Page 59 of Loving Lauren
It was a tiny glimmer of hope, a fragile seed in the darkness. Small and delicate, but present nonetheless.
Chapter 34
Five months in, winter was creeping into the city. All the leaves had finally given up and died, covering the sidewalks in a crunchy carpet of brown and yellow. The air got that cold bite which made Sierra zip up her jacket, but she didn’t hate it anymore.
She’d stopped flinching every time her alarm went off, though she still had this stupid habit of checking her phone first thing in the morning. Just in case. There never was.
But there were these brief moments now. Glimmers of something that might eventually become okay.
She’d been working on this photography thing for Jonas. He kept bugging her to put together a gallery show. She spent forever arranging prints all over her living room floor like some crazy person, staying up too late editing until her eyes wanted to fall out of her head.
The last photo she picked was from Hawaii. She and Lauren on that perfect beach, laughing at something stupid, all golden and happy. To most people, it probably just looked like a nicevacation photo. But to Sierra it was everything. It was tucked away in the middle of all these other ocean shots and random portraits like a secret.
She didn’t tell anyone the actual story behind that photograph. Didn’t need to. Some things belonged only to the heart that held them.
At the opening, Sierra put on her lucky black jumpsuit, the one that always made her feel like she had her life together, and nursed a glass of prosecco while trying not to stare at the Hawaii photo.
People drifted around making those art gallery sounds, you know, “mmm, such interesting use of light,” and taking Instagram selfies in front of her stuff. Some woman with expensive glasses called her “an artist with a soul that truly sees,” and Sierra smiled politely while internally rolling her eyes. But then this guy in a ridiculous hipster beanie made a terrible pun about one of her blurry sunset shots, something about “romantic smog pollution,” and she laughed. Genuine laughter that came from somewhere deep in her chest.
It shocked her. The sound felt so weird coming out of her mouth after months of nothing, and then she felt guilty for laughing when Lauren wasn’t there to hear it. But when she laughed again a few minutes later at something else equally stupid, it came easier, and it didn’t feel like betrayal anymore. It felt surprisingly good. Maybe she could still find things funny, even when her heart was still healing.
Her parents showed up halfway through, looking out of place but genuinely proud. Her mom immediately started taking photos of Sierra standing next to her pieces, fumbling slightly with her phone.
Mom started angling for a better shot. “Smile, sweetheart, I want to get you with that beautiful sunset piece.”
Her mom’s phone suddenly went dark. The screen had timed out. As she pressed the power button to wake it back up, Sierra caught a glimpse of the lock screen before her mom entered her passcode. She saw the rainbow PFLAG logo bright against a simple background.
Her throat went tight. Her mom had been learning, quietly and on her own, trying to understand this part of Sierra’s world.
“Mom.” Sierra’s eyes suddenly misty.
Her mom looked up from her phone, concerned. “What’s wrong, honey? Did I miss the shot?”
Instead of answering, Sierra stepped closer and wrapped her arm around her mom’s shoulders. “Take a selfie with me?”
Mom’s whole face just lit up. She held out her phone, and they both smiled as it clicked. In the picture, Sierra’s eyes were all watery, and Mom looked so happy and proud, clueless that she’d just made Sierra’s entire week with one stupid little gesture.
That night, Sierra flopped on the couch, and Salem made himself at home on her lap. He did that annoying kneading thing on her leg for like five minutes before finally turning into a furry black blob.
She scratched behind his ears. “I miss them too, buddy.”
His tail twitched once, as if to say, “Yeah, but I’m always right here”. Typical Salem, always reminding her that some love sticks around even when people bail.
The windows were getting all foggy from the heat being cranked up, and she could still smell her chamomile tea from earlier. She pulled her favorite blanket up to her chin andwatched it snow outside. The flakes looked like tiny stars under the streetlight.
These brief moments didn’t fix everything. Not even close. She still had a Lauren-sized hole in her chest that probably wasn’t going anywhere, but at least she remembered that life kept happening around her, and she was still part of it somehow.
Still breathing. Still capable of random laughter and feeling okay sometimes, even when she didn’t see it coming.
Chapter 35
Month six arrived with the icy rain that made everything look gray and muted, but Sierra found herself oddly comforted by its steady rhythm against her windows. Her daily routine had become second nature by now... work, clean the apartment, teach her classes, exist in whatever way felt manageable that day. She wasn’t anywhere close to whole yet, but she was genuinely present in her own life again. Most days, that felt like a pretty significant victory.
The community center manager approached her after one of her regular classes with a request. Would she maybe give a little talk about using art to heal?
Sierra’s gut reaction was absolutely not. Standing up in front of a bunch of strangers talking about her feelings? Her stomach tied itself in knots just thinking about it, but then she looked around at her students packing up their stuff. These people dragged themselves here every week even when they were falling apart. She could see their pain in every messy charcoal sketch,every wonky painting they worked on. They were all carrying heavy trauma, just like her.
“Okay. Yeah, I’ll do it.”
