Page 25 of Loving Lauren
Her chest tightened, ribs cinching as if they were bracing for bad weather.
Bean & Bloom was next. Their usual table sat empty, as did the one by the window. The barista shook her head when Sierra asked if Lauren had been around.
That night, Sierra went to their apartment.
When the door finally opened, Lauren looked dimmer. Washed out. Like someone had turned the brightness down.
Their eyes met.
Sierra didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward and pulled them into a hug. “I missed you,” she whispered.
Lauren nodded into her shoulder, their voice barely audible. “I missed you, too.”
They talked little that night. Words felt too small for the ache of missing someone who had slowly become essential.
Instead, they curled up on Sierra’s couch under a shared blanket, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room. Outside, the world kept spinning, but inside, everything stilled.
Lauren’s head rested on Sierra’s shoulder, warm and familiar. Sierra turned slightly, brushing her lips against their temple.
“You okay?” her voice was barely above a whisper.
Lauren hesitated, breath hitching a little. “Didn’t think I’d miss you this much. That’s all.”
Sierra shifted to see them better. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t call or text. It was a brutal time. I missed you, too. I didn’t see you coming, but now I can’t imagine doing any of this without you.”
Lauren let out a quiet laugh, rolling their eyes, but it was gentler than usual. “You’re lucky I have a soft spot for cheesy.”
“I am lucky. Lucky to have found you, and I might be cheesy, but I mean every word.”
They leaned into each other, then, foreheads resting together, breath shared like a secret neither of them wanted to end. The closeness that didn’t ask for more. It just was.
The movie ended unnoticed. The screen dimmed, and the room hushed. Lauren’s hand found Sierra’s under the blanket, their fingers threading instinctively. Sierra squeezed once, like a promise.
Home,she thought.This is what it feels like.
Chapter 14
The days after her trip felt different. Their rhythm was off, trying to find its beat again.
Lauren didn’t show up with coffee the next morning. Sierra brought them instead. They wandered downtown, but it wasn’t spontaneous like before. Sierra had to nudge Lauren to join her. At the second shop, Lauren finally reached out and took Sierra’s hand, their fingers lacing like they remembered how.
The ease hadn’t vanished; it had shifted to something softer and more cautious.
Sierra noticed the pause before Lauren laughed, the hesitation before their jokes landed. So, she filled the space with warmth. Sent more voice notes. Invited them to sketch with her on the porch. Asked about new makeup ideas, even if she didn’t understand half the terms.
One night, Lauren brought over their laptop and played an old black-and-white movie Sierra had never seen. They curled on the couch, a bowl of peanut butter pretzels between them, Salem snoring on Lauren’s lap.
“You always bring snacks I end up addicted to.” Sierra reached for another.
Lauren grinned faintly. “I enjoy knowing you’ll think of me when you eat them.”
Later, Sierra pulled her sketchbook onto her lap and quietly started sketching. Not with intention, just movement. Lines. Curves. Familiar shapes.
Lauren noticed. “Is that me?”
Sierra didn’t look up. “It’s not finished.”
“Doesn’t have to be. I still see myself.”
