Love In Tears

A few minutes later, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo sat across from each other at the kitchen table, nursing cups of hot cocoa. The unopened envelope sat on the table between them like a crouching gargoyle, its presence impossible to ignore. The ticking of the wall clock seemed only to add weight to the heavy silence rather than break it as the two mares sipped their drinks, unable to meet each other’s eyes. The faint scent of chocolate and marshmallows lingered in the air, mixing with the sharp winter chill that still clung to Scootaloo's jacket. Pearlescent rubbed against Scootaloo’s leg, then hopped up in her lap, drawing an involuntary smile from both mares. “Hey, Pearl,” Scootaloo murmured as she rubbed the cat between the ears with a forehoof. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“So…” Sweetie Belle hesitated, turning her cocoa cup around and around between her hooves. “How’s Rainboom?”

Scootaloo glanced up from Pearlescent, her smile taking on a tentative cast. “He’s good,” she replied. “He’s hibernating right now, burrowed in right next to Tank.” She paused, licking her lips as though her next words were stuck there. “Um…I’ve seen you…at work, I mean,” she finally ventured. “You seem…together.” Immediately, she winced. “Sorry…poor choice of words.”

Sweetie Belle shook her head with a tired, reluctant chuckle. “It’s okay,” she murmured, focusing on looking at Pearlescent to avoid Scootaloo’s eyes. “I’m…” She felt her throat tighten up again and she swallowed painfully. “I want to say I’m alright, but…I’m not.” She shook her head and took another sip of her cocoa. Finally, she raised her eyes, though she found herself focusing on her ex-wife’s muzzle instead of looking her in the eye. “I miss you, Scootaloo…I miss both of you. Apple Bloom went back to the farm, Rainbow Dash let you come stay in her cloudominium, and I’ve…been here. Alone.” She glanced down at the feline snuggling against Scootaloo’s chest. “Pearl helps, but…it’s not the same.”

Scootaloo winced, her ears pinning back as her eyes dropped. She took her cocoa mug between both forehooves, sipping carefully. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry. I…” she sighed, taking another sip of her cocoa. “I can’t say how sorry I am,” she whispered as she lowered the mug. “For everything. For leaving you like that, so soon after we lost Apple Bloom. For not trying harder. I just…” She swirled her cocoa around a few times, watching a marshmallow dissolve. "I just didn’t know how to face you," she whispered. "Every time I tried to write you a letter or come by or talk to you at work, I’d think about the look on your face when I left, and I’d…I’d chicken out. It wasn’t fair to you, but…but I just couldn’t."

Sweetie Belle’s gaze dropped to the envelope. “It was always the three of us, wasn’t it?” she murmured, her voice soft and hollow. “And I thought it was always going to be the three of us. Even when we were off doing our own things, pursuing different interests, we always came back to each other.” She blew out a breath, letting it puff her cheeks out for a moment. “I knew you and Apple Bloom better than anyone…or I thought I did.” She shook her head, running a hoof over her mane. “You two were my home, my family, more than my parents or even Rarity. I…” Her voice hitched and she had to force down a sob. “I really thought, when you confessed to us, that all my dreams were coming true…that we were going to get our own fairy tale ending. Happily ever after.”

The captive sob finally broke free and Sweetie Belle shook her head, raising a forehoof to dash away her tears. "The house has felt so quiet without you," she said, her voice trembling. "Every creak and groan sounds louder, every empty chair seems to scream at me. I barely use the dining table because it reminds me of us sitting together, laughing and sharing stories over dinner. It’s like…I can still feel you here, even though I know you’re not." Her lips curved in a faint, bittersweet smile, her lips trembling. "I remember Apple Bloom laughing so hard at one of your jokes, she spat cider all over the table," she murmured. "We spent an hour cleaning up after that, but I didn’t care. I had you two. It felt like I’d have you forever." Her voice cracked, and she pressed a hoof to her mouth as though it might hold her pain inside.

Scootaloo seemed to hunch down farther and farther under the weight of Sweetie Belle’s words, her shoulders rising defensively as her ears pinning back. Her wings seemed to twitch, as though restless to break free of her disability and take flight, to flee the heaviness of the moment. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice the barest whisper. “I…it doesn’t excuse me leaving you like that, but I was hurting, too. When Apple Bloom left, it was like…like I was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit anymore." Scootaloo paused, swallowing audibly, her voice thick with emotion when she continued. “And you—you were the one thing still holding me together, Sweetie Belle. But it hurt, because every time I looked at you, I thought of her. Of us. And I hated myself for not being strong enough to make it work. Having you there, but not her…”

Scootaloo shook her head, her own eyes glistening with tears as her feathery bangs tumbled over her forehead. “Maybe it should have made it easier, still having you there, but it didn’t. It was like this constant ache…like when I lost that tooth crashing my scooter and I couldn’t stop probing the socket with my tongue, but in my heart.” She shuddered, finally looking up at Sweetie Belle from under her eyelashes. “I…like you said, it was always the three of us, since we were ten years old,” she murmured. “I think…I think once Apple Bloom left, I had to find out who I am without you.”

Sweetie Belle’s laugh was soft and bitter. “I remember you used to hate stuff like looking inside and finding out who you are,” she said quietly. “You thought to get our cutie marks, we just had to find something awesome enough to do.” She shook her head, sipping at her cocoa and wishing she had something stronger. “So, did you? Find out, I mean,” she asked.

Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders as Pearlescent hopped from her lap up onto the table. “I…well, I’m still not sure,” she murmured. “You two were such a huge part of me for so long. But…” She looked up from her cocoa, forcing herself to meet Sweetie Belle’s eyes. “But I do know that my life is emptier without you and Apple Bloom in it. And even if Apple Bloom doesn’t want to be part of…this…anymore…” Scootaloo motioned vaguely between Sweetie Belle and herself, her voice trailing off

Sweetie Belle’s breath caught in her throat at Scootaloo’s confession, her eyes welling up with tears once again. She swallowed hard, looking away from the orange pegasus and not replying for several long moments. Finally, she asked, “Have you talked to Apple Bloom? Or heard from her?”

Instead of replying verbally, Scootaloo reached into the pocket of her jacket and took out an envelope, placing it next to Sweetie Belle’s on the table. Other than the address, the creases from being carried around in such a manner and still being completely sealed, it was identical to the one Sweetie Belle had been agonizing over. “I got this a week ago,” Scootaloo murmured. “I…haven’t had the nerve to open it.”

Sweetie Belle’s magic flickered faintly around her mug, her breath hitching at the sight of the second envelope. A lump rose in her throat, the weight of unspoken words suddenly heavier, as if Apple Bloom’s letter carried the power to rebuild—or irreparably shatter—what was left of their broken bond. The thought of brash, carefree Scootaloo being afraid to open a simple envelope drew another involuntary laugh/sob from the unicorn mare. She stared at the two identical envelopes, her magic flickering faintly around hers. The room felt unbearably still, save for the faint ticking of the clock and the soft rumble of Pearlescent’s purring. “They look the same,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think they say the same thing?”

Scootaloo’s wings twitched again, her hoof brushing against her own envelope before pulling back. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But...I think I need to hear what she said to you first.” Her voice cracked slightly as she added, “I don’t know if I can handle mine on my own.”

Sweetie Belle hesitated, her gaze flicking between Scootaloo and the letter she had started to open earlier. Slowly, she picked it up in her telekinesis, her hooves trembling slightly as she continued to tear the seam she had begun earlier. “Alright,” she said softly, her throat tight. “We’ll do mine first.”

Opening the envelope revealed a simple Hearth’s Warming card inside, bearing an illustration of Clover the Clever, Private Pansy and Smart Cookie gathered around the first Flame of Friendship. When Sweetie Belle opened the card, a photograph fell out, along with a folded square of paper. Sweetie Belle glanced down at the picture…Apple Bloom posing with Rumble and the Apple family in front of the barn…then read aloud the printed message inside the card. "As the First Flame of Friendship melted the winter’s chill, may love, kindness, and harmony warm your Hearth's Warming still.” Under the greeting-card message was a simple, “Love always, Apple Bloom.”

Sniffling, Sweetie Belle passed the card and photograph over to Scootaloo, then picked the folded paper up in her telekinesis and unfolded it. Taking a deep, bracing breath, she began to read aloud.