Session 𝓔ighty

Session 80:
"The Declaration"

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

"Monroe," I quickly said when she walked past the kitchen island I sat at.

I slid down from the tall chair, following after her to god knows where.

She had just walked off in the midst of our current conversation about Dr. Kincaid. 

"Ro," I called out, walking behind her down the hallway. "Stop," I said, grabbing her arm.

But she only tugged against me—so I grabbed her waist, pressing my feet into the floor with all my strength.

Monroe didn't bother to pull against me.

She just calmly halted, remaining stuck in place.

But she didn't turn her head to meet my stare, much less move an inch.

She felt so fucking stiff.

"Let's just take a moment, okay?" I whispered softly, hugging myself to the back of her body, "We don't even know if it was her."

"Her," Monroe emphasized, "Say her name, Liberty. You seem to be on a first-name basis."

I let out a deep sigh, realizing she was still very pissed off by me using Dr. Kincaid's first name.

"No one's on a first-name basis, baby," I whispered, caressing my hands against her covered stomach.

"It wasn't hard to say her name minutes ago," Monroe pointed out, "It seemed like second nature to you, yes?" she asked, reaching for one of her sleeves.

It was a bad sign.

Her tugging her sleeve down, only to carefully roll it back up, meant she was spiraling.

"It's not," I said, letting go of her waist so I could walk around to face her. "Everything with you is second nature—she's nothing."

Monroe hummed, the sound tight in her throat. "I'm well aware that she's nothing, Liberty," she said, still not glancing up from her sleeves. "That doesn't mean you're on a first-name basis."

"Okay," I immediately agreed.

"No," Monroe sighed, shaking her head as she focused on rolling her sleeve, "Not okay."

I reached up, unconsciously cupping her soft face in my hands.

I need to feel her—to make some sort of contact with her.

"Ro," I whispered, stepping closer to her. "Let's pause for a moment."

She shook her head when I tried to guide her head to lift up, hoping to meet her stare.

"I get you," I reminded her. "You let me get you—you let me fix you, baby."

Monroe's actions faltered for a moment, her hand halting at her sleeve.

The air was tense, especially as I anticipated her next move.

I just stood there, hoping she would meet me halfway here.

As soon as she glanced up, my shoulders physically sank.

Her blue eyes were softened, her jaw less tense.

"There she is," I whispered so softly, letting go of her face to wrap my arms around her neck.

I hugged her tightly to me, even though she felt so tense.

I didn't care.

I just wanted to hold her.

Monroe slowly relaxed against me as I buried my face against her chest, holding the back of her head.

I could hear her let out the softest sigh.

Then I felt her lean down, resting her head on my shoulder.

"She's a problem," Monroe whispered, her voice so perfectly soft. "All I know is how to eliminate problems, Liberty."

I nodded against her chest. "I know, baby. Let's just..." I trailed off, trying to choose my words carefully. "Let's wait a little longer before eliminating this problem, okay?"

"I'm supposed to eliminate her as a problem before she realizes she is one," she said, almost as if she were reciting something from her head.

I wouldn't even be surprised if it was something her parents had drilled into her head.

"Let's just wait. Maybe we could look at security cameras first—or do more research on this?" I asked, trying to softly suggest this without pushing her into another breakdown. "Let's just confirm it was her. Then by all means, do whatever you want. I just wanted us to make sure first, you know?"

Monroe hummed in acknowledgment, but it's clear she wasn't fully on board.

"This isn't me sticking up for her, baby. I'm always on your side," I reassured her.

"Yes," Monroe murmured, letting out a deep sigh. "I know."

"Good," I softly whispered, pressing myself deeper into our hug.

"Just don't say her name again," she suddenly said, making me nod immediately.

"Never again," I quickly agreed.

It was a little bit amusing how bent she was on this name topic, but now isn't the time to crack a joke.

"Let's go sit down," I suggested, pulling away from our hug. "Maybe on the couch?" I asked, glancing over to the nearby living room.

I had never actually sat in there before.

Monroe silently nodded, causing me to gently grab one of her hands and guide her over to the white sectional couch.

We walked around the back of the couch, passing by the black fireplace.

Monroe sat down first, then I took my spot beside her, draping my legs over her lap.

"We do need to talk about this summer break thing," I suddenly said, even if I hated bringing it up after everything that just happened.

But I know after this dressing room situation, she'll want to shelter me even more.

"We do?" Monroe asked, tilting her head as she met my stare.

I nodded.

Hesitantly.

"Yes... I um," I whispered, drawing in a deep breath.

I had to look away from her, sighing deeply as I tried to force the words out.

"I don't want to take the break."

My words echoed in the air for seconds to come, the silence almost deafening.

I contemplated whether she even heard me.

So much so that I glanced over, meeting her blue eyes already pinned on me.

She was neutral for seconds on end as I waited for her response.

Then suddenly—

Her brows furrowed, almost like she had just processed my words.

"You deserve a break," Monroe whispered, gently grabbing my hands to hold in hers.

"Maybe, but I don't want one," I tried my best to explain, tilting my head slightly. "I'm ready to work. I want to have something of my own for once."

Monroe's expression grew more confused. "You can have anything you want, Liberty. You never have to ask. It's always yours," she pointed out, interlacing her fingers with mine. "I'll write anything in your name if that's your concern—"

"No-no," I quickly cut her short, hating that she had jumped to that conclusion. "I want to earn it, Monroe. I want to work for my own stuff."

"But you don't have to," Monroe emphasized, letting go of one of my hands to cup my face so gently in her hand. "You never have to again. I'll always take care of you."

"Monroe," I whispered, letting out the softest sigh.

Because her words were so fucking sweet.

She makes me feel safe.

But at the same time, it's not about her taking care of me.

I want to take care of myself for once.

"Take the break, darling," Monroe whispered so softly, caressing her thumb against my cheek. "Give it one chance."

I shook my head before I could think it through.

But I had nothing.

No words came to my mind.

It felt like a circle with her.

"I thought you had my best interests at heart?" I suddenly whispered, wondering why this felt so hard.

"Always, Liberty," Monroe didn't hesitate to say, tilting her head at my words. "I always have your best interest at heart, my sweet girl."

"But..." I trailed off, shaking my head as I glanced away from her. "But I'm telling you I would be happier working, and you also—you got in my head. You're so deep in my head, Monroe. I don't even remember saying I needed a break. You made me think I wanted a break, and now I don't even know what I want and—"

I quickly drew in a deep breath, trying not to feel overwhelmed by all of this.

"Are you manipulating me?" I suddenly asked, even though I was unsure what manipulation fully is.

But fuck do I feel so manipulated right now.

I feel like I'm going insane whenever my thoughts don't align with hers.

"You never lie to me," I whispered, glancing back at Monroe, who seemed to be unnervingly silent. "I know you don't, so just tell me what this is."

Monroe didn't speak—she didn't even show a reaction.

She just calmly caressed my cheek, her eyes trailing my face.

It made my stomach turn with knots, entirely unsettled by her current behavior.

It's like I had never even said anything at all.

She's just in her own world, entirely calm.

"Yes."

The word was lowered, but she didn't try to hide it.

She was being honest.

And it broke something inside of me, so much so that it made my head pound, everything around me blurring away as I processed what she just said.

"It doesn't mean I don't have your best interests at heart, Liberty," her voice echoed in my heavy ears, unconsciously pulling away from her with wide eyes.

I couldn't get any words out.

My brain felt broken.

"They're going to use you," Monroe said, her blue eyes sinking so deeply into mine. "You're not a Leclair. They'll use you until you're broken. Until you no longer serve a purpose to them."

Her parents.

She's talking about her parents.

"You should've told me that," I whispered, finally latching onto some kind of words.

"You wouldn't have listened," Monroe said, letting out a deep sigh. "You only would've done it to fight against them, and while I love your defiance—"

She suddenly paused, her brows knitting together.

My brows even furrowed, and my eyes grew wide, wondering if she had just...

Did she just say she loved me?

Is that what she meant?

"I love that trait about you," Monroe suddenly clarified, glancing away from me entirely. "That's what I meant. It's an admirable trait."

I remained silent, feeling this weird defeat strike me from her clarification.

I hadn't actually thought deeply about the idea of love, but I would've told her I love her in an instant.

I was ready to say it back.

Because I do love her—whether it's her eyes or the way she laughs.

I love the smell of her fresh perfume in the morning when she kisses me goodbye.

I also love the way her hand fits in mine, or how she holds me so close at night.

I love her.

I love Monroe.

And I think my reaction to her even mentioning the word love just fucked that all up.

Or maybe she didn't mean it like that.

We only just started dating... but it's also been months.

We've been entangled for months now.

"Monroe—"

"Perhaps I am selfish, Liberty," she suddenly spoke, her stare not once meeting mine. "Perhaps I despise the idea of you being independent."

I furrowed my brows, unsure if she was suddenly pushing me away because of what just happened.

Or if she meant these words.

"I like the idea of you being dependent on me because," Monroe paused, looking down at her lap with a look that made my chest grow tight.

"I don't want you to leave me."

Her words were softer and entirely vulnerable, still refusing to meet my stare.

"Yes, it's my parents. I don't want them targeting you," she whispered, letting out the heaviest sigh, "But I also don't want you to have an option to leave me. I want you to stay forever, and so yes, Liberty. I was manipulating you."

I remained silent for a moment, processing what she had just admitted.

"Monroe," I whispered, sliding my legs away from her lap.

But only so I could straddle her instead, placing my legs on either side of her body.

Monroe let me, but she didn't glance up.

And she definitely didn't reach for me.

She was just still underneath me.

"Baby, I'm never going to leave you," I whispered.

Monroe only shook her head, parting her lips, but no words came out.

She leaned into me before I could process it, burying her face in my chest.

"Please take the break, Liberty," Monroe said, her words muffled against my chest. "I'll do anything."

My entire face fell at her vulnerable words, processing that she was genuinely begging me right now.

She rarely begs me for anything—at least not like this. 

"I'm not leaving you, Monroe," I repeated again, hoping to get through to her. "I'm never leaving you."

"You can't make that promise," she whispered, wrapping her arms around my waist to hold me even tighter to her. "You can't promise that you'll willingly stay with me forever."

Her words were so broken that it made tears blur my vision, not realizing how deep this was to her.

Even if I were unwilling to stay, Monroe wouldn't care.

She just wanted me to always be here.

I don't know, I think that's so fucking sad.

She doesn't think someone would willingly stay with her.

She doesn't know unconditional love.

Maybe she's scared, too?

She's never done any of this before with someone, neither of us has, and she warned me about her obsessive tendencies.

The deeper she gets—the deeper we get, the more control she loses over herself.

She's willingly given herself to me, and now she's afraid I'll leave.

I'm the first person who truly gets her—I see her in ways no one else has.

A soft sigh fell from my lips as I ran my arms around her neck, hugging her to me as I caressed the back of her head.

"I can't be dependent on you, baby," I softly whispered, knowing that's not a route I should take.

"Why?" Monroe asked, her voice so unbelievably soft with me. "I'll truly make you happy, Liberty. You know I'll go to any lengths for you."

"I know-I know," I quickly assured her, caressing the back of her head. "But we both know dependence isn't healthy," I said, recalling how bad it was and still is with my mother.

Monroe remained silent, and I knew I was finally speaking closer to her language.

In a therapist way, I knew she understood.

It's so weird to think that therapists are struggling more than any of their patients.

Monroe was taught to use her techniques against people, so that doesn't help either.

And then it was instilled in her to fix other people, but she was never allowed to break down herself.

"It's not healthy," Monroe agreed, "But what if I don't want healthy, Liberty? What if I just want you?"

I unconsciously leaned in closer to her, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"I want you too, Monroe. Always you," I whispered, resting my head on top of hers. "But I'm still standing on my decision here. I need to work, baby."

Silence.

That's all there was.

And then Monroe nodded, but she didn't say anything.

She only acknowledged my words with that one nod, and then didn't say anything else.

I didn't know what to say or do.

I just relaxed into our hug, gently running my fingers through her soft brown hair.

I sat with her like that for minutes on end.

I nearly fell asleep at one point.

I had to force myself back awake, finally leaning away from our hug.

"Do you want to get ready for bed?" I finally whispered, breaking the silence between us.

Monroe leaned away from my chest, but didn't meet my stare.

"Go ahead, darling," she murmured, "I think I'll stay here for a little longer."

I drew in a deep breath, my eyes trailing her face.

She felt broken.

It felt like I just broke her. 

"I can stay," I suddenly determined.

"No," Monroe whispered, lightly tapping my waist, "Go get ready for bed."

I didn't move.

At least until she tapped my waist again, motioning me up.

I wanted to stay, but I also didn't want to force anything.

If she wants to be alone, then I should respect that and give her space.

Maybe by the time I brush my teeth and stuff, she'll be ready to go to bed.

"I'm going to your other room," I specified as I slid off her lap and stood to my feet. "The forest green one."

Monroe nodded a few times, but didn't say anything else.

She just stared ahead at the unlit fireplace, leaving me to walk off silently.

I knew she was struggling with the possibility of me leaving her, and I couldn't do anything about it except reassure her.

The walk up to her room was hard.

All I wanted to do was go right back to her, but I know how she operates, and I know she needed time with her thoughts.

It's just hard sometimes.

Especially when I made up to her quiet room, eyeing the picture she kept of me on her nightstand.

At least I didn't tell her I love her.

That might've been awkward and overwhelming for her.

She just loved a trait about me, and here I am automatically wanting to drop the L word with her.

I let out a deep sigh, glancing away from the picture on the nightstand as I walked toward the attached bathroom.

I went ahead and brushed my teeth, washing my face after before doing my skincare.

Then I got comfortable in the large bed.

Or I tried to.

Nothing felt right when she wasn't beside me.

I felt colder and so uncomfortable.

Monroe was like my pillow—she was a sleep necessity to me.

Eventually, I fell asleep after lying there with my eyes closed for minutes on end.

It was only a few hours later when I jolted awake, unconsciously patting the bed around me.

Empty.

It was empty.

She never came upstairs.

I quickly got up from the bed, wrapping the comforter around me as I walked out of the room.

I passed the hallway that had all my favorite pictures of her, heading down the stairs I had just come up hours earlier.

The kitchen was dark, only the stove light on, and the microwave displaying the time—

2:37 am.

The house was quiet in the worst way, and all I wanted was her.

Monroe was still on the couch where I left her, except she was lying down now with her eyes closed.

She still wore her pencil skirt and button-down shirt, most likely falling asleep down here in the midst of fighting her own thoughts.

I quickly rounded the couch, approaching her form outlined by the dim lights spilling in from the kitchen.

I stared at her for a few moments, appreciating her entire existence.

Then I suddenly laid down on the couch with her, wrapping the cover I brought around us both.

Monroe stirred from her sleep slightly as I wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her from behind.

She didn't open her eyes—she just let out a soft breath, instinctively grabbing my hands at her stomach to hold in hers.

I nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck, pressing a featherlight kiss to her soft skin.

"I'm here forever," I whispered so softly, even if she was barely half awake. "I can promise that."

My soft words clung to the silent air, but Monroe was too deep in her sleep to process them.

I didn't need her to, honestly—I just wanted to say it.

I needed to verbally declare it.

I let out a sigh, relaxing against her warm body as I tangled my legs with hers.

All I could do was bask in this moment, feeling entirely grateful for her presence here with me.

Now I could actually sleep in peace.

The couch was weirdly comfortable, and the cushions were wide, so we fit together with a little extra room.

I fell into a deep sleep before I could process it—the next thing I knew, I was waking up to her moving around me.

"Hey," I said, rubbing my eyes as she stood from the couch.

"Good morning," Monroe said, her blue eyes meeting mine.

The morning sun was barely poking through the windows, so I knew it must still be early.

I let out a soft sigh when she caressed her hand against my cheek, openly staring down at me.

"Go back to sleep, darling," she softly whispered, making me shake my head. "We'll talk later on."

"No," I whispered, squeezing my heavy eyes shut before forcing them open. "I want to see you now. I always miss you during the day."

Monroe gently tucked some of my stray curls behind my ear. "We'll do lunch then," she offered.

I furrowed my brows. "So you're not mad at me?" I whispered.

Monroe tilted her head. "No, Liberty," she didn't hesitate to say, sitting back down on the couch beside me. "I was never mad at you, darling."

I nodded once.

Then I suddenly shook my head. "But you slept on the couch, and then you were upset with me last night."

Monroe let out a heavy sigh, now cupping my face in both of her hands.

"I wasn't upset with you, my sweet girl," she said, her stare not wavering from mine. "This isn't about you. This is all me."

I nodded again, staring up at her for a moment as I processed her words.

She's struggling with this entire situation, but it's not about me—this is her.

She's not mad at me.

She doesn't blame me.

"Okay," I suddenly whispered, briefly pursing my lips. "I... want to help you if you'll let me."

Monroe hummed softly, focused on caressing her thumb along my cheekbone.

"I'll always let you, Liberty. I simply needed a moment to myself last night," she explained, making me nod a few times. "How about I lay with you for a few more minutes, darling?"

I immediately nodded again, holding my arms out for her.

Monroe naturally leaned down, spreading her legs out against mine as she rested her head on my chest.

I let out a content breath, closing my eyes again as I gently played with her soft hair.

Monroe relaxed against me, her body so warm against mine.

"Apparently, you and Zion and besties now?" I suddenly asked, deciding to lighten the mood a little. "I didn't even realize you exchanged numbers."

"We were discussing the trip he wanted to take. I faintly remember it being after Uno," she murmured, making me smile slightly.

They must've exchanged numbers while Sarai and I were making them plates of spaghetti.

"Tulum sounds lovely for us, darling," she whispered softly.

My smile grew, "Oh, so you're going?"

"In what world would I let you go alone, Liberty?" Monroe asked, clearly amused by my question.

It made me laugh softly.

"Good point," I murmured, knowing Monroe definitely wasn't going to let me go all alone.

"Are you going to all our grad parties too?" I curiously asked, unconsciously opening my eyes.

"That depends," Monroe said, lifting her head up to meet my stare. "When do you plan on telling your mother?"

I blinked a few times, realizing I had completely forgotten about that.

Or the fact that Monroe couldn't technically come to these parties or events.

At least not by my side.

"Soon," I whispered before I could think it through.

"When is soon, Liberty?" Monroe asked, now picking up on the fact that I never set aside a time to talk to my mother.

Or maybe Monroe picked up on that the first time I used the word soon.

I'll tell my mother soon.

Just not now.

I'm not ready for now.

"I'll figure it out," I suddenly determined.

Monroe didn't say anything in response.

She just stared at me for a moment.

A very long moment.

Her expression was neutral, but I knew there was a lot going on in her head.

Then finally, she nodded, fully laying up from me.

"I should get ready for work," Monroe said, briefly kissing my forehead.

Then she stood to her feet before I could say anything else.

The topic about my mother was dropped faster than I could process.

Monroe had already walked past the couch, heading down the hallway to go get ready.

I was left alone in the most defeating silence, realizing I had definitely said the wrong thing.

Fuck, I'm so bad at all of this.

It feels like I never say the right thing.

Maybe I should tell my mother sooner rather than later.

It's not like she has any control over me now.

I don't know why I'm scared.

Then again, she sent me to therapy, and now I'm dating my therapist.

It's not a good look, if I'm honest.

And she's going to make sure I know that.

Still, Monroe and I deserve to be public.

We already had the issue with her meeting my friends—I don't need another one with my mother.

Monroe is clearly struggling after our conversation last night, too.

I think it's time I reached out to Maris and just let her know.

She doesn't have any say in what I do with my life anyway.

Right?

Yes-yes, I'm an adult, I make my own choices.

I'm still fucking scared though.

God only knows what she'll say or how she'll react.