page… She couldn’t keep letting things go like this.

Maybe a breath of fresh—rather, outside—air was all it took to notice the odors piling up. She couldn’t work like this.

Dani’s bare feet sank into the shaggy carpet as she made to cross the room. Her step halted in midair as a splash of neon orange and blue caught her eye. She gasped by reflex and filled her mouth with the air’s sour taste. Bile shot up into her throat. A dead mandarinfish lie underfoot, carpet threads sticking to its body. The limp remains were a glassy-eyed mockery of the fish that had once undulated like a tiny sea dragon in its aquarium.

Dread thrust Dani’s heart against her ribcage, spreading in tendrils through her blood. She crouched down, nose buried in her shirt to little avail. It stunk more than even a fish out of water had any right to. She squinted through a teary film, searching for any sign of life. It laid motionless, no thrashing or gasping or heaving.

“No, no, no,” Dani groaned. Anxiety and disgust churned her gut into a whirlpool. Fighting the urge to retch, she stepped back and braced her hands on the cool glass of her desk. Her head snapped to where Lucky perched atop his cat tree, pawing compulsively at his nose.

“Damn it!” Dani tapped her computer mouse to banish the bubbling screensaver.

6:21 pm.

Her teeth began to chatter. Naomi would be home from work any time. Some juvenile impulse urged Dani to pluck the fish up, drop it in the 55-gallon aquarium, and feign ignorance about the whole thing. But that only spun the cocoon of guilt around her heart even tighter.

Grabbing a handful of paper towels, Dani wadded the fish up. She stuffed the remains into the trash and yanked the drawstring shut around the bulging pile. She hauled it at arm’s length, down the stairs and across the lot to the dumpster. Dani patted down her sweats only to realize she’d forgotten her key. She paced the concrete under the stifling sun until a stranger opened the building for her.

Dani mumbled her thanks, sensing the man’s eyes creep down her neglected braids and sloppy sweats. When she opened the apartment door, the lingering stench twisted her stomach into knots. She opened the balcony slider and scrubbed at the rug, glancing up only to shoot filthy looks at Lucky. The cat rubbed at his nose, ears revolving with agitation. He was clearly in discomfort, likely from splashing in the aquarium’s saltwater. Dani couldn’t scrounge up a shred of sympathy; a mere week after letting the tagalong stray into their home, he’d killed Naomi’s most beloved fish and hadn’t even the decency to eat the damn thing.

Dani was still on her hands and knees when the door lock clicked.

Naomi shuffled in and kicked off her shoes. She let loose her ponytail, shaking it out into a fine black curtain. Her eyes rested on Dani and her brow crinkled. “What are you doing?” Rather than wait for an answer, she crossed the hallway and into the bathroom. Her voice echoed down the corridor, “Oh, thanks for taking out the trash.”

It was their latest trick, plucked off a relationship blog: appreciating one another for the little things.

Dani rose to her feet. Self-loathing burned a hole in her throat, rendering her voice as meek as a fearful child. “Naomi?”

“What?” the other called over the sound of running water.

Dani’s words tremored as she spoke to the off-white wall. “I’m sorry. Lucky got into your fish tank.”

The faucet squealed to a stop. Naomi hastened into the living room, water dripping down her face to pool along the collar of her navy polo.

Dani’s eyes reflexively darted to the ground. In her periphery, she watched the other’s feet pad across the carpet toward the tank.

Dani strained to listen past the throbbing in her ears as Naomi asked, “Who’d he get?”

“Your new mandarinfish.”

“Nessie,” Naomi corrected sharply.

Dani winced. Her fingers twisted the charm bracelet on her opposite wrist. “I’m sorry.”

Naomi heaved a sigh, raking a hand through her hair. Without turning, she hissed, “Damn it, Dani.”

“I know.” Dani’s voice pitched high into a plea. Desperation flooded her brain, burning at the roots of her hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he could get past the lid.”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re home all day!” The words burst forth like water from a broken dam, as if they’d been straining to erupt in ten thousand situations up until now.

Dani pressed her fingers to her temple, eyelashes fluttering to abate hot tears. “I stepped outside. I really am—”

“To smoke?” Agitation boiled over in Naomi’s voice, then evaporated into a sigh. “Whatever.” She spun around to face Dani, hand pinching the bridge of her nose. “You need to take him to the vet.”

“What?” Dani squeaked. A fresh wave of panic jumpstarted her heart. “Why?”

“Mandarinfish have toxic spines,” Naomi snapped, in a tone that indicated this wasn’t her first time saying so. “Look at the cat, he’s in pain. Spines probably stuck him.”

“Shit.” Dani spun around and reached up toward Lucky. He hissed, batting at her hand. “Christ, I don’t have a cat carrier. Is it bad?”

“Hell if I know. Most animals are smart enough to leave mandarinfish alone.”

Dani reached again, but Lucky mewled and backed into the corner. “Damn it, stay still!”

Another sigh brimming with frustration sounded over her shoulder. Naomi’s arm brushed Dani’s as she reached up, ignoring the bloody swipe Lucky tore across her hand. She secured him and jerked her head. “You drive.”

Dani led the way downstairs, keys biting into her clenched fingers. Why had she insisted on taking Lucky in? She didn’t even like cats all that much. She should have choked down her stupid savior complex and kept feeding him canned tuna in the parking lot.

Dani didn’t notice Naomi slip into the Hyundai’s backseat until their eyes met in the mirror. The crystalizing tension between them stabbed through Dani’s gut. Gritting her teeth, she jerked the key in the ignition. Her hands tightened around the wheel at the sight of traffic lining the block. As she waited for an opening, her fingers traced the four letters dangling from her bracelet.

D-E-A-L.

She fidgeted with it until a gap appeared in the lane. Naomi let out a surprised cry as they lurched over the curb. “Careful! Do you know where you’re going?”

Cursing under her breath, Dani reached into her pocket and yanked out her cell phone. Eyes flickering from the screen to the windshield, her thumb tapped out a search for the nearest vet.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend your time after work. I’ll get rid of him, if you want.”

That familiar sigh blew past Naomi’s lips, the one that told Dani she’d gotten it wrong again. “That’s not what I want, Dani. I just want you to realize that… As important as dogs and cats are to some people—”

“I know.” Desperation graveled Dani’s voice as she cut in. “That’s how important fish are to you. Trust me, I couldn’t feel worse.” The silence deepened and Dani bit into her lower lip. At a red light, she dipped her head to scroll through her phone. “There’s a vet with emergency hours two exits down the freeway.”

A car horn blared, sending a surge of adrenaline through Dani’s blood. She slammed on the gas and the car jerked forward. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

Lucky’s feral snarl sounded from the backseat. Dani’s gaze settled on the rearview mirror to watch Naomi struggle with the cat. “I can’t see if there’s any puncture wounds past the fur.” Her voice stuck to her throat. “Did he eat the whole fish?”

Dani swallowed hard. “No.”

“He’ll probably be fine. Better safe than sorry.”

Amid the nest of boa constrictors that was Dani’s chest, cool relief pooled. At least Naomi could take a five-second break from being pissed to reassure her. Maybe things between them hadn’t quite tipped over the cliff yet. She drew breath to express her gratitude, but the words died as the green freeway signs glinted overhead. She tore her eyes from the slope of the overpass to her phone, searching for which freeway to take.

“Dani!”

The panic-pitched cry sent Dani’s heart into her throat. She jerked her head up, but her vision blurred as a white four-door car enveloped the driver’s side windows. She slammed on the brakes, their squeal preceding a crunch as the cars collided. The world flipped before her tears blurred it to white. Her teeth knocked together and her fingers gripped the wheel until blood fled from them. Twice she pitched out of her seat, suspended only by the belt biting into her shoulder and waist. The car’s tumbling slowed and wavered, tempting one last languid tip.

Dani squeezed her eyes shut. She sucked in a quavering breath as she bid the car to stop.

It plummeted into freefall.

Shattering glass punctuated the final impact. Unable to sustain the terror-born tension, Dani’s body slumped. Gravity sent blood rushing to her head. She blinked and squinted to see the windshield staring into asphalt.

They must have fallen off the overpass.

Thick summer air flooded the car through broken windows. The stifling heat of it slowed Dani’s rapid breaths. Trembles wracked her body as pain began to register; blood smeared her left arm where dented metal gashed it.

Around them sounded dying car engines and thrumming footfalls. “Na…” Dani’s throat closed up. She swallowed and tried again. “Naomi?”

Her eyes drifted to the askew mirror. It reflected a cracked corner of the rear windshield, each individual line stained with red. A moan tore through Dani’s throat. She twisted to look and breath left her. Naomi was a tangle of limbs slumped against the car roof, her face a shiny mess of blood-clumped hair.

“Naomi.” Her name escaped Dani’s lips in a raspy whisper. She drew breath to try again, but dissolved into a sob.

Footsteps circled. Past the throbbing in Dani’s ears, she heard shouting. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Despair crushed Dani’s chest, stripping her of words. Her uninjured arm crossed to touch her bracelet with shaking fingers. Three years she’d spent in this skin, in this life. It had taken longer than ever before, but she’d ruined it. Like she ruined everything.

Dani closed her eyes and collapsed into dead weight. She fell away, out of body and brain. The vertigo swarming her head made it easier to let go. Even after years, the sensation was familiar to her. When she was a child, she likened it to that tumultuous moment on the swing set where you reached the peak. That pinpoint center between your eyes tingled and you felt you might slip right out of your skin.

So she did.

Like elastic, she stretched away from her thrumming heartbeat, the burn in her arm, the agony clawing up her chest. Sensation dissolved until gravity itself was a memory.

The stretching stopped, rebounded, and settled.

---

Dani filled her lungs and opened her eyes to a small, well-lit room. A phantom ache seized her arm and she rubbed it away. Her gaze followed the source of light: a floor lamp with five bulbs. It illuminated the splintered wood of the old desk she sat behind. The laptop’s screen was a blur to her watering eyes.

“Naomi?” she called in a ragged voice. She twisted, expecting the chair to revolve with her, but the hard-backed seat scraped the wooden floor. Dani staggered to her feet and surveyed the studio apartment. It wasn’t one she recognized. The room was miniscule, the desk sitting a few feet away from the fridge and stove. Peeling yellow paint covered three walls and the third was grey cinderblock. The small, high windows looked out into a burnt orange sky.

Dani stood and paced from wall to wall as nervous energy coiled through her. She dipped her hands into her stiff slacks, but there was no cell phone in the pockets. She leaned over the computer. 6:43 pm. Still going by Pacific Time. A paper organizer overflowed with envelopes. She grabbed the topmost, an overdue car recall with an address on it.

Los Angeles. She lived in Los Angeles now.

Dani raked a hand over her face, startled by the sense of something missing. After a second, she placed it: her braided locks were gone. She found the bathroom and fumbled with the switches until bulbs lit the dingy mirror. The unfamiliar reflection mimicked her head’s tilt as she stared flabbergasted. The tight curls of her hair were shorn close to her scalp. Fresh make-up painted her face and she wore a neat blouse. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked this put-together.

A kernel of hope seeded in her heart. Maybe things were better here. It didn’t matter, of course, unless she found Naomi.

A vaguely familiar chime sounded from the other room. She bolted into the hall, hissing as she banged her shoulder on the doorframe. Her heart twisted when she saw the name flashing on the computer screen.

Her trembling hand missed the keyboard on the first try. She flexed her fingers and tried again.

“Hey, sweetheart!” Naomi’s voice carried long-absent joy through the speakers. After a stuttering start, the video came into focus. Her hair was also cut close, tapering along the neck. It wasn’t as big of a change as the smile brightening her face.

Naomi wiggled her fingers. “Babe, you there?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Did you get the food yet?”

Dani’s eyes flickered to the bag on the desk’s corner. She touched a hand to it, feeling warmth under the plastic. Past numb lips, she repeated, “Yeah.” Relief sent Dani slumping back into the chair. She rubbed her temple, warding off visions of Naomi’s lifeless, bloody body.

She’d switched. Naomi was safe here.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if that was true for the other Dani—whether she would cease to exist altogether, or live on as a soulless husk. The idea of leaving behind a string of comatose bodies filled her with nausea. It was impossible to know, so she pushed the thought away and focused on Naomi’s voice:

“I shopped around longer than I care to admit on Yelp. Hopefully it’s good.” Naomi shifted out of view and returned with a foam container. “I got mine from that little vegan place again. I can’t order from anywhere else until I get over these peanut butter cookie bars. You have to try them the next time you visit.”

Dani unwrapped her container of chicken curry. Although queasiness still churned through her stomach, she forced a forkful past her lips. The flavors passed in a muted jumble, singeing her throat on the way down.

Normal. She had to be normal.

“How’s the vegan thing going?” Dani asked. Naomi had always teased the idea in their last life together.

“Still strong. But sometimes I pass that barbeque place and want to die.”

The words sent bile surging into Dani’s throat. She pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes flickering shut.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dani choked out. “Uh… spicy.” She struggled to slow the rhythm of her breath and take another bite.

“How was work?”

“Same old.” Testing the waters, Dani added, “Always nice to work from home.”

“They let you work from home today?” Naomi’s voice pitched with surprise.

Dani struggled to focus through her mind’s static. She’d thought it safe to assume she was still a self-employed graphic designer; that had almost always been the case when she switched during adulthood. “Um, just for today. I wasn’t feeling too well.”

“Uh-oh. What’s up?”

Her genuine concern made Dani’s lips twitch into a smile. “Honestly? Cramps.”

Naomi burst into laughter. “Damn, you got away with that? Figures. I’d get ‘cramps’ all the time if I had to give presentations and crap like you do.”

Dread tingled through Dani’s blood at the prospect of working outside the apartment, let alone public speaking. That didn’t sound anything like her; what was it that she did?

“You sure the food’s okay?”

Dani swallowed down the lump in her throat. “It’s good. How was your day?”

“Awesome. I got to use an ultrasound on a manta ray.”

“Really? Cool.” So Naomi still worked at the aquarium; whatever Dani’s job was, it kept them apart. “How are all the fish and whatnot?”

“Well, Pancake’s biopsy came back clean. Neptune’s healing well, should be up for release soon. Remember the guitarfish that wouldn’t eat? Well, he’s back at it now…”

Dani rested her head in her hand and listened, soaking in the happiness ripening her girlfriend’s voice. It had been too long since she heard it in such purity. Naomi was incredibly devoted to the marine life she cared for; it was so far removed from Dani’s self-centric existence. Not for the first time, she wondered what Naomi ever saw in her.

“You sound like you’re enjoying the work there,” Dani said. “I should find something closer to you.”

Naomi shook her head, speaking through a mouthful, “I told you, you don’t have to feel guilty. I’ll keep applying down there, but the last few rejections were just so discouraging. Making it to the final round of interviews only to get beat is just…” She set down her fork and braced a napkin against her lips. There was a thickness in her words as she murmured, “I miss you.”

Dani’s eyes snapped shut, repressing the burn of tears. She stuffed the welling emotions down. “I’ve missed you too. When can I see you again?”

“Oho!” Naomi jabbed a finger at the webcam. “Forgot our anniversary date already?”

Dani huffed out a nervous chuckle. “Shit, let me just put it down on my calendar. Remind me. Are we doing the day of, or what?”

It was always like this, after a switch. Dani had to pry out every detail about her life like an undercover investigator. Rarely did her switching affect anyone else’s lives dramatically; she supposed that spoke to how little impact she made on others. This particular switch was drastic, probably the result of a choice made early in her life that had a chain reaction.

When Dani bid Naomi farewell and the video chat ended, her hope began to wilt under anxiety. Before she could feel at ease, she had to know what she did for a living.

Dani got to work trying to open her email account, using a recovery option that sent the password to her phone. Her eyes scoured the list. Spam, spam, spam… Student loan balance? She clicked on it and her jaw dropped. She owed over $40,000. She’d never been in debt before; then again, she’d never gone to college before.

Unease yanked the knot in Dani’s stomach tighter. She accessed her bank account next, the numbers making her squirm. The direct deposits were eaten up by her crummy apartment’s rent. Her shoulders tensed when she laid eyes on the payment information: CFA Architects LLP.

She worked for an architecture firm.

Dani’s shoulders began to heave with the force of her breath. With trembling fingers, she navigated to the company’s website. She hit the staff roster and searched for her name. The page snapped to her profile, a photo of her smiling in a blazer with a tiny email icon underneath her name.

It seemed she didn’t just make the coffee.

Dani pushed away from the desk, folding to press her head against her knees. Adrenaline coursed through her blood as she sucked in breath after breath. She’d tossed around the idea of becoming a design architect when she was young, then buried it under a mound of excuses. It was so much easier to live in four walls, to never challenge that horror crawling up her chest every time she put her hand on the doorknob. Apparently, this Dani had overcome it all. Now she was deeply indebted for a degree and possessed none of the skills it boasted.

Stepping into a new life had never seemed so impossible.

Dani threaded her hands behind her head and squeezed. As her sleeves rode up, cold metal brushed her cheek. She lowered her hand to stare at her wrist. D-E-A-L. The same letters dangled from the charm bracelet as in her previous life.

Dani had switched countless times before buying the trinket, fleeing situations and severing bonds with little remorse whenever things turned to shit. She’d lost track of how many times she’d given up, faded out of one existence and into another hoping things would be better. That was before she had met and loved Naomi. She’d sworn off switching. She’d resolved to deal with whatever life threw at her.

If she switched, Dani might never find Naomi again.

Dani slumped back in her chair. Her head drifted back to stare at the ceiling. It was too soon to give this life up for a loss.

She had to try.

---

Dani didn’t bother trying to sleep that night. She channeled her anxiety into investigating her phone and computer. For the first time, her contacts list was chock-full. Her parents, on the other hand, she’d blocked. That was always a toss-up; the more Dani had things together, the more likely she’d lost touch with them.

As dawn light bled through the windows, Dani strode stiff-backed into the bedroom. The plain, professional clothes in her closet showed signs of wear and tear. The grey trousers she plucked out were frayed at the hem. There was a hole in her blouse that could only be disguised by tucking it in. She tried putting on the make-up in the bathroom, hoping it might help her feel more prepared. Instead, her stiff clothes and coated face only exacerbated the feeling that she didn’t belong in her own skin.

Dani had to hit the panic button on her key fob to find her car, shattering the twilight silence of the parking lot. She followed the alarm to a sun-faded Pontiac that she could imagine her grandparents driving. Settling behind the driver’s seat, her eyes flickered reflexively to the rearview mirror. Memories of bloodstained glass wrenched her gut.

Dani tried to draw a breath, but it fled too quickly. She pried her paling fingers from around the steering wheel and wrapped her arms around herself. Her blood rushed hot and fast under her skin. A parking pass hung on the mirror; she knew where to go, but what would she do once she got there? It was hard enough for her to get a gallon of milk on the average day.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

What was she thinking? She couldn’t leave; she’d make a fool of herself. These weren’t shoes she could step into. And it wouldn’t take the people around her long to realize it. How could she explain not being able to do her job? They’d think her crazy. They’d fire her and she’d end up drowning in debt.

How would she explain any of it to Naomi?

Dani’s shoulders heaved with a dry sob. The pressure mounted in her chest until she thought she might burst. She couldn’t stay in this place. She’d go mad. It would kill her.

Before she really even made the decision, she switched.

Dani sat tucked into the corner of a café. Panic began to swell, setting her lungs on fire. Her shaking fingers reached for the purse on the table. She grabbed the phone, scrolling hastily through the contacts. No Naomi.

Switch.

Crammed into a bus, flush against the window. Reaching for the phone in her pocket. No Naomi.

Switch.

Curled up in bed, shades pulled. Fumbling for the phone on the nightstand. No Naomi.

Switch.

---

The first time Dani switched was an accident, of course. She couldn’t have done something so outlandish, so inconceivable on purpose.

Her first switches were by reflex: caught in a lie, scared of her father, a first kiss rejected by her best friend. It was more of an escape route than a power. All she could do was search, with a possibility of making things better or worse each time.

As she grew older and gained agency, switches grew more drastic. Sometimes she woke up in different apartments, next to different people. Amber, Isla, Gabriella… She’d never lived through meeting any of them, only jumped into the body of the Dani who cherished them. It made it easier to sever those bonds when she inevitably broke things again. And after a lifetime of fleeing screw-ups, she had no practice fixing broken things. It was an addiction she had no reason to break.

Until Naomi, the only woman Dani remembered her first date with.

She knew what it was to meet her, to love and rely on her. She left the apartment more, panicked less. She didn’t even think of switching, until her father caught her holding hands with Naomi at her grandmother’s deathbed. He had screamed and cursed in the middle of the hospital corridor, made real every horrific premonition that crossed Dani’s mind when she struggled to walk through the front door.

In the elevator, she had nearly started to slip when Naomi embraced her. In that moment, insurmountable pain became bearable.

Why should she risk losing Naomi for her parents? They weren’t worth it, not by a long shot. Dani bought the bracelet as a reminder to learn how to cope. Because sometimes the bad things that happened weren’t mistakes, just consequences.

If Dani could learn to claw her way out of the holes she dug, maybe she could be happy again.

---

When the switch was over, Dani kept her eyes shut. She was lying under a plush blanket in a stifling room. It was a sensation she knew well: the blankets and bed in the apartment she shared with Naomi.

It took Dani a full minute to gather enough courage to trace her fingers along the cotton sheets. She reached out and touched something soft, smooth, and furry. It shifted under the blanket. Dani jerked her hand away and a puppy emerged from under the sheets. It crawled sleepily toward her, smothering her face in the smell of puppy breath.

Dani tilted her head, joy welling in her chest at the sight of Naomi’s sleeping face in the faint dawn light. Tears stung at her eyes, but they dissolved into silent laughter as the puppy licked her face.

“Hi,” Dani whispered, reaching out to stroke the dog’s floppy ears. A beagle. She’d always wanted one, but stifled the impulse knowing she could hardly take care of herself. The last time the urge hit hard, she’d brought Lucky the cat into the apartment. She must have caved this time around.

A smile curled at Dani’s lips as the pup bounced off her stomach and crawled down her leg.

That was when she felt something warm and wet drench the sheets near her feet.

“Oh, no! No, no, puppy!” Dani scrambled up, legs struggling to kick free of the sheets.

“Dani?” Naomi groaned, rolling onto her side. “What’s the matter? Oh… Oh, shit.”

“I have to take the puppy out,” Dani whispered. She scooped the beagle up and stumbled out of bed.

“Too late now,” Naomi grumbled, shoving off the blankets. “Damn it, Dani. I told you to crate her if you weren’t going to get up in the night to take her out.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll change the sheets when I get back.”

Dani shuffled through the apartment by the gentle blue light of the aquarium; Naomi’s prized mandarinfish still swam there, its fins whirling like propellers through the water. Anxiety took root in her chest at the sight. Whether they had a puppy or a cat, things between Naomi and her could still be deteriorating. The thought of losing her again fileted Dani’s heart into slivers.

The puppy began to squirm and Dani shushed her. Fumbling through the darkness, she found the shimmering ID tag on the harness hanging by the door.

Shiloh.

She fitted it around the pup and carried her downstairs tucked under an arm. Thankfully, there was a doggy bag crushed in the pocket of her pajamas. By the time they hiked back upstairs, Naomi had finished draping a new sheet over the bed.

“Thanks,” Dani murmured. “I really am sorry.”

Naomi grumbled, sitting on the bed’s edge with her head propped up on her palm. Dani settled cross-legged onto the mattress beside her. Shiloh wriggled, but Dani held her tight. “Naomi?”

She hummed sleepily.

“Thank you for being so patient with me.” Dani rubbed Shiloh’s ears, breathing deeply to subdue the fear creeping across her skin. “Did I ever tell you why it was so important to me that it was a beagle?”

“No,” Naomi murmured, sounding a little more awake. She turned and their gazes met.

Dani dipped her head to stare at Shiloh instead. “When I was in middle school, I read this book about a boy who rescued a beagle puppy from an abusive owner. That boy and the dog had this… unbelievable companionship. Them against the world. I thought sometimes about asking my parents for a dog. But I never did.” A hiccup cinched her throat. Shiloh perched her tiny puppy paws on Dani’s shoulders and licked her chin. “I knew if I had gotten that puppy, there was a chance it would have been abused the way I was. Like the dog in the book was. I didn’t want to take that risk, as desperately as I wanted that unconditional love.”

The sheets rustled as Naomi sat up. Dani’s breath caught as arms wrapped around her. Shiloh wiggled between them, still licking at the tears dripping down her jawline.

“Dani,” Naomi breathed, lips brushing her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Dani buried her head in the crook of the other’s neck. “Don’t be. Everything about my life that’s wonderful is because of you. I always want to be working toward giving as much as I get. If you give me a little time, I think I can get there.”

Naomi kissed her forehead. “I love you, Dani. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.” Dani winced, squeezing Shiloh a little tighter. “I-I might need to make an appointment. I don’t know.”

Naomi’s hand squeezed her shoulder. Caution hung off her words. “I think it’d be good. Things were better when you were going to therapy and taking medication. One day at a time, okay? We need to enjoy the puppy months. They don’t last forever, you know.”

Naomi lay back, opening her arms. Exhaustion of every sort stole over Dani. She collapsed onto the bed and Shiloh curled up between them.

---

“We don’t have to do this.” Naomi’s hand hovered over the car door handle as she glanced toward the passenger’s side.

“I know.” Dani held Shiloh snug in her arms. The gentle pressure against her chest kept her breathing even. “I want to.”

Naomi slipped out, rounded the car, and held the door open for her. Dani ducked into the street carrying Shiloh close. She kept her eyes trained on the ground. Naomi greeted the hostess, who led them through the outdoor bar. Dani couldn’t help but smile as they passed dogs on the patio. They looked up at her with bright eyes and wagging tails, distracting her from the ever-present tug in her chest.

“You okay?” Naomi whispered as they sat at their bar stools.

Dani nodded, giving Shiloh a little squeeze before letting her down onto the ground. “This was a good idea.” She watched as Shiloh crawled over to greet older, bigger dogs. “Such a sweet girl,” she murmured, giving the leash a little more slack as Shiloh rolled onto her back and exposed her belly to a curious dachshund.

Mustering strength, Dani raised her head. Her gaze coasted up Naomi’s bronzed bare legs to the hem of her orange sundress. When their eyes finally met, a smile crossed Naomi’s face. “Remember when you picked her out? She crawled right up into your lap and wouldn’t budge.”

Dani’s brow wrinkled. She wished she did remember; she didn’t intend on missing another moment like that, if she could help it. She glanced back down to where Shiloh circled underfoot with her nose to the ground. “I’m about to say something completely insane.”

“Anything I can get you, ladies?”

A stranger’s voice jerked Dani’s shoulders like an electric shock. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the bartender hovering across the counter. She gritted her teeth, face heating up as she blurted out, “Root beer, mojito, and a dog treat.”

“You got it.”

Dani heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped away. Naomi’s hand reached out to squeeze hers. Amusement ran thick in her voice as she prompted, “You were saying?”

“I, uh… might want to go back to school.”

“Oh, wow. For what?”

Dani fixed her eyes on Shiloh. It was easier to say almost anything while staring at a puppy. “Architecture.”

“You’d be amazing at that.”

A trickle of relief cooled the fear burning in Dani’s chest. She glanced up, wilting under Naomi’s intense stare. She fought to hold her gaze. “I’ll do the research into how much the degree would cost. I might have to adjust what I pay into our shared expenses though.”

Naomi hummed, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I don’t think it’s really appropriate for us to take on that sort of expense together.” Dani’s heart plummeted, only to somersault into her throat as Naomi added, “Unless we were married.”

The words squeezed the breath from Dani. She searched Naomi’s probing smile. Could it be she really wanted that? With her? It seemed ludicrous.

Every passing second sent a fresh wave of panicked adrenaline through Dani’s blood, until she blurted out, “Seems only right.” She pointed to Shiloh. “We have a kid together now.”

There was some pleasure in watching Naomi’s smile dissipate and her eyes pop wide open. “You’re serious?”

“I told you, Naomi. You’re everything wonderful about my life. I wouldn’t mind having a go at improving the rest, but…” Dani steeled herself and forced her wandering gaze to meet Naomi’s. “Locking you down is the smartest thing I could do.”

Naomi ducked her head, fingers twisting in her lap. A nervous chuckle slipped past her lips. “Alrighty. End of summer? If everything’s going well by then…” A hand clasped to her mouth as she gasped. “Oh no, Dani!”

She twisted to follow Naomi’s line of sight. Shiloh was squatting over someone’s shoe. Dani let loose an embarrassed squeak, tugging the pup away by the leash. Their apologies were met with a dismissive wave.

Dani turned to bury her searing face into Naomi’s shoulder, which shook with silent laughter. Like always, her embrace made it easier to bear. There would be mistakes and failures, big and small. But if Dani could resist the urge to run away, she might find herself better for it.

© 2025 Ana Wesley

[Issue 2025.72]

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