Chapter Text
It's been 10 days since they freed Carla. 10 days since Becky fled to God-knows-where. Everyone else seemed to think it was over. Finished, done. But Lisa couldn’t live with that ending. The ending she created, at least that's what she tells herself.
Lisa has been calling Carla nonstop. Sometimes the calls went straight to voicemail; sometimes they rang until her chest hurt. When she thought Carla was in Lanzarote, she'd called just to hear her voice, even if it was a recorded one.
Two days after Carla left the hospital, she sent Ryan to collect her things, saying she was staying with Roy until she figured out what to do next. Lisa didn't know why she expected Carla to come herself but seeing Ryan turn up, hurt her more than she thought it would.
Lisa drank constantly since then. Not to forget - forgetting was impossible - but to quiet the thought that wouldn't leave her mind: Becky only got to Carla because of her. Every glass was a failed attempt to drown the memory she couldn't escape - Becky beside her, skin against skin, a night she didn’t remember, waking up only knowing that something had gone horribly wrong.
Ever since her dead wife showed up, she had never wanted Becky. She would never have agreed to that. Her heart belonged to Carla.
Lisa tried to piece that night together, for herself and for Carla. But how can you explain something you can't remember? Lisa remembers drinking, saying yes to a massage. Next thing she knew she woke up, naked, beside her ex-wife, and the world felt like it had shattered around her.
She barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up, unsure whether it was the alcohol or the crushing weight of what she thought she’d done. She threw Becky out. Then broke - sobbing so hard she collapsed onto the floor, shaking, choking on shame. When Betsy found her, Lisa said nothing. Some truths felt too poisonous to speak aloud.
How can you tell your daughter her favorite mother - the good cop if you will - might have violated her? How do you say it out loud without watching something shatter in her eyes?
Her thoughts slid somewhere dark and familiar. Before Carla, she had lived like this - not wanting to die exactly, but not caring whether she lived. Just getting through the day. Just existing. Carla had pulled her out of that place. She had brought color back into a draining world, brought joy back into Lisa’s life.
Now the joy was gone.
For the past ten days, the thoughts had crept back, heavier each morning. She didn’t know how to stop them - or if she even wanted to. She had hurt the one person she swore she'd love forever. The weight of it crushed her.
That morning, after throwing Becky out, something inside her went quiet. Not calm, just empty. Like the world had decided to move on without her. She sat with the certainty that everyone would be better off if she wasn't in the way.
The following evening, after draining another bottle, Lisa wanted to call Carla again. By the time she reached for her phone, her hands shook, her vision blurred. Carla’s name swam on the screen, almost unreadable - and still, Lisa managed to call her again. For the tenth time that day. As if hearing her voice could stop the hurt.
Carla didn't pick up, just like she hadn't since leaving for Lanzarote.
Though, Lisa wanted to leave one last voicemail.
Hi-
Hi Carla. It’s me. I- um. Yeah. It’s me.
I don’t really know how to start this. I keep starting it and stopping and then - God, I’m sorry. I don’t even know what words are supposed to fix the hurt I caused you. I don’t think there are words for that. I just know I broke something. I broke us. And that’s on me.
Before you hang up - please don’t hang up - there’s something I need to say. I want to explain what happened between Rebecca and me. I just… I need you to know what I remember. Which isn’t much. That’s the problem.
I remember drinking, Rebecca brought some new posh wine. I said yes to the massage Rebecca offered. I said yes to the massage because it didn’t feel like a thing at the time, I’ve said yes to massages before. Like - lots of times. It wasn’t a thing. Then it goes blank, next thing I know I wake up next to her without clothes. I wish I could tell you more but I swear, I don't remember anything. I would NEVER betray you like that. I've never wanted to get back with Rebecca.
I keep asking myself - and I hate that I’m even asking it - but did she… did she do something to my drink? I don’t know how else to explain the missing pieces. And I’m so scared that even asking that makes me sound like I’m lying. I’m not. I’m just lost.
Carla.. did she rape me?
I used to think Rebecca was the love of my life. That was before I met you, before I was loved by you. You changed what love even meant to me. Carla, it's only ever been you, it'll only ever be you. Our love is the greatest thing I've ever experienced and I'm so proud to call you my fiancee.
I wish she never came back from the dead. Oops, I shouldn't say that. You know how I get when I have too much truth drug.
I miss you so much it’s stupid. Like - no, not stupid. I mean it hurts. It’s in my chest and my throat and my hands won’t stop shaking and I keep thinking if I just sit still long enough it’ll pass, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t pass. I keep almost saying your name like you’re here. And then my brain catches up and it’s like - oh, right. You’re not. And that’s because of me.
We were supposed to be indestructible. You remember me saying that after our engagement announcement in the Rovers?
I keep trying to be strong, but I keep failing. Everything feels really loud tonight. My thoughts won’t stay in order. I keep losing the beginning of sentences before I get to the end. I’m sorry if this is hard to listen to. You don’t have to listen. I mean you don’t but please, I just need to say all of this
I don’t think I ever told you this properly - I really should have - but you’re unbelievable, Carla. Like, You walk around acting all tough, sarcastic, untouchable, but underneath? God. You have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. You made me feel safe in a way I didn’t even know existed. I could just… be. With you. And you never made me feel small or broken or like I had to earn your love. You just gave it. Like it was obvious. Like it was easy. And I know you don’t see yourself the way I see you - but you’re brave and kind and so stupidly good. You are the most beautiful, confounding, complicated and infuriating woman I've ever met.
I just- I needed you to hear my voice. Even if you hate me right now. I needed you to know that loving you is the realest thing I’ve ever done. The only thing that has ever felt so right.
You are the love of my life. I love you so much.
I'm so sorry, baby
Lisa barely finished the voicemail before she collapsed into herself again. Her chest burned from holding too much and saying too little. There was still so much she wanted to tell Carla, so much she wanted to do - a future now impossibly out of reach.
That was on Lisa.
That was the part she couldn’t outrun.
When the crying finally stopped, she pushed herself up from the floor. Her body felt heavy. She moved through the living room without thinking, knocking things over. Every photo of Rebecca shattered against the floor. Glass everywhere. Proof she could still break things.
Upstairs, she dressed slowly, carefully, choosing one of her favourite outfits.
She knew she'd had too much to drink. She knew she shouldn’t make any decisions like this tonight. But it didn’t stop her. She decided - drunkenly, deliberately - to take pills she knew she shouldn’t take, mixed recklessly with alcohol. Something she knew she wouldn't be able to take back.
The bathroom light buzzed when she flicked it on. Too bright. Too loud. She took her razor out of the shower and returned to the bedroom.
The bedroom felt colder than it should have. Lisa lowered herself to the floor beside the bed she'd share with Carla, her back against the frame, the weight of the room pressing in on her. She pulled a photo into her hands - the two of them, smiling - and held it to her chest. She focused on her breathing.
Time stopped making sense.
And just before the dark could settle fully - just before she let go of the last thread holding her upright - she heard the front door slam open.
A voice. Panicked. Shouting her name over and over as it came closer.