Sunset frowned as she glanced at her phone. She was getting worried. Two days, and Cookie had yet to answer her texts. They'd had days before where Cookie was so wrapped up in her work that she might miss a day. But, those days also often coincided with when she was on a business trip.
Unless she was suddenly called away. Even then, Sunset would have received a brief text of explanation.
No, Cookie was still in town. But, remaining silent.
With the sound of the last bell, Sunset was immediately on her motorbike and headed towards Cookie's residence.
Reaching the house, she parked her bike in the driveway and ran to the front door. “Cookie?” she called, ringing the bell.
No answer.
She tried again. “Cookie? Please? Can we talk? If it was something I did, I'm sorry. But, please, honey? Let me know what it was!” She let out a yelp as the door slowly opened. A slight wave of relief washed over her. “Cookie, what's going on? Are you okay? You've had me so worried.”
“No,” Cookie said, solemnly, “I'm okay.”
“Then, why haven't you been answering my texts?”
“Why don't you come in?”
Greatly confused, Sunset stepped inside and followed Cookie to the living room. “Are you feeling alright?”
Cookie took in a deep breath, “Sunset, we need to talk.”
Sunset felt a pit form in her stomach as she sat down, “Oh, no...”
“I'm sorry," Cookie said, "I should have answered your texts. I didn't mean to scare you.”
“Please,” Sunset pleaded, pulling Cookie to be seated next to her, “just tell me what is going on.”
“I've been talking with Rarity.”
“What?” Sunset blinked, “That's great news! Isn't it? You've been wanting to be closer to her.” She studied her girlfriend's face, “Cookie?”
“I'm thinking maybe we should call it off.”
A lump formed in Sunset's throat, “Call what off?”
“Us.”
Sunset's brow furled, “What? Why?” She felt Cookie's hands encase hers. Her confusion grew as Cookie choked on her words:
“You and Rarity mean so much to me. And, I also know how much you two mean to each other. And," she took in a deep breath, "I don't want to be the wedge that drives you two apart.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Surely, you've noticed it, too.”
Sunset's posture fell. “Yeah," she said, solemnly, "but I've mostly just been ignoring it. She was never really happy with us being together, was she?”
“No, as much as she tried.”
“I'm just sorry she feels that way.”
“It's not entirely her fault,” Cookie said, sternly, “I'm afraid I'm much to blame.” She choked up a little as Sunset arose from the couch and walked to the other end of the room.
“Well, I guess we both knew it couldn't last. Only a matter of time before...” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “It was fun while it lasted.”
“I've had fun these past months, too,” Cookie said, “Though, I hope that this doesn't mean that we're done for good. I'd like for us to remain friends and, maybe, one day, we could pick up where we left off?”
“That'd be nice. Well,” Sunset sighed, “I guess I'll be going, then.” She started to walk towards the door, but something held her. Looking back, she saw Cookie was still holding her hand, their fingers interlaced. She looked questioningly at Cookie.
The older woman gave a weak smile, “If this is it, I'd like to have one, last weekend together. One we can both remember.”
Sunset smiled slightly as they fell into a tearful embrace, “I'd like that.”