DISCLAIMER: Not mine. No money made. Maca, Esther and (to my great disappointment also Cruz), along with the entirety of Hospital Central, belong to Telecino. All I own is my brain and a very vivid imagination. I only lay claim to the journey I'm sending the characters on.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: After taking refuge in the Hospital Central fandom almost a year ago, I am delighted to see the growing interest for Maca and Esther in the international community, where Ralst's call for submissions finally convinced me to post this story here as well. It is originally being written in single chapters on the Spanish Maca y Esther board at miarroba (Ralst has kindly added the link to the HC link section, and if any of you speaks Spanish, I'd advise you to run and don't walk over there and take a look at the fan fic section) and is as of yet unfinished.
TIMEFRAME: uh… let's call it al Alternative AU, which is like an Über, but not quite. The Spanish folks on miarroba write nearly exclusively in this form.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By Nordica aka Nique Bartok

91

"What??!" Maca was flabbergasted.

Cruz cleared her throat. "Maca… how about we move this to my office." She stood up, leaving her barely touched salad on the table. "There is an official version for a reason," she muttered, leaving Maca no choice but to scramble after her with a regretful look at her half-eaten lunch.

"Cruz, what the hell happened…?" she asked with growing impatience.

"Not in here!" Cruz motioned with her head, encompassing the cafeteria. She only continued when they had left the main corridor and were closing in on her office, with nobody else in sight. "It seems Begoña never gave Esther a message that you had intended for her, if I understood it right." She opened the door to her office, waving at Maca to pass. "We had quite the situation here on Saturday." With a few quick motions she shrugged off her doctor's coat and left it over the back of a chair. "Why don't you get comfortable, this might take a while," she announced and after a moment's hesitation, Maca stripped of her own coat.

"Begoña did what?" she asked, edgily leaning against the corner of Cruz's desk.

"She didn't give Esther the little message that she should wait for you in Mbuji-Mayi," Cruz explained, watching how Maca's face turned ashen at the news. "To be fair, I think Begoña honestly believed you to have died in the explosion and ensuing fire and she said the only thing she promised you was to get Esther out of there, and she did." She crossed her arms over her chest, giving Maca an intent look. "But Esther claimed Begoña spoke to you before you went to work with the NGO in Tanzania?"

Maca nodded dazedly. "Yes – her email address was the only one I had, and I asked her to call me at the Headquarters in Mbuji-Mayi… and she did…"

"She failed to mention that little fact. To any of us," Cruz said with anger in her own voice. "She started working here when I was nearly eight months pregnant with Maca, and everyone knew that we were naming her in your honor, and yet she never said a word." She pushed her hair back out of her face with both hands, taking a deep breath. "Of course she didn't have to say anything, and perhaps she assumed that you talked to one of us as well, I don't know, but still…" She shook her head. "Esther was about to tear her limb from limb when she found out, and I can't say I blame her. If Hector hadn't stepped in…" Cruz exhaled slowly, leaving the phrase unfinished. "They didn't assign her the lion for nothing."

"Esther went at Begoña?" Maca asked with a slightly incredulous expression.

"Wilson!" Cruz all but shouted. "She thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead!" She gestured in aggravation, accidentally wiping a set of pens off her desk.

Maca bent down to pick them up, trying to do anything but acknowledge the sudden dizziness that assaulted her, as if something was knocking at the shell of her consciousness from the outside. "She also kind of walked in on Begoña trying to kiss me on Friday," she admitted sheepishly, placing the pens back on the desk. "I tried to talk to her afterwards, but then the multiple accident…"

"Holy shit, Wilson," Cruz interrupted her, having paled herself and staring at Maca's side where the shirt had ridden up momentarily when she had bent down.

"What?" Maca shifted uncomfortably under Cruz's gaze. The dizziness was making her head swim.

"Maca." Cruz walked closer, her movements deliberately slow. With an almost motherly gesture, she took Maca's face in her hands. "You nearly died." She motioned at Maca's side. "By the looks of it, it is a miracle you survived." Before Maca could react, Cruz had pulled her shirt up again, exposing Maca's scars: the hardened, near circular indention from the entrance wound and the angry, x-shaped red mark where the bullet had exploded out of her body.

Maca didn't react, remaining frozen to the spot, and suddenly, things were adding up for Cruz. "Do you remember these?" She questioned, now with a sharp edge to her tone, sensing that there was something Maca kept locked away. "Do you remember getting shot?"

"Stop it…" With clammy hands, Maca tried to ward off Cruz's touch, closing her eyes as if that could block out the images that were rising up from within her. "Stop it!"

"Do you remember the explosion?" Cruz didn't relent. "The one that cost Rodolfo his eye?"

"No, no…" Maca curled into herself, away from the questioning hands, the dizziness finally washing over her and leaving her caught up in a wave of nausea. Sudden tears were burning in her eyes and she had trouble to draw breath. "No…" she gasped, trying to fight the images, the smell of blood and fire, grabbing in vain for that curtain that Cruz had torn away from her mind and into pieces.

Cold sweat beaded her forehead and then she was rushing towards the small bathroom that was adjacent to Cruz office, losing her lunch.

Cruz was with her, holding her head and combing her hair out of her face, but Maca registered the touch as if through a fog, outside of the images that were burning against her eyelids.

"There's a reason I never touch anything except salad in that cafeteria," Cruz muttered under her breath, reaching for one of the soft towels she usually took to nurse baby Maca and held it underneath running water.

The remark cut through the haze around Maca, making her snort and subsequently choke again, once more sending her retching. Cruz kept stroking in soothing circles across her back, and placed the wet towel against Maca's neck, but it took long minutes to calm her.

"I almost died." Maca looked up with frightened eyes, her voice not more than a whimper. She curled closer into herself on the tiles of the small bathroom. "I almost died…"

"Yes, but you made it," Cruz said firmly, helping Maca stand up.

"I don't remember an explosion," Maca said, shaking her head. She reached up with one hand to hold the towel in place. "There was fire… I must have passed out, they must have dragged me away before the explosion…" Her side hurt, that same, carefully forgotten tearing pain that had accompanied her for so long, making her double over. Her hands reflexively flew to her hip as if she had to stop the bleeding all over again; the skin around the lion tattoo was too hot her touch. She couldn't see. "Oh my God…"

"Maca, what happened?" Cruz voice sounded as if from far away.

Gentle hands maneuvered her onto the couch across the room. "I couldn't move," Maca remembered. "I was cold… and they carried Esther onto the transporter…" She drew her brows together, trying to concentrate. "And then when I woke up… I only know I was thirsty, and I couldn't move, and my side burned…" A shudder ran through her and she looked up at Cruz. "I couldn't move…" she whispered.

"What did you do?" Cruz asked carefully, wrapping an arm around Maca's shoulders.

That was easy to answer. "I waited for Esther," Maca said immediately, her voice a lot more confident now. "I knew she would come… It made me hold on." Forgotten endless days pushed through to the surface of her mind, days of lying underneath the rustling roof of green, unable to move, an easy prey for the rebels, the pain in her side keeping her alert throughout her delirious daydreams. She recalled it all in vivid detail now, the fear, the helplessness, the thick sweat, and the sensation of waiting. "But she never came."

"Because she was back here with a malaria relapse, mourning your death," Cruz summarized with a shake of her head. "You two really make quite the pair." With a few quick steps, she walked over to the washing basin and filled a glass with water. "Drink this," she ordered. "But slowly."

"And Esther thought I was dead?" Maca asked forlornly, accepting the water glass.

Cruz shrugged. "They barely let her out of the hospital to attend your funeral."

"My funeral." Maca swayed a bit in her seat before she set down the glass hastily enough to make water splash over the rim. She rushed over to the bathroom again, heaving violently. Small, cold hands seemed to be clawing at her, pulling on her side and trying to drag her down with them. Only slowly, the warmth of Cruz's voice and the secureness of her touch permeated the state of shock Maca was in.

Slowly, Cruz helped her wash her face and wordlessly handed her a spare toothbrush. Somewhat calmed, Maca let Cruz lead her back to the sofa where she sat down with clattering teeth. It was as if now that she was safe and someone offered the care she would have needed back then, the strength she had drawn upon to survive fell away from her, leaving her weak and vulnerable.

"Why didn't this show in your psych evaluation?" Cruz was positively dumbfounded. "But of course, it makes perfect sense… you had to compartmentalize to survive. And if you compartmentalize it, it doesn't show unless triggered." She shook her head, looking at Maca as if she hadn't seen her for a very long time. "I'm sorry I didn't realize this sooner." Gently, she placed a hand on Maca's shoulder. "Did it never occur to you that people might think you had died?"

"No… not really." Maca shrugged forlornly. "I guess it never really struck me… even though it should have." She tugged the hem of her shirt down. "My parents believed I had died, but I thought it was because they hadn't spoken to anyone of you here."

"You excluded the possibility and blocked it out, so you could make it through," Cruz murmured, more to herself. "Classic pattern, actually." She nudged Maca's shoulder, sinking down onto the couch next to her. "Maca, I know this is tough, but you will have to deal with it. I don't want to put you on leave, but I want you to talk to Carlos first thing in the morning, all right?" She put an arm around Maca, hugging her close for a moment. "Don't worry, we'll get this sorted out."

But Maca had other concerns at the moment. "And Begoña told Esther I was dead?!" she repeated with a frown, trying to make sense of everything she had heard. "But she knew I wasn't," she argued. "I told her to get Esther out of there… and that I'd meet them in Mbuji-Mayi… it's the last thing I remember…" Maca still had trouble piecing everything together. "And Begoña told me Esther wasn't even looking for me…"

"How would she be looking for you, if she believed you were dead?" Cruz asked practically. "We all believed you were dead."

"But I talked to Begoña…" Maca shook her head, helplessly looking a Cruz. "And Esther was already living with Miguel."

"Esther had no place to go to after she was released from the hospital," Cruz reminded her. "And she was in no condition to go house-hunting. She was still in therapy, and battling depression."

"Begoña didn't say it was that bad," Maca muttered, aghast at the news. She should have been there. She shouldn't have cared whether Esther had stayed with Miguel or not, she should have been there, to help Esther as good as she could. "She only mentioned the relapse, but that it was over… and that she had moved in with Miguel. And at that point, I just lost it." All too clearly, she remembered now how she had hung up on Begoña, crushed by the news of Esther being with Miguel. "She knew I would lose it," Maca realized tonelessly, not knowing whether she was more mad at Begoña or at herself. "And Esther married Miguel…"

"Because you weren't here!" Cruz exclaimed. "Damn it, Wilson, don't give me that self-righteous Foreign Legion anger again!" The outburst startled Maca into silence. "You weren't here, you don't know how much Esther suffered because of you," Cruz continued heatedly. "She was hospitalized for months, unwilling to recover. At times, I wasn't sure whether she'd simply die on us!" At seeing the tears in Maca's eyes, she tried to gentle her tone. "Maca, if anyone ever loved anyone, that woman loves you. Rodolfo said they had to knock her out cold so they could carry her away when you were shot because she tried to crawl back to you."

"No…" Maca couldn't take it anymore, biting her lip to stop the sobs while tears kept rolling down her cheeks. "Please no…"

"Esther didn't have a depression because of the attack," Cruz said very softly, wanting to make things crystal clear. There had clearly been enough misunderstandings already. "She had it because she lost you."

"And Begoña never even told her what I said…?" Maca asked, her voice choked. Something inside of her was dying at the thought of what Esther had to have gone through. It hurt more than all the painful memories that Cruz had torn out into the open again. Her own pain, she had survived once already. But the mere thought of Esther in pain was killing her. "…she never told her?"

"I'm afraid not," Cruz allowed.

Maca jumped up, ice running along her veins. "I'll kill her," she swore, marching towards the door. "I'll kill her with my bare hands…"

Cruz reached out, holding Maca back by her coat sleeve. "Maca." She waited until Maca looked at her, not shying away from the rage in Maca's eyes. "As much as I understand your ire, don't you have more important things to take care of…?"

It took a moment longer until Maca consciously uncurled her hands and her shoulders slowly relaxed. "Yes," she conceded, her anger evaporating at the thought of Esther. "Yes, I do." She looked at Cruz again, her expression timid. "But… she's married now."

"Doesn't matter," Cruz decided. "You two need to talk."

92

Maca rushed through the corridors, seemingly endless long tunnels of white, hardly noticing the bodies that were moving out of her way left and right. She only knew that she had to find Esther.

Her hands were still trembling and she had clenched them into fists, feeling the tips of her fingers press unsteadily into her palms. It felt as if she were moving through cotton wool. She didn't see any of the people around her, looking only for that one face: Esther. It was strange that after she had placidly waited for years to have this conversation, now she couldn't wait even for another minute.

And the conditions had changed. Where she had believed that Esther had forgotten about her or had been too comfortably settled with Miguel to leave him, Maca now knew through Cruz that she had been wrong in her petty rancor. Esther hadn't left her. Rather, Esther had thought that Maca had left her for good, possibly going through the same heartache and the same desperation Maca had experienced.

She slowed her steps for a moment, not even conscious of the fact. If she had indeed only been an affair for Esther, there would have been nothing of the pain and depression Cruz had mentioned and for a split second, Maca almost wished it had been nothing but Jungle Fever, just to spare Esther all that hurt.

It was a hurt that Maca only knew to well, but at least she had always had a place to direct her emotions: anger at a recovered Esther who had left her, lack of understanding at her decision, heartbreak at imagining her with Miguel. But it had always been about Esther, alive and breathing, even if Esther had been far away and with someone else. Maca tried to imagine what she would have felt like if Esther had died from her malaria relapse, and she couldn't finish the thought, dizzily steadying herself on the nearest wall.

It was unthinkable.

She shook her head, trying to clear the icy cobwebs from her mind as she hurried on. She couldn't even fathom what Esther must have gone through. For Maca, things had been different: just as she had ignored the fact of her own mortality, she had ignored Esther's as well with an unquestioned confidence that had allowed her to survive. Esther hadn't had that luxury.

Everything that Cruz had made her remember filled Maca with nausea, as if she were standing close to a gaping chasm that was so deep that she couldn't see the bottom of it, but none of those images mattered now. Her hands might still be trembling from the shock, but the only thought Maca had was of Esther. She should have traveled after her, she told herself, despite having had neither papers nor money. She should have been swimming, then. It seemed frivolous now that she had ever trusted Begoña with her message, Begoña who had been jealous about Esther long before Maca had known herself that she was in love with her. A new rush of ire tore through Maca but she pushed it away, remembering Cruz's words that she had more important things to do than go after Begoña.

The only thing that mattered now was finding Esther. She had to talk to her, to explain, to apologize… Maca couldn't even put into words what she felt the need to apologize for in detail, but she needed Esther to know that she was sorry for every last bit of pain she had gone through because of her.

The image of Esther trying to crawl through the chaos of the attack rose up unbidden, cut out clearly in Cruz's simple, blunt description, and Maca felt terribly ashamed for ever having doubted Esther. Tears were blurring her vision as she rounded another corner and rushed down another corridor as another image assaulted her, Esther sitting forlornly in a pew at her funeral. Maca gasped as the sensation of earlier in Cruz's office returned, the feeling of small icy hands clawing at her, trying to pull her under. She didn't know what she would have done if it had been her who would have had to attend Esther's funeral.

All that Maca wanted to do now was to ease all the pain Esther had suffered, to comfort her and make her smile again.

But of course, Esther was smiling again already. Once more, Maca slowed her steps, halted by the sinking feeling that she was coming too late. It was not her place to make Esther smile, not anymore. She didn't know if Esther would allow her close enough to try and at least recover their friendship, or if she even could bridge any of the gap between them.

Perhaps now, there was no pain left that Esther would need any consolation or apology about. Esther had dealt with her loss and from what Cruz had said, it had taken a long time. She had survived, older and a little hardened, and now she was smiling again and she had a husband who picked her up after stressful shifts even if it was the middle of the night. Again, the image of Miguel in the entrance hall rose to the forefront of Maca's mind, the way he had kissed Esther and taken her into his arms.

Maca knew she had no chances, but it wasn't about chances even. Neither was it about telling Esther that she still loved her, it was too late for that. But even if Esther was happy now, Maca felt the need to apologize for the pain she had gone through, at a time where Maca should have been by her side instead of waiting for her in a rebel camp, full of irrational hope.

She had no idea whether Esther was on shift or not, whether she had worked the night or would start late in the afternoon, but it didn't matter to Maca, she would simply borrow one of Teresa's gossip magazines and wait for her, all day if necessary. Or perhaps Esther had the day off. Maca paused for a second until she nodded with determination. In that case, she would cajole Esther's home address out of Teresa and she would go there to talk to her. Maca changed her steps, rushing towards the hall and Teresa's counter. She didn't care at the moment whether Miguel would be at the apartment, as well, she only knew that she needed to talk to Esther and she would humbly ask Miguel to grant her that privilege, if that was what it took.

Teresa looked at the tall figure that came all but running into the entrance hall. "The Foreign Legion is on the warpath," she announced, looking over the rim of her glasses. "I wonder what's eating her now?"

"A new patient?" Rusti suggested practically next to her.

"No." Teresa gestured at the admittance files in front of her. "No sick child in the waiting area, and none on emergency arrival."

"Hmm…" Rusti moved to stand next to Teresa, leaning with his elbows on the nearest stack of files while he watched Maca.

"She's coming here," Teresa hissed, nudging the stocky nurse in the side. "Be a little more unobtrusive at least!"

"Teresa… do you know where Esther is?" Maca asked breathlessly before she had even stopped in front of the counter. Inwardly, she was chanting for Esther to please be on shift, to please be close by because she might just pass out if she couldn't talk to her in the next few minutes.

"She worked early morning shift," Teresa replied smoothly, wondering what on earth Esther might have to do with Maca's disarrayed state. "I think she's just about to leave, she went to the nurses' changing rooms a minute ago…"

Maca sighed with relief. "Thank you." To Teresa's utmost surprise, she leaned across the counter, a huge smile beginning to spread over her face, and kissed the baffled receptionist soundly on the cheek. "Teresa, you're a god-sent," she declared before she rushed off in the direction of the changing rooms, leaving a bewildered Teresa staring after her.

"You're blushing," Rusti observed cheerfully when Teresa remained frozen to the spot.

Teresa reached up to touch her cheek in reflex. "Oh, shut up."

"You know what they say about her," Rusti murmured, looking after Maca's retreating form with admiration. "She's unmarried, doesn't have a boyfriend, and she always lets the pretty female nurses enter the elevator first…"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Teresa sputtered, her blush intensifying further. "That's just gossip, I can't believe you're listening to it…"

"Just gossip?" Rusti echoed with a laugh. "You're one to talk!" He dodged Teresa's elbow and then leaned closer again with a pensive expression. "Hmm… She was looking for Esther?"

"Yes," Teresa answered automatically, only then understanding his insinuation. She frowned in consternation.

Rusti shrugged. "They were together in Africa… out of nowhere…"

"No." Teresa shook her head. "Esther is married!"

"She wasn't married back then," Rusti pointed out. "And you said yourself that she's been in a rare mood for days."

"Since the Wilson daughter started here," Teresa mused, counting back the days. "No. That can't be…"

Unaware of what was being said about her, Maca hurried on, now slowed down by a limp again that was probably more due to the tension and her state of shock than the actual strain. Pressing her lips together against the dull pain in her shin that made her leg heavy, Maca moved on. Esther hadn't left her, she told herself. She might be married to Miguel now, she might never have broken up with him, but at least she had never outwardly decided to be with Miguel instead of her. It was just a small consolation, but it made Maca feel infinitely better.

Of course, she would have liked it if Esther had left Miguel, no matter what, but even in her jealousy, Maca knew that she would never want Esther to be alone and in pain. But like this, knowing that perhaps Esther had only stayed with Miguel because she had thought Maca dead, Maca finally could believe in Esther again, and in what they had shared. It didn't even matter that it was over now, lost for good, as long as she knew that it had been real, for Esther as much as for her. It hadn't been just Jungle Fever.

Maca smiled, a little incredulous at how good this felt, but the smile slipped from her lips as she realized with nervousness that she was standing in front of the door to the nurses' room.

"No chickening out now, Wilson," she told herself sternly and she was surprised to find that she sounded a lot like Vilches. She wiped her palms on her jeans and then moved to knock on the door, opening it immediately before anyone inside could have told her yes or no.

And there was Esther, just like Teresa had said. She was alone, sitting on the simple wooden bench in the middle of the room with her back to Maca, her upper body clad only in a bra.

She must have been changing to go home, Maca realized, looking at the shirt in Esther's hand. Her knuckles were bruised.

Esther had reflexively turned around at the sound of the opening door, half-heartedly reaching up with her free hand to cover her body and letting it sink again when she saw who was standing in the door.

But Maca could only stare at her, at her pale, serious face and the sad expression in her eyes, and then she couldn't stop herself, her gaze sliding down Esther's body, this coveted body that she missed so much and had dreamt of touching again for endless months. A small, whisper-thin necklace wound around Esther's neck and Maca stopped breathing when she recognized the shiny black pendant that was nestled in between Esther's breasts, the tiny diamond teeth of the leopard's head glinting in the harsh overhead light.

93

It was with an aching back that Esther finally entered the changing rooms, but still she preferred being back at work to the awkward free Sunday she had been subjected to yesterday. It hadn't been easy to try and explain to Miguel how she had gotten the bruises on her right hand and the scrapes along her forearms. She didn't want to lie to him, but he had been staring at her in disbelief nonetheless when she had told him that she had ended up in a fight with a colleague with whom she had been working peacefully for more than a year and whom, which he found even more illogical, she already knew from her time in Africa. Her explanation that it had been about something that happened in the Congo and that only Maca's return had uncovered didn't seem to add up for him either. The mood had been awkward afterwards and they had ended up arguing over something as insignificant as the TV program for the evening. Ever since Maca had come back, Esther felt her marriage with Miguel slipping through her fingers. Much as she tried to be honest and considerate, they suddenly ended up fighting a lot more and when she made an extra effort, he tended to be uncharacteristically snappy.

So it was with relief that Esther had gone back to work today, leaving a sleeping Miguel behind when she got up for the early morning shift. And she had worked overtime again right away, finishing up more than two hours late now. There hadn't been any urgent cases for her, but she wanted to avoid the stares and whispers in the changing room at the regular end of the shift.

Even though Cruz tried to keep the altercation on Saturday under wraps – and Esther knew she owed Cruz big time for it, she could just as well have been fired for it or ended up in front of the hospital board – with Hector having had to step in and Begoña having to be treated, it was all over the ER.

What worked in Esther's favor was probably the fact that Cruz was mad as hell at Begoña herself over not having told anyone that Maca was alive. Cruz loved Maca fiercely, enough to name a child after her, and Esther had seen on many occasions how Cruz did mourn Maca almost as much as she did herself, as if she had lost a younger sister.

When Esther had gone in search of Begoña on Saturday, it had been a spontaneous decision. At first, she had tried to find Maca and when she had learned that Maca was off shift she had gone as far as looking up her phone number and address, but Maca's mobile had been switched off and in the end Teresa had told her that Maca had gone to see her family over the weekend since it was the birthday of her nephews.

Esther's first reaction had been happiness; she was relieved to know that apparently, Maca was on speaking terms with her family again, something that she knew Maca had longed for even though she had always tried to downplay her emotions when it came to the rupture with her parents. But as Esther realized that Maca was visiting her family again, that she had been in contact with Begoña while she was still in Africa, she was finding herself more and more irate. It seemed like everybody had known Maca was alive, everyone except those who loved her most, Cruz and Vilches and herself. She remembered Maca's unfinished explanations and decided to ask Begoña about it.

And in the beginning, it had been just that, asking her what she knew, but there was something condescending in Begoña's answers that made Esther become angrier by the minute. The way she said that no, of course she had believed Maca dead, and that yes, Maca had called her, that she had even given Maca Esther's number. And it wasn't her fault, after all, if Maca had decided not to use it.

"You're lying," Esther had stated, her trembling fingers clenched into fists. Maca would have called her, given the chance. But then there was the small voice of doubt in her mind, pointing out how Maca hadn't come back to Spain to look for her, either, instead preferring to take on another job in Africa. And the little fact that Maca hardly talked to her, but was kissing Begoña in the nurses' lounge.

"Why would I need to lie?" Begoña had said with an easy shrug. "Ask Maca about it if you want to. My best guess is that she didn't want to intrude on yours and Miguel's happiness."

"Miguel…" Esther had repeated tonelessly. She had looked at Begoña aghast, unable to believe that she could have been that cunning. "You told her I was with Miguel?"

Begoña had just given her an arch look. "Weren't you?"

And there was nothing she could reply to that, Esther had realized in helpless anger, mad more at herself and her own weakness than at anyone else. If only she hadn't clung to Miguel in her loneliness, Begoña would have had nothing to tell to Maca, and Maca might have come home to her. She couldn't even fault Begoña for this, this was her own doing and she knew it, and Begoña knew it as well.

It was seeing Begoña's self-satisfied grin at her devastation that had made her lose it and she had lunged at Begoña out of nowhere, surprising them both. And if Esther was honest, she didn't know what would have happened if Hector hadn't heard the noises of toppled medical trays and the dull thud of a body against the metal doors of a medical cabinet and had barged in, quickly realizing that he needed to pull Esther off Begoña if he wanted to avoid any casualties. She had struggled against his hold, blind with rage, dimly hearing a tearful Begoña complain to someone else about her, but she had hardly heard the whine over the sound of the blood that was still hammering past her ears.

And then there had been Cruz, Cruz and her calming presence, and in her secure hold, Esther had slowly quieted down, struggling to explain what had occurred which had led to Cruz almost losing her calm. She had asked Esther to wait for her and when she had come back nearly an hour later, finding a shattered Esther on the couch in her office, she had told her to go home for the weekend, and not to worry, that she had everything under control. And that Begoña, due to an unfortunate accident, was on sick leave and had furthermore decided to look for employment elsewhere.

Esther had mumbled her thanks, ashamed and knowing that she didn't deserve this rescue, but Cruz had simply hugged her and sent her on her way.

And here she was, back at work on a Monday morning. And, thanks to Cruz, she still had a job. Esther had walked by their apartment with a huge bouquet of flowers yesterday, making Vilches grumble something about raising the standards and that she better not look to closely at Cruz. Esther had actually had to laugh at that and in the end, it had been a normal dinner, one much like the countless others they had shared already, with baby Maca falling asleep in Esther's lap, her fingers still clutched around the toy car she had been playing with.

As for the older Maca, Cruz had told Esther in no uncertain terms that they needed to resolve the situation, she wouldn't be able to cover up for Esther a second time. Esther had sworn that there wouldn't be another incident like this, but as for resolving the situation, she had no idea how to even approach Maca now. If Maca had had to learn through Begoña that Esther was living with Miguel – and in the first months it really hadn't been more than that, though God knew what Begoña had made of it – her aloof behavior against Esther suddenly made a lot more sense. And much as Esther tried to rationalize it, the feeling remained that she had cheated on Maca, that she had betrayed her and what they had shared by staying with Miguel. Even though she had believed Maca to be dead, she should have broken up with him, or at least told him that she had fallen in love with someone else, but she had felt so lost and desperate that she had accepted the comfort he offered. It had been selfish, and she knew it, and now she was paying for it. She had lost Maca and any chance of regaining what they had once shared and her guilty conscience against Miguel plagued her every time she glanced at the wedding ring on her hand, instinctively thinking it didn't belong there and then berating herself for the thought. She had promised to love him, and he more than deserved all of her affections. Only she couldn't stop thinking about Maca.

If Maca had known about her and Miguel before she had gone to Tanzania, it might have been one of the reasons why she had not come home. And in two years of Tanzania, Maca certainly had found someone else, even if just for a while. Esther didn't have many illusions about a woman like Maca remaining on her own for long, even if she was somewhere out in the wilderness. Of course, Esther had no idea whom Maca might be seeing now. Perhaps someone she had met it Tanzania. She still hoped that there wasn't anything to the kiss with Begoña she had witnessed, but she couldn't be sure. With how she tended to avoid Maca, she didn't know whom she mentioned to other people, who called her or who picked her up after shift. Today, Esther had been tempted to try and ask Teresa whether she knew anything, but in the end she hadn't done it, not sure she wanted to know. It wouldn't change anything, anyway. Maca was barely speaking to her, and Esther was married to Miguel.

She was weary and tired in a way that had nothing to due with the strenuous shift she had worked. Ever since Maca had returned, ever since she had seen her name on the billboard at the congress, Esther felt lost and even the admittedly satisfying crack of Begoña's nose against her knuckles had done nothing to alleviate her state of mind. She knew she had to do something, and soon, but she still didn't know what that should be. Talk to Miguel perhaps, a thing she dreaded, more so because she didn't even understand her own feelings, much less felt capable of explaining them to him. And Miguel would be incredulous or angry or both, and they would only end up arguing again.

And Maca…

A knock on the door interrupted Esther's brooding and she reached reflexively for her shirt, thinking it was Hector or Aimé in search of a nurse. The other nurses usually just walked in. Whoever it was now would have to look for another colleague, Esther decided. She was already on overtime and the only thing she would do right now was go home and take a nice long shower, thank you very much. But every reply died on her lips when the door opened and Maca stepped into the room.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other and only slowly, Esther realized that Maca was out of breath, as if she had been running. Of course, after her weekend vacation, Maca had probably only just heard that she had punched Begoña out and for a moment, Esther wondered whether Maca was as shocked as she looked like. But there was something else in her gaze as well, a certain wildness that sent something trickling down Esther's spine, something close to fright, but not quite. This was the first time Maca was looking at her, really looking at her, since Africa, Esther thought dizzily, and again, she was lost in those eyes, unable to tear herself away from the other things she thought to see shimmer through Maca's agitated expression: Hope. Humility. Tenderness.

This was the Maca she knew, the Maca she had fallen in love with, with no reserve in her gaze and no distant cold against her, and for a moment, right there underneath the unforgiving light of the neon lamps above, Esther was home. Looking at Maca like this, it was unimaginable that Esther had believed she could ever be with anyone else and again, there was the sensation of shame, as if she had betrayed Maca.

And Maca's eyes were still on her, urgent and warm, with none of the indifference of the past week. The gaze was giving Esther no chance to hide, it was sliding over her body, taking in her bruised knuckles, and coming to rest on her torso and Esther felt her cheeks grow warm when she became conscious of her state of undress. A gentle, nervous flutter ghosted through her stomach as she remembered what it felt like to have Maca's eyes on her like this, and she had to admit that while she might have forgotten about it, her body clearly hadn't.

She shifted on the bench, making the warmed ebony of her necklace pendant brush against her skin, and only then she realized that Maca's stare wasn't aimed at her body. It was directed at the small leopard's head.

Startled, Esther reached for it, glancing down at the familiar piece of ebony for a moment, and when she looked up again, Maca's gaze had shifted, seeming soft and uncertain now, and imbued with so much affection that Esther couldn't help but gasp.

Slowly, Maca moved towards her and Esther could see that she was limping again. This time, there was no try on Maca's part not to show it, no feigned indifference, just a tired walk that was a little heavier, with no pretense at all. Esther couldn't have explained the wild rush of tenderness that filled her at this sight, but she had to blink back tears that were pricking against her eyelids.

And then Maca's left leg seemed to slip away underneath her, leaving her with her shin cricked for a moment before she landed heavily on her knees.

Before there even was the image in Esther's mind, there was the sensation of fear and despair that had accompanied it: when she had seen Maca hit by the bullet, sliding down the wall of the loam hut in slow motion, falling. And Esther couldn't help it this time, the tears were running down her cheeks before she had even had the time to stop it. And when Maca looked up from where she was kneeling in front of her, Esther could see that she was crying as well.

In the silence she could hear Maca draw an unsteady breath, the only other sound in the room the minuscule buzz of the neon lights above and the quite whoosh of the air conditioning, but then all the sounds faded awake when Maca spoke.

"Esther… I'm sorry."

94

Esther could only stare at Maca, thrown by hearing her name fall from those lips again. The whole scenario seemed unreal to her, Maca kneeling in front of her, so close, and for a few seconds, she was back at the hospital, imagining scenario upon scenario to bring Maca back to her, but all of them faded into nothingness in front of her eyes. "Maca…" she whispered, trying to speak only to realize that she couldn't. At this close distance, she was assaulted by memories – fighting with Maca when she had just arrived in Kasaï-Oriental, and, later, sharing cigarettes with her after bad operations, and, later still, lying curled up with her in the dark, the sound of the rain on the roof above, making plans for a future they had never had. Esther remembered holding hands with Maca underneath the table, not caring about the amused smiles of their colleagues and then the long months in the hospital, again and again reaching for those hands, struggling to realize that they wouldn't be there anymore, never again.

But while Esther remained struck speechless, Maca knew what she had to do. And she would do it right. "When I got shot…" she began, only to stop again, trying to suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. She pushed away the images Cruz's insistence had awoken, telling herself that she would have time to deal with them later. The only one who mattered right now was Esther who seemed to be listening closely. It was her one chance to explain herself and Maca knew it, cutting to the chase before another emergency could interrupt them. "When I got shot, I made Begoña promise me that she would get you out of there. And I told her to tell you that I would catch up with you in Mbuji-Mayi." The words seemed stark and roughhewn to Maca's ears, their delivery awkward, but she hoped that they could not be misunderstood. "It never occurred to me that she wouldn't tell you."

Esther shook her head. "It didn't occur to me, either," she murmured, more to herself.

"It took me months to get back to Mbuji-Mayi," Maca stated simply. There was no time for the details, not now. They didn't matter. "I was in the jungle…" Maca hesitated, remembering Karim and Adanna and little Ma-Ka, and getting water from the river with Sefu. There was so much that had happened, that she wanted Esther to know, but this wasn't about her story or her struggles. It was about alleviating Esther's. "I can't tell you how I got there, but my best guess is that they dragged me out before the grenade explosion." More images rose up in Maca's mind, green silhouettes and glinting metal, leaving her nauseous for a few seconds. "I couldn't move for a long time," she said finally, the sparse phrase not even beginning to cover the impatience and the fear she had felt in those weeks, and, again and again, the irrational hope that Esther might come for her. "And when I made it back to Mbuji-Mayi, there was no note from you… nothing…"

Esther connected the dots. "You could believe I would forget you?" she whispered incredulously. "That I had stopped caring about you?" She shook her head, looking at Maca with disbelief. "Shame on you Maca… shame on you for not trying to get back…"

Maca swallowed the urge to defend herself. She could have tried to shift the blame to Begoña but she knew that Begoña's insinuations only had succeeded because she hadn't trusted Esther enough. The realization was bitter. "I spoke to Begoña and she told me you had moved in with Miguel," Maca said as neutrally as she could. She hesitated before she continued. "So I thought you had left us in the jungle…"

"After all we had been through?" Esther blinked, aghast at the misunderstanding. "Why didn't you try to contact me?"

"I did try!" This time, Maca protested before she could stop herself. "Begoña gave me your phone number, I didn't believe her, but when I called, there was your voice and it said 'Esther and Miguel'…" She couldn't help it, there was reproach in her voice, even though she knew now that Esther had presumed her dead. But underneath, there was still the sensation of standing in the office of the Mbuji-Mayi headquarters, the skeptical look of the office worker and the feeling as if everyone around her had left her. "After that, I wrote you letters, asking you what had happened…"

"I never got any letters!" Esther exclaimed angrily.

"No," Maca admitted, raising her hands in a calming gesture. "I know that now. They all ended up at your stupid former clinic."

"No…" Esther covered her mouth with a hand. So close to her Maca had been, so close and yet lost to her and she had married Miguel and not the woman who was kneeling on the floor in front of her, the one for whom she would have gone to hell and back. She still would, she corrected herself, berating herself for not thinking of the clinic. It had been the only address of hers Maca could have known; why had she fought for a search expedition and hadn't thought about such a simple detail?

"So I thought you didn't want me anymore…" Maca concluded forlornly. "You never even broke up with Miguel," she added, trying to sound neutral.

"I thought you were dead!" Esther yelled. "You were dead," she repeated helplessly, quietly, her voice interrupted by desolate sobs. "Goddamnit, Maca, I went to your fucking funeral!"

"I know," Maca said soothingly. "I know." She reached out with a hand in reflex, almost touching Esther's knee, but then let it sink again at the last moment. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't know anything," Esther continued, surprised at her own anger that she long since had believed to be a thing of the past. "There was nothing between Miguel and me for months, nothing!" There were still tears running down her cheeks even though she was shouting now. "I simply had no other place to go, and he took care of me while you were gallivanting through Tanzania!"

"You know why I took the post on the border?" Maca replied hotly. "Because I had no place to go to without you! And for all I knew, you were gone… back with him…"

At first, Esther wanted to scoff at that but at seeing the tears that stood in Maca's eyes, she took a deep breath and slowly shook her head. "Maca… never," she said with gentle insistence. "How could you think I would go back to him if I would have had the slightest idea you were still alive?" she queried. "When you found no note from me, how could you presume anything else than that I believed you dead?"

"I don't know…" Maca replied helplessly. It seemed farfetched to her now, now that she was here with Esther who still wore the totem talisman she had given her. Maca didn't dare to think about what it might mean. Back then, when she would still have had a chance, she had been too scared to lose Esther to let herself believe in her love. She felt for words in the silence around them. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

Much as Esther wanted to believe that she wouldn't have done the same thing, given the circumstances, she wasn't too sure of it. She recalled her jealousy at Maca's nameless colleagues in Tanzania and knew that a few vague remarks by Begoña might very well have been enough to send her over the edge as well. She tried to imagine calling Maca and hearing a foreign woman's voice on her answering machine, and she knew she couldn't blame Maca. Both of them had trusted each other too little, making it all too easy for Begoña to further the misunderstandings between them. "She told me you were dead," Esther said with defeat in her voice. "It was the first thing she told me when I woke up in the hospital in Mbuji-Mayi. She said that you had died instantly…" Esther shook her head, again fighting against tears. "And I believed her! I saw you getting shot… and I couldn't get to you… I couldn't…"

This time, Maca's hand ended up on Esther's knee, stroking soothingly. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" She didn't want to think about how close she had actually come to dying, she still couldn't. "But we both made it," she pointed out. "We both made it out of there…"

"Yes, and now everyone knew!" Esther exclaimed, the images blurring in her mind. "You talk to Begoña, enough to let her kiss you, you visit your parents… did everyone except me know you were alive?"

"No… no…" Maca stilled the motion of her hand, but she didn't take it away, not as long as Esther let her touch her. "Just Begoña." She frowned. "And I didn't kiss her, she came at me out of nowhere." She looked at Esther intently, wanting to leave no uncertainty about this. Only when Esther nodded – a minuscule gesture, but Maca accepted it – she went on. "I thought she had told you. I thought you all knew!" Unconsciously, she began to stroke across Esther's thigh, trying to calm Esther with the touch as much as herself. "I didn't know you thought me dead… I didn't think about it. I blocked out the possibility," she repeated Cruz's diagnosis. "And… there are things that I don't remember very well yet." She hesitated, struggling with her pride. She didn't want to look like a nutcase in front of Esther. "Cruz says it is a posttraumatic reaction of denial and when she forced me to remember it, I got sick all over her office. More or less." She saw that Esther had to smile a little at this, and even though it was at her own expense, Maca was happy about it. "I never allowed myself to think that people could believe I was dead," she continued. Now came the hard part. "Cruz says I will have to go into counseling to sort it out." She waited for a few moments, but there was no judgment in Esther's expression, no condescension. She simply nodded.

"Maca, we all went into counseling after what happened," Esther said warmly, knowing Maca well enough to interpret her hesitancy correctly. "Cruz even made Vilches go because he wouldn't stop blaming himself."

"Well, yeah, but I always resolve all my issues by myself," Maca said obstinately.

This time, Esther smiled for real. "Well yeah, but guess what, you don't have to," she pointed out gently.

Maca blushed a little at that and she had to look away for a moment. "Oh, and my parents didn't know," she continued their earlier thread of conversation. "I went there after I got out of recovery here and they had put up a tombstone in the…"

Esther didn't let her finish. "What do you mean, you were in recovery… here?"

"When they flew me in with blood poisoning, they brought me to the Central," Maca said, only then realizing that this had to be a shock for Esther, much like it had been for her when Cruz had told her just who was the head nurse around here. "Aimé treated me, that is how he asked me to speak at the congress." Her hands were still on Esther's thighs and Esther made no motion to remove them. "I didn't know you were working here," Maca added very gently. "And I never saw you…"

"Penélope Fernandez…" Esther muttered tonelessly. "The doctor from Africa…" She remembered Monica's insistence she talk to her and couldn't believe how close Maca had been to her and suddenly she was angry again, angry at her own reluctance to speak to the unknown patient. "Why did you use a wrong name?" she asked, more harshly than she intended, but her ire wasn't directed at Maca.

"No, it was in my papers…" Maca corrected her, making Esther look at her askance. "After the attack, I had no papers," Maca pointed out. "Everything was burnt. And in Mbuji-Mayi, they didn't have any files on me, either. They had had suffered a grenade attack in the riots before the elections and I had no way of proving who I was. Not even the personnel at the bank remembered me, not even after all the money I had drawn for Azuka." Now she almost had to chuckle at the memory. "But I think I looked a bit more run down at that point than the European doctor of a few months before that."

Esther didn't think this was amusing at all. "Why didn't you contact me, Miguel or not?" she asked heatedly, hating the idea of Maca alone and helpless in a strange country, with no money and no one to vouch for her. "And even if you didn't want to ask me, why didn't you contact your parents?" Maca just gave her an arch look and Esther didn't know whether she should be charmed or angry in reaction. "You really are the most stubborn, pig-headed…"

"I know," Maca agreed readily, and she had to smother a smile at Esther's reaction that just made her realize once more how much she had missed her. But Esther still clearly didn't consider any of this funny, so Maca tried to tell the rest of the tale soberly. "So… I went to work at a clinic at the Tanzanian border where they didn't ask for papers. Or much else." She remembered those first agonizing months under Cjelko, not understanding how she had ever been able to put up with it. Esther had to be right, she really was pig-headed. "The chief there dubbed me Penélope, and I never cared enough to correct him, so it stuck. And when I finally got papers again, after he was killed, they put the name in there…" Maca trailed off, noting too late that Esther had paled at the mentioning of Cjelko being killed. She continued quickly, not wanting Esther to worry, although the idea that Esther still cared enough about her to do that was a dangerous lure for the hopes that she should have buried the moment she had learned that Esther was married to Miguel. "I didn't get proper papers again until I went to Jeréz." Maca smiled with chagrin, acknowledging the irony of the situation. "If it wasn't for my father's connections, I still wouldn't have any."

"He loves you, you know," Esther pointed out, feeling the need to defend the man who had listened to her concerns about Maca and who, with quiet poise, had spent amounts of money that Esther wouldn't earn in a lifetime on a search expedition, even though the chances had been bad to begin with. "He may be just as stubborn and irritable as you are, but he loves you." With a raised hand, she stopped Maca who had opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak. "He sent an independent search party to Kasaï-Oriental. He organized and funded the whole expedition…"

"Yes, Jero told me." Maca nodded, and then shrugged helplessly. "But he doesn't speak about it. He treats me as if he never threw me out of the house, but we don't really talk."

"And we were looking for you there and you were somewhere in the jungle!" Esther still couldn't believe that Maca had been there, alive, even though it had been a scenario that she had tried to conjure up many times, berating herself afterwards for torturing herself further with visions of Maca's return.

"Yes, in a guerilla camp, with Amobi and Sefu…" Maca looked at Esther questioningly. "The boy we operated on?"

"How could I forget?" Esther remembered the evening light outside and the glint of Amobi's gun as if it had been yesterday, the metallic scrape of the safety being slid off, and Maca's scared eyes across the dim room. That night, for the first time, she had really looked into Maca's eyes, surprised by the warmth they possessed.

"I think they recognized me and dragged me out before the explosion… or perhaps it was Karim. Karim was there as well." The situation seemed so absurd to Maca now that she found it amusing in retrospect. "It was Karim's old village, the rebels had taken it over… did you know he is half a shaman?"

"No, but the guerilla thing explains his knife throwing abilities," Esther muttered, remembering the snake in her quarters that Karim had killed and then suddenly, out of nowhere, she was crying again. "So much happened. You were in so much danger!" She shrugged helplessly, wiping at the tears that kept falling. "And I don't know any of it. I don't know anything about you anymore…"

"Don't cry," Maca pleaded, the anguish in Esther's tone tearing right through her. "Please don't cry…" She wound her hands around Esther's knees without even thinking about what she was doing as her own vision started to become blurry with tears. "I'm so sorry…"

She hugged Esther's legs to her, burying her face against Esther's thighs. She couldn't stop crying now, the feeling of the once so familiar body under her hands reminding her all the more of just what she had lost, and how much she had missed Esther. She held on, clinging to her, tears still streaking down her cheeks and seeping into fabric of Esther's pants.

95

Dazedly, Esther looked down at Maca, struggling to comprehend the image – Maca who was crying, clinging to her knees, Maca who said she was sorry. But she was the one who had married someone else, Esther thought, she should be apologizing, but it was difficult to think with Maca so close to her and with all the emotions she stirred up. Part of her seemed to understand only now that Maca was indeed alive, now that Maca's body was pressed against her own, warm and alive, breathing, and trembling with sobs. Esther's whole being seemed to pulsate in reaction, like the string of an instrument that had been plucked by an all too knowing hand in passing, and she dizzily reasoned that this was what touches were supposed to feel like, this and nothing else.

And despite all that which had happened, Maca was here, at her feet, and Esther looked at her with wonder. Slowly, half afraid to scare Maca away and half afraid Maca might vanish into thin air like she had done so many times before, leaving her empty-handed, Esther reached out to stroke a finger across a stray lock of Maca's hair that ran across her thigh. It was smooth and cool under her fingertip, endlessly familiar, and it did not fade away when she touched it.

More confidently, Esther moved to stroke through Maca's hair, so softly that at first it was not more than a ghost of a touch. She exhaled shakily when Maca's arms wrapped around her legs more tightly in reaction. Her sobs lessened under Esther's soothing hands.

It was a tentative way of being together again, not premeditated and with no aim, just breaths and the warmth of their bodies that at once were so familiar to each other and yet oddly strange, like walking back into an old home after years, recognizing the faded patterns of the furniture, and brushing the dust off the boards.

They still could talk with such ease, Esther marveled. And yet, she still didn't quite know what was happening although perhaps part of her had realized it already, a part that was beyond reason and words.

She didn't have to think when she reached to cup Maca's face in her hands, gently lifting it up to look at her. The gesture was humble, achingly simple and yet it had something sacred.

Maca's eyelashes were still wet with tears but her eyes held the same warmth Esther remembered and for a second, she was back in Africa, looking at Maca in the dark while rain poured down into the courtyard from the muted white clouds above.

From there, it was just a tiny step to drawing Maca's face a little closer and she did it without questioning her own movements, leaning in to bridge the last bit of distance between them. And then her lips were on Maca's, tentative and achingly sweet, more a welcome than anything else.

And it was home. It didn't take more than the simple graze of Esther's lips against her own to let Maca arrive where she had unbeknownst yearned to be for the past long years. She knew that nothing between them was resolved and piecing together what had kept them apart did not bring them back together, she knew that, but she was helpless to stop the magic. And it was magic, and also the most tender touch Maca had ever known.

Only when Esther drew back, her lips sliding along Maca's with the motion, did the energy shift and Maca was left in the echo of this kiss, recognizing in it all the other kisses they had shared. It left her body awake and longing, suddenly terribly conscious of Esther's state of undress. She looked at the small leopard's head that lay nestled in between the curves of Esther's breasts and barely dared to breathe when she reached out, touching the familiar pendant with two fingertips. The ebony was warm to her touch and she smiled involuntarily. It was by accident that in drawing back, one of her finger pads brushed against the bare skin of Esther's stomach, soft and hot in a way that made Maca's insides tremble. Her gaze was heavy when she slowly trailed it up the lines of Esther's torso until she was gazing at Esther's face with anxious eyes. It was a wordless plea, Maca couldn't even have said for what. It was for nothing in concrete, just for the moment they were sharing to last a few seconds longer before the world outside would intrude on them again.

And Esther was lost in that gaze. She had always been powerless when it came to Maca's eyes, and it hadn't changed. Somewhere, distantly, she knew that this was not a good idea, that nothing was resolved between them, but she couldn't help herself. This time, she drew Maca to her with more force, her mouth opening against Maca's as soon as their lips were touching. Mac's hands wandered around Esther's hips, her fingers digging into flesh in rhythm with the kiss.

Everything else was forgotten until in an attempt to move closer, Maca shifted her weight onto her left leg and jerked back in pain. "Ouch."

"Wait… Let me help." And immediately, Esther was with her, moving to help her stand up with the same deft and gentle motions that Maca would always associate with her hands and that she had fantasized about long before Esther had ever touched her. "Are you alright?"

"It's okay," Maca nodded, gritting her teeth for a moment to disband the sharp pull that tore up from her left shin. Esther's hands rested securely on her waist, steadying her, and just as Maca wanted to berate herself for having ruined the moment Esther looked up at her pensively, her head tilted backwards a bit at the close distance. Slowly, she lifted a hand, curving it to Maca's arm and then moving higher, along her shoulder and her neck, brushing through her hair and coming to rest against her cheek. Her expression was solemn and Maca counted the breaths until she would draw back, leaving her cold and bare in the air-conditioned space around her.

But instead of drawing back, Esther curved her hand around Maca's neck and this time, it was no magic pull, no haze to hide behind when she moved closer, her gaze alert, letting Maca know that, yes, this was her doing, and this was exactly what she wanted.

The kiss was sudden, almost bruising in its intensity and hungry as if the entirety of the past two years was catching up with them, leaving them with a feverish ache to regain all that which they had lost, everything, in the scant few moments they could hope to have.

"God…" Maca's voice was nothing but a groan and her lower lip was buzzing from the slight pull of Esther's teeth. "Esther…" She was heaving for breath, without much luck, and something in her tone of voice seemed to make Esther all the more adamant to make Maca lose her last edge of control. And Maca gave up, falling into the body in her arms. "…I need you…"

"And I need you…" Esther's eyes were closed, her hands wound tightly into Maca's hair. She had long since given up trying to breathe through her nose, gasping for air a hand's breath away from Maca's lips, completely lost in their kiss. "I always needed you… Only you…"

The sensation of belonging that wound around them with every touch of their tongues was too intoxicating to resist and Esther didn't care that they were in the middle of the changing rooms, she was hardly conscious of the fact or of anything, for that matter, apart from Maca's lips against hers. She didn't even feel the cold when she ended up with her bare back against the doors of the lockers. One of Maca's arms was curled protectively around her waist. The other was resting next to her head on the metal of the lockers, a last, feeble attempt on Maca's side to balance her weight and not smother Esther against the row of cabinets, but it became harder and harder to resist that temptation, especially when Esther started to move against her, the fingers in her hair curling rhythmically against her neck.

The high electronic beep of a cellphone cut through the sounds of their agitated breaths, making them jump apart as if someone had opened the door.

Esther fumbled for her phone and a single look at the display instantly tore her out of the magic haze that she had let herself sink into for the past blissful minutes. "It's Miguel," she said awkwardly. She donned her shirt with hasty movements. "He's home for lunch break – I have to go…"

"Of course…" Maca took a step back, for a moment not sure what to do with her hands that seemed to be dangling uselessly at her sides now that she had had to let go of Esther. It cut through her to hear Esther speak of 'home' with Miguel and she was angry at herself for it. These past few minutes didn't change anything, she reminded herself sternly. Even if Esther had let herself get carried away for a few moments, she was still married to Miguel who was waiting with lunch – at home. But it was so hard not to wish, and not to hope.

"So…" Esther shrugged uncomfortably, her expression guilty as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

"It's okay," Maca said and she wondered how she could sound so calm when she wanted to plead with Esther not to walk out of that door right now, to just give them another minute. "I didn't come here to stir things up for you," she added soberly. "I just wanted to let you know what happened. And apologize for my share of misunderstandings." She shrugged, smiling in a way that did not quite cover up her sadness. "I know I'm too late."

Esther turned around, adjusting the strap of the bag over her shoulder. "Too late for what?"

Maca wasn't sure whether she really had to spell it out or whether Esther was playing with her. "Another chance with you," she finally said.

For a few seconds, Esther's expression was unreadable. "Would you want that?" she then asked slowly.

Maca nearly laughed. "Yes, of course!" It was hard to believe that Esther was asking her in earnest. She had to hear Maca's heartbeat from where she stood, she notice to hear the hitches in her breathing, see the tremor in her every gesture. Maca stretched out her hands, letting Esther see their unsteadiness. "For me, nothing changed." Esther frowned at that and Maca relented, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "But I know things are different for you now."

Esther gave her a hard look that seemed to stretch out endlessly and Maca had to stop herself from fidgeting under it. "No. They aren't," Esther finally decided and her expression shifted into a rueful smile. "Much as I shouldn't say this, but they aren't." Wordlessly, she reached for the thin chain of the necklace underneath her shirt and pulled it up a few inches. "Why do you think I am still wearing this?"

Maca wasn't conscious of the fact that she had stopped breathing. She didn't dare to hope, she still didn't dare, out of fear to lose again. Perhaps this was also why Esther had needed to hear things spelled out, Maca mused while she waited patiently, having lain herself bare. And Esther walked closer again, so close that she looked directly at Maca's lips. "I couldn't even forget you when I thought you were dead," she stated with a helpless shrug. She looked up into Maca's eyes. "What makes you think I could do it now?"

This time, they both leaned in at the same time, with nothing of the earlier frenzy. This was much too serious, much too important to haste and miss as much as a flutter of eyelashes, or a half sighed breath. Slowly, Maca allowed herself to sink into the softness of Esther's lips, to let herself believe that this could be real, that they had another chance. And with how Esther was kissing her, Maca had no choice but to surrender. She curved her hands to Esther's shoulders, holding her close and reveling in the unhurried gentleness of her touch. And even when the kiss stopped it still seemed to go on, their breaths attuned to each other as Maca buried her head against Esther's shoulder and Esther nestled closely to Maca's neck.

"And I still want that apartment," she murmured into the fabric of Maca's shirt. She leaned back a little bit, just enough to be able to look at Maca again, and she thought she would never tire of that sight. "And you still owe me a dinner," she added breathlessly and Maca nodded, her smile just as giddy as Esther's own. "And I want to argue about who has to cook in the evening. And I want three little Azukas." Esther laughed, feeling as if she was flying, airborne with unconditional happiness and for now, she refused to think about anything else. "And I want all that with you." Maca's arms around her waist tightened again, but before she could raise her head for another kiss, the bag slid off her shoulder, keys and her cellphone dropping to the floor.

It wouldn't be this easy, Esther knew, reaching for her keys as the outside world intruded on her again and she had to acknowledge her responsibilities, responsibilities that she had failed in an inexcusable manner. There was still somebody else involved in this puzzle, someone who was not at fault at all and to whom she owed more than she could ever repay.

"It will take time," Maca guessed, seeing the reserve that settled over Esther's features. She didn't like it, not one bit, but she understood it. Still, it was strange that now that she knew she would hold Esther in her arms again, being patient was even harder than in the dire years before where she hadn't even heard from her.

"Yes, it will take time," Esther admitted. She stashed her things back into her bag. "Miguel did so much for me, I would have died if not for him." She sighed with unhappiness. "I can never make this up to him, but I can't lie to him, either." She glanced at Maca, willing her to understand. "I can't just leave him, I need time – I need to explain things to him…" She shook her head, knowing that there was no explanation that would suffice. "I need to try to make him understand. Then, perhaps, in a few months…"

"I understand…" Maca repeated even though she felt like she was dying of thirst inside. The idea of spending months without Esther, seeing her but not being allowed to hold her, now that they finally had found each other again, seemed too cruel to even contemplate. She sighed. "I don't want to be another day without you, but I understand. We should take things slow." She stepped back, trying not to be angry at Miguel. He was not at fault, Maca reminded herself, and for all she knew, he was a loving and devoted husband to Esther. She swallowed her jealousy at the thought of Miguel touching Esther, knowing that she was the one who was disrupting this marriage. The delirious happiness of the past stolen minutes was suddenly weighed down by shame.

"Yes. And we'll need a few months apartment hunting anyway," Esther stated practically, trying to lighten the suddenly somber mood. "After all, we already had rather detailed ideas…"

"Yes… yes, we did," Maca agreed with a laugh that was half a sob. Esther's way of handling tough situation was just another one of the reasons she loved her. "And we will have it… eventually…"

"Soon." Esther leaned in once more to press another kiss to Maca's lips. "Soon…" she murmured against her mouth, and then she hurried out, leaving Maca in the draft from the door that had fallen shut in her wake. For a minute, she stood frozen to the spot, not sure whether all this had been a dream. Esther in her arms. Esther, still wanting her. Esther, making plans for a future with her.

A huge grin spread over Maca's face as she sank down onto the bench with shaking hands. She didn't even notice the ache in her leg anymore, focusing instead on taking deep breaths, afraid that she would explode with happiness, leaving nothing behind but cinders. Or that she would float away, inexorably drawn upward, so light did she feel all of a sudden.

96

In the end, Esther did not go home. She exited the metro before her stop, sending Miguel a message that she had had to stay at the hospital over another emergency. She didn't even have the courage to talk to him in person, so convinced was she that Maca's kisses would be imprinted all over every word she might try to utter.

She had to be transparent right now, filled with Maca's words, Maca's touches, so that everyone who looked at her would also see Maca. Even though she knew it was paranoid, Esther had the feeling that the passersby who crossed her path as she wandered aimlessly through the streets with her collar drawn high looked at her knowingly, as if they were aware that she had just cheated on her husband in a way far more profound than a sexual one. She had willingly given herself to Maca all over again even though she wore someone else's ring on her hand.

Esther tried to imagine Miguel's face, searching for the right words to say to him, but there were no right words. She remembered his look of surprised hurt last week when she had rejected his advances and then another image pushed to the forefront: the badly veiled look of disappointment Maca had sported when she had told her that it would be a few months still until she could properly break up with Miguel. As things were, Esther didn't even know where to start, feeling instead as if she was betraying both of them.

The shame was marring the sheer exhilaration she felt at the memory of her conversation with Maca, of the few shared stolen minutes in the nurses' changing room of all places. Esther knew they were lucky that nobody had walked in and it frightened her to realize that she wouldn't have cared all that much even if someone had interrupted them. If she and Maca really ended up together again, her colleagues would find out sooner or later, especially with both of them working in the same hospital and even at the same station. And the day Teresa would put two and two together, the entire staff, possibly including patients, would know anyway.

Esther felt queasy at the thought of Teresa finding out, uncertain how the older woman would react. She had turned into a motherly friend for Esther and it was no secret that she had a certain fascination with Maca, but Teresa also liked Miguel a lot and always made sure to inquire about him. Esther involuntarily had to smile at the memory of the staff Christmas party where Teresa had even danced with Miguel. It was hard to believe that this had been just scant weeks ago.

There would be gossip, and none of the friendly kind, if Esther showed up at the next Christmas party with Maca on her arm. Most of her colleagues were fond of Miguel and some of the nurses even referred to them as the ideal couple. Esther smiled weakly. More than one of her colleagues would blame her, and she wouldn't be able to deny it.

But she was precipitating herself; she and Maca hadn't even done anything yet, barely more than talk, but Esther still couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of guilt. Helplessly, she tried to think of Miguel. She knew that without him, she would perhaps still be battling depression. She remembered the shared dinners in their apartment, their trips to the seaside and the day Miguel had single-handedly managed to maneuver the new couch up to her mother's small apartment. Again, Esther found herself smiling. It was not that she didn't love him. It was simply that nothing compared to Maca.

If she looked at Maca, there was nothing of the easy fondness she felt when she looked at Miguel. With Maca she forgot to breathe, the date, her own name, and yet it was like the eye of the storm, the place where she felt the most at peace.

Many times over the past two and a half years she had tried to console herself with the thought that the intensity between her and Maca would have died down at some point, but now she couldn't imagine that it would ever lessen. Despite all the time they had lost and the stupid misunderstandings and fears that had kept them apart, Maca was still exactly what she wanted. She hadn't even thought about the fact that there could be doubts. With Maca, it had never been about negotiating compromises. They had fallen into each other with no chance of withdrawing, and they hadn't even wanted such a chance.

Of course Esther was scared. Scared of the reaction of their colleagues and most of all, of really letting herself believe in this possibility, that there might be anther chance for Maca and herself after she had spent so much time denying herself the very thought. She still expected Maca to vanish into thin air at any given point and she knew she had her own issues to battle in that regard, as did Maca. It wouldn't be easy. But there was no question as to whether she wanted to try. The moment Maca's arms had closed around her in the changing room, she had known everything she needed to know, reason and convention be damned.

Esther looked up from the pavement, realizing that her steps had slowed down. And she knew where she needed to be at this very moment. Picking up pace again, she hastened around the nearest street corner and again into the metro, not stopping before she stood in front of the large apartment building.

She took a deep breath and reached to press the button. The metallic scrape of the doorbell rang through the staircase and resounded in the street, muted by the heavy door.

97

For long minutes, Maca had simply sat on the bench in the nurses' room, struggling to gather her raging thoughts. It was all too much too comprehend. After years of yearning and bitter thoughts, it was simply too much for her to have Esther close to her, alone, to speak to her, be allowed to hold her, and hear her say that, yes, she still wanted her. And at the same time, there was the nagging impatience of when she would see her again, when she could hold her again, kiss her again, even if her brain was still not quite comprehending what had just happened.

More than once, Maca reached up to her lips, to her cheeks, trying to reassure herself that this had really happened and that Esther's touch hadn't been just another dream.

Since Cruz had told her in no uncertain words to take the rest of the day off, Maca was left with nothing to do. She walked into the doctor's lounge in a haze, nearly stumbling over a dinner cart that was standing in her path. Everything still felt unreal to her and perhaps it was that sensation that had her rummage through her bag for her cellphone on her way out into the street. She needed to talk to someone so she could anchor what she was feeling in the outside world, proving that it was real.

She had to look up the number, scrolling down to the still new entry as she walked across the parking lot. After three rings, the mailbox picked up, and Maca waited impatiently for the thin beep at the end of the message. "Cruz…?" Maca paused, thrown by the sound of her own voice. She hadn't known she could still sound that hopeful and enthusiastic. "Cruz, it's Maca," she continued with more calm. "I... I talked to her, and I know I'm probably way ahead of myself here, but she said yes." Maca exhaled, unable to fight the smile that spread over her features at remembering Esther's answer, and the pendant around her neck. "She said yes!" That sounded a little mistakable, more like she had proposed to Esther. Maca's smile broadened. "I mean, she said she wants to give us another chance and…" She drew a shaky hand through her hair. "I know it'll all take time, and that it'll be difficult, and… and I don't even know what I'm thinking at the moment." Maca laughed, still half incredulous at everything. "Cruz, I think we may have to get drunk tonight. Possibly very drunk. – Call me back as soon as you hear this, or just come by whenever you want to… I'm on my way home now."

Only after Maca had hung up, she realized that Cruz would most likely be glad to spend her evening with her husband and her daughters, if she didn't have to stay late or got called into work again. Things had changed since their shared times in Kasaï-Oriental where they had nothing else to do in the evenings than sit on the wall with a few glasses of cheap African schnapps from Mbele's secret stock, talking about world politics and their latest cases. Now, Cruz most likely read fairy tales to her daughters in the evening and was happy about every ounce of sleep she could get.

But even if some things had changed, others hadn't, and though the conditions might be different ones now, there were things that Maca was adamant to recover. Her friendship with Cruz was one of them.

For a moment, there was a spark of jealousy at Esther who now was much closer to Cruz then she was. Things had indeed changed. But if her time in Africa had taught Maca one thing, it was tenacity and humbleness. She might have neglected people she cared about, out of misunderstandings or hurt pride, but she was intent on winning them back, Esther as much as Cruz and Vilches. It might never be the same again, but instead there was a chance at something new.

The thought didn't really temper her impatience when it came to Esther, but Maca was well aware of how huge a gift it was that Esther still wanted her. It made her feel blessed in a way that almost had her stop at the nearest church, just to have a place where she could be with all the gratefulness she felt.

Esther wanted come back to her, and that was well worth a few more months of waiting. She probably shouldn't see Esther away from work during that time, at least not alone, Maca reasoned valiantly. They could easily have been caught earlier today and she didn't want any gossip that could hurt Esther or would make her break-up with Miguel even more painful.

Again, Maca remembered how he had come by to pick Esther up the last Friday, after the endless shift where they had had to deal with the victims of a multiple car crash. He was treating Esther well, she had to admit that, and on the heels of that thought came the fears – that perhaps, a few weeks further down, Esther would realize that she wanted to stay with Miguel and that their marriage meant more to her than she had realized in that first delirious conversation with Maca. For a moment, Maca was tempted to utilize her knowledge about Miguel and Paula, only to be immediately sorry about the petty idea. Paula had been uncharacteristically quiet about the affair after she had found out about Maca and Esther, but from what Maca had gleaned from her over one shot too many of peach liquor, Miguel had cheated on Esther, even though he had ultimately decided to go back to her.

It wasn't her business, Maca decided as she reached her apartment building. It was something she would only mention if Miguel accused Esther of cheating and might insist on divorcing her as the guilty party.

If she wanted Esther to decide to be with her, she would simply have to trust her. "And the last time you didn't do that, you ended up in the borderlands for two years," Maca murmured at her reflection in the glass of the front door. "You're lucky she still loves you!"

That had sounded strangely like Cruz, Maca noticed, and she entered the lobby with a smile on her lips. "Very lucky," she hummed. Against her palm, she could still feel the hardened wood of the leopard pendant Esther had kept wearing despite believing her dead. Really, if she came up with anymore doubts, she would have to ask Cruz to personally whack her over the head.

Maca was still smiling when she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

98

Nervously, Esther shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited for the apartment door to open. She had no idea how the next few minutes would go, but she hoped that she exuded the sufficient amount of calm to make it through the conversation she knew she was going to have. Her presumed calm lasted only until the door opened, though.

"My child!" Encarna exclaimed with worry, making Esther doubt that she looked as composed as she thought she did. "Come on in. What happened?"

Faced with her mother's honest concern, Esther was crying again before she even knew it. Without another word, she let herself fall forward into her mother's comforting hold. "Maca…" she tried to explain between sobs.

Encarna drew back with a sigh, moving to wipe the tears from Esther's cheeks. "I was afraid something like that would happen when you told me she was back and starting at the Central," she admitted. "Come on in, why don't I make us a nice hot cup of coffee and you tell me what is going on."

Esther looked on while her mother put on the coffee and took out the good china and the familiar sight was calming her. She wasn't crying anymore by the time they sat down on the couch and Encarna started to stir the sugar into her coffee.

"I can't go on like this," Esther stated simply, setting down her cup without having taken a sip yet. Many times over the past two years she had sat on this same couch with Miguel, talking to her mother, and now it seemed like a movie to her that somebody else was starring in, far away and a little grainy. She simply couldn't go back to a point of not knowing. The moment she had kissed Maca earlier, everything had changed and there was no use in pretending anything else. "I can't go home to Miguel in the evening after being around Maca all day. It is killing me!"

"Of course you are confused now, you loved her very much," Encarna stated soothingly. "Why don't you just wait and see?" She put a hand atop Esther's, trying to reason with her daughter.

But Esther moved away, impatiently shaking her head. "All I did last week was trying to wait and see, and I feel lousy, against both of them."

"I was thinking about a little more than a week," Encarna commented dryly as she drew her spoon through her coffee. "Why don't you just wait and see and give yourself some time to calm down?"

"I can't," Esther explained with desperation. "It won't change anything, it just gets worse every day!"

"Do you really want to jeopardize your happiness with Miguel?" Encarna asked sharply. "And you are happy… you told me."

Esther shrugged helplessly. "Yes, but…"

"And this Maca is barely back a week!" Encarna reasoned. "What if in a few weeks, things look different to you? Meeting people you once loved is always troublesome at first…"

"But I still love her," Esther protested and she saw her mother wince at her statement. "I love her and I can't think of anyone else," she repeated, calmer now. "Not even of Miguel."

"It's only been a week," Encarna reiterated, afraid that her daughter was making a mistake in her haste. "You told me yourself you were angry at Maca because she spent two years traveling through Africa instead of coming back to you." She paused, looking at Esther with intent. "Does she really care about you the way Miguel does?" Before Esther had a chance to reply, Encarna continued. "Miguel was always here," she reminded her daughter. "He is a good man and he adores you. And you made a promise to him…"

"I know," Esther said with anguish. "But I made that promise when I believed Maca was dead!" She smiled ruefully. "And even if you were right and Maca would leave me again in the end… I still would risk it."

Encarna shook her head, frowning with worry. "I think it is better if you wait and don't make any decisions right now."

"And be like this with Miguel?" Esther asked with incredulity. She gestured at herself. "He doesn't deserve that."

"And he doesn't deserve hasty decisions, either," Encarna pointed out. "Why don't you just take a break for a while? If Miguel has any vacation days left, you could take a little trip together…"

Esther took a deep breath, squarely looking her mother in the eye. "I think I will need to get a divorce."

"Esther!" Encarna cried out with dismay.

"I'm sorry," Esther offered and she was suddenly very calm. "I'm so very sorry… but I can't change what I feel. Or for whom. I talked to Maca, and she still loves me."

"So does Miguel," Encarna pointed out, not willing to give up on her son-in-law that easily.

"But I love Maca," Esther said quietly. "You've seen me when I had just lost her and you know what it did to me. And now I get another chance with her, something that still feels like a miracle to me. I cannot refuse it."

Encarna looked into her cup for a few moments, remembering how shocked she had been when she had first seen Esther at the hospital after her return from the Congo, frail and dispirited. Back then, she had attributed it to the malaria and the shock of the attack, but looking at her daughter now, taking in the quiet seriousness in Esther's expression, she realized that perhaps there had been another, much more painful reason. Her daughter seemed so grown-up all of a sudden, and Encarna felt something close to pride. "No," she finally said. "I guess you can't."

Esther raised her cup for a sip of coffee and set it down again uncertainly so that the cup jarred against the saucer. "Would you like me less if I were living with a woman?" she asked hesitantly. "I know this is quite a big deal…"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Encarna snorted, again reaching out to cover Esther's hand with her own. "Of course, it would depend on the kind of woman," she then added in jest. "Some rich brat who left you waiting for two years… I don't know…"

"But don't you see, she didn't come back because she thought I was happy with Miguel," Esther argued in earnest.

"And you were," Encarna muttered under her breath. She shook her head and gave Esther a stern look. "But she came back now and stirred things up just the same!"

"She didn't know I was working here," Esther immediately defended Maca. "It was an accident. They flew her in because she had fallen ill in Tanzania and…"

"She doesn't have any exotic diseases or tribal tattoos, does she?" Encarna interrupted with consternation.

"No. No," Esther said hastily. "Not that I know of," she amended then. "Well, she has a little limp now, sometimes…"

"A limp?" Encarna's voice rose half an octave. "A rich brat with a limp," she summarized dryly. "Not the son-in-law I ever pictured, but at least it is original." With a sigh, she turned towards Esther again. "You said you spoke to her…?"

"Yes, this morning." Esther nodded solemnly. "And before you say it, no, she didn't ask for anything. She just apologized for the misunderstandings. She didn't even tell me that she still loved me, not until I asked her."

"Hmm." Encarna pursed her lips. "Oh, poor Miguel," she then exclaimed. "He is so happy with you!"

Esther closed her eyes for a moment. "How can he be happy with me like this?" she asked softly.

For a long moment, Encarna was silent. Then she bent her head, acknowledging the fact that Esther had already made her decision. "You better talk to him," she advised.

"How?" Esther asked anxiously. "I don't know the right words…"

"There are no right words," Encarna stated with a trace of bitterness. "There are just ways of saying such things that are more wrong or less wrong." She took the last sip of her coffee and set down her cup with a decisive gesture. "He's still your husband and he deserves to be the first to know. You already talked to her, now you need to talk to him."

99

It was dark outside by the time Esther got home, late enough that she could nearly have worked a full second shift in addition. The unlit hallway greeted her when she opened the apartment door and she felt something close to sad nostalgia, knowing that the time where this had been home to her was coming to an end. She was relieved to see that Miguel wasn't there yet. Like this, she could start dinner for them. The conversation with her mother still had her chasing her own thoughts and she had no idea yet how to face Miguel. Perhaps it would really be better to talk with him in a week or two, when she was calmer and would know better what to say to him.

She moved to switch on the lights in the living room and jumped backwards at the sound of the voice that came at her out of the dark. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"Miguel…" Esther shrieked, her heart racing when she finally made out his silhouette against the lounge chair. "You scared me half to death!" The moment she turned the lights on, though, she wished she hadn't. Miguel was pale, his hair unkempt as if he had run his hands through it a thousand times. She could see that he had been crying.

"Regards from your colleague with the broken nose," he said coolly. "Begoña, wasn't it? – I can see why you don't like her, but she sure had some interesting tales to tell."

"You talked to Begoña?" Esther asked with consternation.

"Well, she was willing to tell me a few things that you never told me!" Miguel replied defensively.

Esther took a step closer, not knowing what to say. "Miguel…"

"You took away her girlfriend…" Miguel shook his head, surveying Esther in a way that made her want to switch the light back off. "You know, at first I didn't want to believe it."

"Her girlfriend?" Esther scoffed, not even thinking before she talked. "Oh, this is rich. It was just Jungle Fever, and she knows it. Just an affair! Maca broke up with her long before…" She interrupted herself, realizing too late that in her ire, she had already admitted far more than she had wanted to.

Miguel just nodded as they stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. "The funny thing is that I think I always knew," he then stated quietly. "I knew there was someone else in the Congo, I knew it when you didn't want to come back." He stood up from the lounge chair, again running his hands through his hair in the gesture that was so typical for him. "At first I thought it was Pablo. I didn't ask. I didn't want to know." He shrugged, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants. Esther noted that he hadn't even changed out of his office suit yet. "He was dead and I had you back, and I told myself that the rest didn't matter." His shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath he took. "We all had paid enough. You had paid enough… and I thought I could make it work again."

"It did work," Esther corrected quietly. "For a while…"

"And then you tell me your old colleague Maca is back… and suddenly you're different," Miguel said agitatedly. He was pacing back and forth across the living room carpet and only stopped to look at Esther longingly. "You were again like the Esther I knew before Africa… alive, and vibrant… and radiant in a way I've never seen." Sadly, he shook his head in dejection. "And it wasn't because of me."

Esther was silent, glued to the spot and unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She felt like crying, choked by guilt, but no tears were forthcoming.

"It took me a while to see it," Miguel continued. "Perhaps I was blind. I don't know…" He cocked his head to the side, his expression vulnerable underneath the anger. "Did she make you gay?"

"No," Esther replied immediately. Being with Maca had never been about being gay. "It was just…" She hesitated, not saying that she would have fallen in love with Maca in any form and any body, whether man or woman. There was no need to hurt Miguel with that bit of knowledge. "It just happened," she said instead.

"And I had her photo in my bookshelves all the time!" Miguel yelled, motioning at opposite wall where, in between knickknacks and nicely bound editions, there stood a silvery picture frame with the photo Vilches had given to Esther when she had still been in the hospital. "I looked at her every day, damn it, and so did you!" With three steps, he strode across the room, angrily wiping the photo off its post. Esther flinched when the glass broke, shards scattering across the carpet. "How could you live with me like that? How could you marry me like that?"

"I'm sorry," Esther offered helplessly. "Miguel…"

"No. Forget it," Miguel cut her off, his tone harsh. "You ruined it. You ruined everything. And I sent Paula away for you…"

"Paula?" Esther asked in bafflement. "Paula, your ex? What does she have to do with this?"

"Well, when you told me you wanted a break and I didn't know whether you would come back at all…" Miguel began, but then he shook his head, angrily correcting himself. "When you were having your affair with Maca," he said with accuse. "Paula was back, and she wanted more again, yes. And in the end, I sent her away because you were back!"

"You had something with Paula again while I was gone?" Esther inquired, more incredulous than anything else.

Miguel crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you want to tell me anything about cheating?"

"No, of course not," Esther conceded hastily. "Of course you can do whatever you want. I know I was unfair. I understand."

Miguel gave her a long look. "It would be nice if you would at least be jealous," he then stated bitterly.

"I'm sorry," Esther said soberly. He was right, she wasn't jealous at all, just somewhat puzzled since she had never thought of him as someone who might be cheating, on anyone.

"You can't repair this with a few apologies," Miguel pointed out, angry at Esther's lack of reaction. She could hear him breathe in the silence as he realized what would come next. "You don't even want to repair it."

"I can't be with you like this," Esther tried to explain in a voice small with guilt. "And I don't think you would want to be with me like this, either." And even though she knew that it was the right decision for her, she doubted that she would ever be able to forget the look of hurt in Miguel's eyes. It seemed to cut off her ability to breathe and she knew that she would never forgive herself for this.

"But you can be with her," he concluded with jealousy. "Why did you never tell me about her? Why did you ever marry me?"

"Because I do love you," Esther stated with tenderness. "And because I thought I could make you happy." She shrugged, struggling to explain the whirl of emotions. "And Maca was dead… and I owed you so much… and I thought it…"

"Keep it," Miguel interrupted her. "I doubt it will make me feel any better." He raised his hands defensively when she drew breath to speak again. "No, don't say anything else." He shook his head. "At some point, perhaps we can talk. But not now." He had to turn his head away and Esther was afraid he had started crying again. "Right now, I'll leave before I do something I'll regret," Miguel added roughly. He turned on his heel, walking towards his office. "I'll be at my mother's for the time being."

"No! Miguel, wait… No," Esther called after him, and when he finally halted his steps in the door, she could see that he did it with reluctance. "It is your place, and you didn't mess this up." Esther stood forlornly in the middle of the living room that seemed so big around her all of a sudden. "And I know I can never make it right again." She exhaled audibly, making her decision. "I will stay at my mother's."

"Fine." Miguel didn't turn around as he spoke. "I'll send the necessary papers there."

He was still standing in that same doorframe, gazing into his office, when she came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, a hastily packed duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "Miguel…" She really didn't know what else to say. "I'll be leaving, then." She took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of the bag over her shoulder. "I… I hope you'll be alright."

Miguel just nodded. "Sure." He didn't wish her luck.

Only when Esther stood out in the street, freezing in the too thin jacket she had grabbed in the haste, the tears came, cold against her cheeks in the winter air.

100

When Maca had reached out for the twentieth time, adjusting the shot glasses and the coasters on her coffee table, she had given up. Her restlessness was clearly not abating and the usually so quiet tick-tock of the clock on the kitchen wall seemed to sound through the whole apartment, refusing to fade into the background again.

So in the end she had fled out onto the roof terrace and was now sitting in one of her wicker chairs under three thick blankets and gazing up at the few stars she could see against the lightened night sky above Madrid.

Cruz had said she'd come by later, after bringing the girls to bed and when Vilches was back. He was at a meeting with the students he tutored and Cruz said she had no idea when he would be home. Of course, they had only talked about such practicalities after congratulations on Cruz's part, a hastily withdrawn question for more details – just when Maca had begun to answer – and the stern admonition that Maca better not mess things up, or else.

But Maca had no intention of allowing things to go wrong in any way. She would wait, she repeated to herself for the umpteenth time, looking up at the stars as if they could induce the calm into her that she was so sorely lacking. Out in Kasaï-Oriental, the stars had always been a soothing sight to her, an endless majestic blanket stretching out above her. But of course, out there she had been with Esther.

And she would be with Esther again, Maca reminded herself, in just a scant few months. She had made it through more than a year under Cjelko, with no hope on the horizon at all; it was ridiculous that she should be so impatient about a few more months when she had a clear goal in sight. But perhaps that was exactly what was the problem: what she longed for was already at her fingertips, just out of reach and yet nearly tangible across the small distance that remained, and her patience was wearing thin with the temptation, already after mere hours.

Maca had to stop herself from calling Esther, from sending her even the most innocuous message, from making plans of leaving flowers in her locker and surprising her with a coffee in between patients. There would be time to do all this later, Maca knew that, but after having lost Esther once already, she was scared to stand on the sidelines motionlessly. And no matter how often she told herself that she trusted Esther – and she did – the thought of Miguel let her shift uncomfortably in her seat. She didn't expect him to let go off Esther willingly and without a fight and after she had seen how dedicated he seemed to be to his wife, Maca was afraid that he would come up with something she couldn't compete with, no matter how irrational these fears might be.

Miguel was still Esther's husband. She had promised to love him and it was obvious that he loved her in return. Maca pressed her lips into a thin line at the thought that their marriage certainly also entailed other things, scenes she didn't want to think about and that yet she saw as if painted onto the back of her eyelids in detail, repeating themselves over and over: Miguel's hands on Esther's body, his lips on her neck, all that which Maca jealously thought of as hers alone, hers and Esther's, and no one else's. Perhaps he was a good lover, she didn't know. All the other nurses had said that Esther was happy with him and Maca only knew that she hated the thought of him touching Esther.

Perhaps he was holding her in this very moment where Maca was sitting out here, alone and consumed by longing for the woman that both of them desired. Esther belonged with her, she thought possessively, Esther had made her decision, to return to Maca.

Only that she had to wait was something Maca's body wasn't quite able to comprehend. Maca closed her eyes, blocking out the stars for a moment as she recalled this afternoon's kiss in the changing room, how Esther's hands had been urging her closer, how easily her lips had slid open underneath her own…

Maca sighed, pressing her palms against her eyes. Her entire body was tingling with the memory alone and she thought she couldn't wait another day before she would look for Esther in that same changing room or the pharmacy or, if need be, in some supply closet to beg her for another kiss.

It had already been hard enough to keep her mind occupied for this one, long afternoon. Maca had busied herself by putting together a package for Tatyana and Paula, including the mandatory bottle of peach liquor. She also had added a note for Paula, remarking that the marriage between Esther and Miguel would most likely not last much longer. Paula had seemed happy enough with Baptiste lately, but Maca thought that Paula should be up to date on any developments either way.

Later, she had called her parents and spoken to her nephews, she had even read a goodnight story to Pedro jr. over the phone, and then she had talked with Carmen for a long time, telling her jubilantly about Esther and gracefully accepting the cook's gleeful speech about fate and linked souls and that Maca should have been more docile all along. Maca just kept smiling broadly and said yes to everything, feeling like the happiest, albeit also the most impatient, woman on earth, glad that at least Carmen was just as happy about the change of events as she was.

The dimmed sound of the doorbell cut through Maca's thoughts and she hastily pushed away the blankets, shivering when the February cold hit her heated body again. She stumbled inside, hoping that Cruz hadn't been ringing for long. Lost in her brooding as she had been, Maca possibly hadn't heard the bell at first.

"Come on up, Cruz," she called into the speakerphone, pressing the door opener without even waiting for an answer. She hurried back to close the door to the roof terrace and stopped to adjust the coasters and the shot glasses on the coffee table once more before she went into the kitchen to take a well-chilled bottle out of the fridge. A heart-to-heart with her dearest old friend and a few shots of liquor too many were just what she needed to make it through the rest of the evening without going crazy.

The elevator must have been at ground level since there was a knock on her apartment door already and Maca set down the bottle. "Coming!" She ambled down the corridor in her socks, throwing the door wide open with an inviting smile that quickly turned incredulous when she took in the figure that was standing in front of her door.

Lined softly by the glow of the lamps in the staircase, Esther shifted from one foot to the other. Maca could tell from her eyes that she had been crying and only belatedly she realized that the raincoat she was wearing was much too thin for a night this cold. Her shoulders were drawn up as if she was trying not to shiver. Her face was reddened from the cold and her hair was tousled, as if she had walked outside for a while.

And there, slung above her shoulder, was a small duffel bag, looking somewhat lumpy, as if it had been packed in a hurry.

Maca blinked, having to lean against the door when Esther looked her at her uncertainly, but with a smile.

Her voice wasn't more than a whisper. "Esther…"

101

Esther shrugged a little uncertainly, suddenly not sure whether it had been a good idea to come here, without even calling ahead. "Hello Maca."

She hadn't even thought about it. Going to Maca's place had seemed the most natural thing in the world, but Maca was still standing in the hallway, holding onto the door without saying a word. "I know this is kind of abrupt…" Esther began, not knowing what to say, but Maca interrupted her.

"Please don't wake me up," Maca whispered in a voice thick with longing, looking at Esther as if she were a vision.

"I know I said we should wait a few months and actually, I wanted to go to my mother's place right now…" Esther continued hastily, but then she looked at Maca and shook her head with a rueful smile. "But I just couldn't be anywhere else."

"Are you real?" Maca still wasn't moving a muscle, as if she was afraid Esther would disappear like a gust of air if she did. She didn't even dare to blink.

"And 'a few months' were perhaps somewhat exaggerated…" Esther stated soberly, correcting her earlier assessment. To show up at Maca's door the same night was just as exaggerated, but neither of them saw the need to comment on that fact.

"Definitely exaggerated," Maca echoed and only then was shaken out of her stupor, Esther's words finally sinking in. "To your mother's?" she asked in alarm. "What happened? Did Miguel…"

Esther blinked. "We're getting a divorce," she then said slowly, listening after the still unfamiliar phrase.

"You talked to him?" Maca asked with surprise. "Already?"

"It's strange…" Esther looked past Maca, somewhere between the door and the wall. "He knew. He looked at me and said there was something about me, a radiance he didn't know." She gestured helplessly, looking at Maca as if Maca might know the answer to this. "I never told him I loved you, but when you were back, he says he knew, somehow…" Esther trailed off, her expression warring between guilt and puzzlement. "So now it's over," she added calmly, and then took a deep breath, knowing that this was only half of the truth. "It was over the moment I knew you were still alive," she admitted.

Maca knew that she should feel sorry for Miguel, that she shouldn't be this giddily happy instead, but she couldn't help herself. It seemed to be bubbling up from deep inside her, like a fountain from a rock as she remained rooted to the spot, still doubtful that this happiness was indeed intended for her, that she should be this lucky. Something else occurred to her, keeping her from reaching out. "Esther… if you are here and he finds out, he can divorce you as the guilty party…"

"I don't care," Esther said simply. A shiver ran through her that finally shook Maca out of her stupor.

"You must be freezing in that raincoat," she observed, hastily stepping aside. "Please, come in…" The moment the phrase left her lips, Maca realized that this was more than a simple invitation. It wasn't just about Esther entering her apartment, but about Esther stepping back into her life. And from the way Esther slowly set her foot across the threshold, she was conscious of it as well.

In the warm light of the hallway, it was easier to see Maca's face and Esther stood transfixed for long moments, tracing her gaze across the familiar curves and angles and new, pronounced lines that hadn't been there in Kasaï-Oriental. Maca had to have gone through dire times, as well, Esther thought, times she still knew nothing about, but they had aged Maca, giving her a more serious look. But when Maca raised an eyebrow and gave her a half smile, it was endlessly familiar and they stepped into each other's arms with the same ease of old, but infinitely more aware of the luxury of the shared touch.

The door to the apartment drew shut with a soft click behind them, but neither of them moved. They still stood in the middle of the hallway, content to be anywhere as long as they were together. Esther's bag slid to the floor unnoticed.

Maca's hands stroked across the shoulders of the raincoat, her cheek pressed against Esther's temple. "Esther…"

The murmur sounded very close to Esther's ear, enough to make Esther shiver again and it seemed that only then Maca noticed that the fabric underneath her fingers was damp.

"This has to go," she announced and without loosening the embrace, she tried to peel the coat off Esther's shoulders. She tossed it in the general direction of the wardrobe, her hands having returned to the much more important task of stroking along Esther's shoulders, trying to impart some of the warmth of her own body. "Come here…"

For long minutes, they stood like this and Maca would have been content to remain right there indefinitely, but then she felt Esther's head move against her neck. "So… this is your new place?" Esther asked across Maca's shoulder, for the first time taking in the apartment around her, the spacious corridor with its framed pictures and half-hidden ceiling lights. "Neat," she stated, only to grin up at Maca. "Of course, it's not the old hut…" She picked up her bag, taking a few steps down the hallway.

"Nothing beats the old hut and its shabby mattresses," Maca said jokingly because if she didn't joke now she would start crying and she wasn't sure she would be able to stop again.

Esther was still looking curiously at the different opened doors. "Well, with a little redecoration…" She gazed left and right. "Does it have a dishwasher? And a real bathtub?"

"Yes…" Maca replied dazedly, motioning in the direction of the bathroom. Something was going on above her head here and she had the feeling that she should better catch up to it fast.

Esther looped her fingers through Maca's. "And a kitchen without termites?"

"Yes, it does," Maca replied unsteadily and she wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry as she looked at Esther who was standing in her hallway with a smile as if she had always been here, with her.

"Good." Esther put down her bag with a firm nod. "I think it'll do," she announced and she smiled at Maca when she said it.

Maca wanted to ask her what she meant, but actually, it was obvious in that smile already what Esther was trying to say. "I don't need all the closet space, anyway," Maca said lightly, much like Esther shying away from putting a heavy name to this wonderful, wordless thing that was happening right there.

Esther paused, looking at her bag with a shrug. "It's not as if I brought that much," she observed, her expression suddenly more serious.

They would have to pick up Esther's clothes at some point, Maca thought, but then she decided they could organize all that later, much later. Right now, she didn't want to kill the magic of the moment. "I can offer hot chocolate," she said instead, thinking that Esther's fingers still felt a little to cold in her grasp.

She moved on into the kitchen, gently pulling Esther along with her, but then she was drawn to a halt as Esther stopped moving, gazing into the living room as if transfixed.

The room hadn't turned out half bad, Maca pondered, with its color design of light browns and sandy tones that matched the wide, comfortable couch. The room almost gave the impression as if the walls disappeared. One side was adorned with a line of Luba masks. The shelves were irregular, made from simple, polished wood. The coffee table was so low that one could just as well sit around it on the floor, or on the patterned pillows in bright, tribal designs. There were two more low tables, one holding a wide, dark bowl, the other serving as a pedestal for a set of animal figurines that looked a lot like those Mbele had been making for them.

Esther recognized a heron and an elephant among them. There also was a lion. On the window sill that seemed to look out onto a large balcony behind, she saw a row of identical red paper lanterns, these ones certainly of the original, Asian kind and a lot more expensive than the simple exemplar that Maca had brought her from Mbuji-Mayi.

Esther bit her lip, unable to stop the few tears that escaped both at the sight and the memories it evoked, memories that Maca clearly cherished just as much as was evident in every corner of this room.

Immediately, there was the reassuring warmth of Maca's body behind her and arms wrapped securely around her waist. "Please don't cry," Maca pleaded softly, leaning her head against Esther's.

"It's amazing," Esther whispered, still gazing around the living room. "It almost feels like open space… how did you get it done?"

Maca chuckled. "Well, my interior designer had different ideas originally, but I managed to make him see my point. Although I don't think he'll want to work for me again."

Slowly, Esther turned in her hold. "Your interior designer?" She arched an eyebrow at Maca. "Snob."

"It was a gift of my mother's," Maca protested.

"So you're talking to her again?" Esther asked, not wanting to dwell on the fact that Maca was someone who could afford fancy interior designers and who would perhaps someday wish for someone who could appreciate all this high-brow stuff more. Esther frowned, unwilling to share her mother's worries. Whatever might happen between her and Maca in the future, today they were here together, right now, and Esther would do her utmost to make this state last as long as possible.

"Yes." Maca shrugged, still keeping her arms around Esther. "Never mind that she still keeps trying to set me up with eligible bachelors in the wine business, but we are talking again." Suddenly, she grinned broadly. "And I have the cutest pair of twin nephews who enjoy my goodnight stories. And a little niece who is a toddler car champion."

Esther smiled fondly at imagining Maca with her brother's children. Maca had always been so good with children, especially with Azuka. She tried to imagine Maca pregnant, or with a toddler on her own who might race down this hallway or through this living room and her smile got even wider.

It nearly made Maca ache, just the sight of Esther smiling like this, and she wondered what she would do if her family wouldn't accept Esther as her partner. At this point, her mother would probably just point out acidly that Maca's judgment hadn't improved much if she was bringing home another married woman, but Maca looked forward to proving her wrong. Of course, it was another question whether Esther would be able to bear with a whole load of 'snobs' instead of just one, but Maca was more than willing to make it all up to her, in any way possible. And ultimately, she knew where her loyalties lay. She had missed her family over the past few years, but she had been able to live without them. The one without whom she hadn't been able to live was Esther.

"Is that a balcony out there?" Esther asked, pointing past the lanterns on the windowsill to a glass door to the right.

"Oh, you haven't seen the best yet," Maca stated, once more taking Esther's hand and leading her out onto the roof terrace.

"I take it back," Esther muttered dryly, taking in the large space with the lit torches and the wicker chairs. "It's not a balcony, it's… for God's sake, you could fit a pool out here!"

"Doesn't work because of the building statics," Maca explained regretfully. She slowly walked ahead, moving Esther along with her until she could maneuver both of them into the chair under the blankets where Maca had sat only minutes ago.

The blankets still held a bit of warmth, and Esther inhaled contentedly. "It smells of you," she observed, pulling one of the blankets up to her ears while she leaned her head against Maca's shoulder. She looked up at the stars that seemed far away as her vision became blurry with tears.

Maca's soft voice was around her like a touch. "Hey… what is it?"

"Nothing." Esther shook her head, uncertain whether she could explain what it did to her to be able to sit here with Maca like this. "Do you know how many nights I spent with the scent of you just out of reach, dying to touch you like this? To hold you, just once more? – And you were never there…" She trailed off, unable to hold back a sob.

"I know," Maca murmured and when she moved to kiss Esther's temple, Esther could feel that there were tears on Maca's cheeks as well. "I know it. I had nothing of you… no photo, no thing that once had belonged to you… everything was burnt and you were gone." Maca exhaled shakily, close to Esther's ear. "So many nights passed until I could fall asleep without thinking of you and having to cry, and then it still happened again and again." She embraced Esther so tightly that her arms trembled with the strain. "I always thought of you. Every night."

"Maca…" Esther's voice was weak as she hid her face against Maca's neck. The hands that she curled into the front of Maca's shirt were trembling.

It was perfect, Maca thought, blinking away a last tear as she looked up at the stars. Perfect. It didn't matter that the stars were far away here and that instead of the nightly sounds of the planes, there was the distant noise of city traffic. As long as she could hold Esther like this, things were perfect.

Maca drew back a little to find Esther looking up at the stars as well. Gently, she let her eyes follow the line of Esther's profile and she thought she would like to kiss her now, but there was no hurry when she leaned in. Time was a luxury, but they could afford this luxury now.

Esther seemed to anticipate her move, turning into her before Maca had even really leaned closer and there was just the tiniest bit of hesitance right before their lips met, as if they knew that this was the final step, and as if they were a little nervous whether this would really be all that they wanted it to be.

And it was.

Maca's lips opened slowly against Esther's, savoring every tiny detail and although Maca knew she had kissed Esther before, even this same day, it was in a way as if they were kissing for the first time, arriving at a place they had believed to have inhabited before and that they had thought lost to them, and that yet, they had never seen before.

Another shiver ran through Esther and Maca wrapped her arms around her more securely. "I'll warm you up," she murmured, misunderstanding Esther's reaction. She drew another blanket over them and tried to move so that Esther sat more comfortably in her lap.

Esther leaned back into the warmth behind her, infinitely aware of the body against her own. She couldn't resist the temptation to lean a bit more heavily against Maca and immediately registered the tiny wince underneath her thighs. "Am I hurting your leg like this?" she asked, carefully resettling her weight.

"You mean because of the limp? No." Maca moved behind her, making Esther slide more snugly against her torso. "This is from the gunshot wound." She shrugged with self-deprecation. "Light traces of use. I'm afraid you're not getting me back in perfect condition."

Esther stopped her with both hands against her chest. "I'm getting you back, and that is a perfect condition," she stated with emphasis. "And I want you with every single scar you've collected in my absence, is that clear?" She waited until Maca, surprised by her demanding attitude, nodded. "Good," Esther declared then. She waited another few seconds before she asked, "What happened in the jungle?"

It was a big question and one that Maca knew she had to answer. But she didn't want to do it tonight. Tonight, she simply wanted to be with Esther and remember what it was like to be happy. Completely, utterly happy. "I got shot," she stated simply. She leaned in to look more closely at Esther in the dark, her expression disarmingly open and heartfelt. "And everything afterwards was waiting for you."

Esther blinked, caught speechless for a few seconds. "You won't have to wait anymore," she promised then and the mood between them was suddenly solemn. "Never again," Esther murmured, and then her lips were already against Maca's, kissing her as if it were the first and the last time and every time in between.

None of them heard the phone ring inside or the muted click that indicated that the answering machine was taking the call. "Maca? It's Cruz… sorry, but Vilches is late and Maria threw up just now… we'll have to postpone the drinking." There was soft crying in the background, Cruz probably had baby Maca on her arm. "You can call me until late, though, if you want to. I guess I'll need another hour to settle the girls down… I just hope that the fact that you're not answering the phone means that you're drunk already and not that after the first two glasses, you decided to go serenade Esther or something similarly stupid." Cruz sighed. "Give her some time, okay? Give both of you some time. This will be hard enough at work already, Esther doesn't need hell at home in addition if she files for a divorce. – Yes, angel, mama's coming. – Maca? I have to go. I'm really sorry, I was looking forward to this… perhaps we can do it the night after tomorrow? Or on the weekend? Just call me, and try to stay out of trouble in the meantime!"

The tiny red light of the answering machine blinked unnoticed into the room when Maca and Esther stumbled back in from the balcony, shivering from the momentary chill. Blindly, they reached for the heat of the other body again as soon as the door closed behind them.

The kiss began mutually, or perhaps it was that the kiss hadn't even stopped and it was still the same one that had made them hurry in from the balcony, the cold neither of them had really felt nothing but a welcome excuse.

Maca's lips were smooth and insistent against her own and Esther struggled to pull her even closer, desperate for yet more contact. It was as if finally, the sensation of each other's presence had sank into the very blood of their bodies that was now rushing trough them, licking at their bones and breaths and demanding more. Esther closed her eyes as the familiar ache ran through her, curling into a tight ball low in her stomach and she bit back a gasp when Maca's hands slid underneath the hem of her shirt, the movement so well-known to her and yet it had her heart beating out of her chest as if Maca had never touched her before.

"You lost weight," Maca observed quietly, tracing her fingers up Esther's ribcage.

"I know." Esther shrugged with a bit of embarrassment, struggling to breathe. "I never really got it back after the malaria, and after I left the hospital, I wasn't much for eating, either…"

"My princess," Maca murmured and it was more of a purr. She leaned in to kiss the corner of Esther's mouth, and then her lips, fully, slowly pushing her tongue past Esther's teeth while her hands continued to draw up Esther's shirt inch by inch, making Esther answer the kiss with more and more urgency. In the end, there was only one short moment where they had to break the kiss so that Maca could pull the shirt over Esther's head, but even that minuscule span of time was too long and Esther renewed the kiss even more feverishly, pushing Maca backwards with the momentum.

Maca's hands were trembling against Esther's skin, brushing up her arms and down her back, hardly daring to touch for fear that this body was not the one she remembered. There were lines on it she hadn't known, etched into Esther's face by months of grief. Esther hadn't been so slight and the scent of her hair was different now, probably a better shampoo than what they had used out in Kasaï-Oriental.

Maca's fingers brushed over Esther's skin again and again, trying to map this new and old territory with a maddening lightness that made Esther tremble, sending her body against Maca more heavily. Between them, warm through the fabric of her shirt, Maca could feel the leopard's pendant, hanging low across Esther's chest as another silent, tangible reminder that Esther had never given up on her.

And this was Esther, Esther with her, Maca realized on a level so bone-deep that it was beyond words. The way she leaned into her and the way her breathing quickened, and the perfect way her head fit exactly against Maca's shoulder and the way she drove Maca crazy when she slid a palm in between them, slowly dragging it down Maca's chest.

Maca was reduced to a helpless moan when the button of her pants suddenly gave way and the sound of zipper being drawn down seemed to echo loudly through the room that was filled with nothing but their unsteady breathing.

Esther tugged on Maca's pants and when she managed to pull them down, Maca toppled backwards onto the couch, kicking the fabric off her legs. She could see the exact moment Esther suddenly froze and she knew where she had been looking. Inwardly, Maca cursed herself for not having dimmed the lights in the living room, but Esther interrupted her thoughts. "Sssh…" she murmured, climbing onto the couch until she was sitting astride Maca's hips. "Let me see," she pleaded and she moved lower, hovering over Maca's body. Maca lifted her head from where she lay sprawled across the pillows and watched in rapture how Esther traced the jagged outline across her shin just with her fingertips. It had something brazenly sensual, just the way Esther moved her fingers, and Maca couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through her.

"I want to see all of them," Esther proclaimed and her voice was almost a growl.

Maca stilled under her hands, knowing that the scars from her gunshot wound were a lot worse than the one on her shin. "Not here," she asked and Esther nodded, withdrawing so that Maca could set the pace.

Maca got up and took her hand and like this, they ambled across the living room, in their bare feet, Esther only in her pants and Maca only in her shirt, and Esther thought that perhaps this was what paradise had to have been, two people together on a shared path, with wonders ahead and nobody else in the world to worry about.

The bedroom was sparsely decorated, just a nightstand and a large bed with a simple wooden frame and no headboard. Esther looked at the polished wood of the bed frame and thought that this simplicity was probably a lot more expensive than any fancy canopy bed and then she had to smile because here, they didn't need a mosquito net and it would be just Maca against her skin. She looked at Maca's hips unabashedly as Maca leaned over and, after a moment's hesitation, switched on the light on the nightstand.

Esther reached out to hug her and in the end, she felt the hardened surface of the scar tissue before she even saw it. Even though she had sworn herself that she would not shy away, she drew back, staring at Maca incredulously as she ran her hands over the marred skin. Maca didn't move, standing still under her touch as Esther moved her hand around, finding the small, nearly round indention of the entrance wound. And then before Maca could react, Esther needed to see it, needed to see that Maca was alive, that these scared didn't mean she had died and she tore Maca's shirt off so hastily that the last button tore off, soundlessly landing on the thick carpet at the foot of the bed.

Maca tried not to fidget as Esther gazed at the scars where the bullet had torn through her skin. "Maca…" Esther looked up at her, and Maca could see that her eyes were swimming with tears. "Oh my God, Maca…" And then her arms were around Maca, so tightly that it hurt.

With the firm, yet gentle insistence that was so typical for her, Esther nudged her back onto the bed, and Maca could feel tears against her skin as Esther covered her with kisses. And even though Maca knew that her scars had long since settled, it felt as if the numbed skin was more sensitized again, feeling smooth under Esther's lips.

When Esther reached to remove the last scraps of cloth between them, something else low on Maca's hip caught her attention. "Where did you get this?" Esther asked stupefied.

"In the camp in the jungle," Maca replied. "It's a healing tattoo…"

She trailed off when she caught the way Esther was looking at her while she traced her fingers across the small lion's image. She didn't point out that it was her totem animal and that it tied Maca to her on yet another level, but Maca felt it in that gaze and in that touch, in some place of herself that had no words other than their names.

"They told me it was my healing symbol," she said softly, not once taking her eyes off Esther. "And it worked."

"Yes, it worked," Esther murmured low in her throat and her voice sent shivers down Maca's spine. Her hands reached out and curled into Esther's hair when Esther bent down to kiss the tattoo, running her tongue along its lines possessively.

Maca arched her back without any conscious thought, her legs trembling as she treaded for a hold among the covers. And then she needed Esther with her, her body molded as closely to her own as humanly possible and she reaching to push two fingers under Esther's necklace, drawing her back up her body with slowly intent. She gasped, her stomach muscles tensing inward in reflex when the warm ebony brushed along her skin, causing her to shudder in reaction.

"I never put it away," Esther's voice sounded against her ear, warm and deep, between ragged breaths. Her hands were placed to the sides of Maca's head as she moved above her. "The most I ever managed without it was not even a week… I always put it back on, as if it was calling me back to you."

"Yes," Maca agreed unsteadily. She closed her hands around the pendant for a moment as if it could anchor her while Esther's slow thrusts were making her come undone. She hooked a leg across Esther's hips, blindly reaching for her hands with her own.

"…so much time without you," she whispered thickly. "I thought I would die without you."

Esther nodded breathlessly. "I know." Her fingers were tightly curled into Maca's, enough to make their bones hum with the pressure. Heat brushed against Maca's skin with every of her words. "I know exactly what it feels like… all the times I woke up with empty hands, the images of you gone…"

"No more," Maca swore, and she didn't know whether it was a plea or a promise, or perhaps both. She was trembling so hard that she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, cognizant only of Esther's body that was moving with her own and the weight of their linked hands that was slowly sliding down their stomachs.

"No more," Esther agreed and she sank her teeth into her lower lip when Maca's fingers reached their goal. Their bodies moved more heavily now, slowed down by the sheen of sweat that covered their skins and there was just one, short moment when Esther closed her eyes: in touching Maca, and feeling like coming home.

They kept staring at each other, not daring to close their eyes, half wondrous and half afraid the other might still disappear and then they were smiling with giddy incredulity when they didn't, the solidness of their bodies anchoring them to each other. Without even realizing it, they had leaned so close to each other that they were sharing the same breath, keeping just enough of a distance that they could still look at each other, weeping with intensity without even noticing the tears until they were swept up in the shared energy, sinking into each other's bodies as if even the barrier of their skin between them was no more, instead arriving in each other's heartbeats, in their bare feet, on a shared path, linked at their hands and gazing towards the wonders that lay ahead.

In the end, they found themselves curled tightly around each other in the middle of the bed, just like it had been in Kasaï-Oriental, even though they had a lot more room at their disposal now.

"You really thought of everything, didn't you?" Esther murmured sleepily. "This bed is so large and comfortable…" She suppressed a yawn, snuggling closer until she lay with her chin tucked against Maca's neck.

"We could get a bigger one," Maca suggested placidly, curling her arm around Esther's waist.

"Why?" Esther briefly raised her head to look at her in the dark. "We don't event take up half the space in this one."

"No, not if we sleep like this," Maca agreed.

"I don't plan on sleeping any other way," Esther informed her, her breath gusting along Maca's chest.

"Me either." Maca sleepily combed her fingers though Esther's hair, thinking about falling asleep like this with Esther every night, and waking up with her like this every morning.

"Teresa will have a conniption when she finds out about us," Esther stated suddenly. "She was always worried about my happiness, but I think the solution she envisioned was more along the lines of Miguel getting me pregnant."

"I could try to do that," Maca offered immediately, trying to joke away the uncomfortable image of Esther with Miguel.

Esther snorted against her shoulder. "Please do. That way, Teresa would at least have a good reason to stroke out."

"Teresa will survive it," Maca said reassuringly and hoped she was right. But there was something else she was curious about. "Did you really break Begoña's nose?"

There was silence for a moment. "I guess so," Esther then mumbled guiltily.

Maca just laughed. "That's my girl." She smiled when she felt Esther grin against her shoulder and then press a kiss to it before she settled in again.

Both of them knew that things wouldn't be as easy as they looked tonight, warded off with a kiss and a joke. Esther was still married and Maca's parents were still refusing to accept that their daughter was gay, but that was how things were, imperfect and messy, and they didn't have to think about them tonight. Tonight was only about the two of them and as long as they were together, they would make it through the troubles that lay ahead.

They were home.

The End

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