Chapter 37
They walked the last few blocks to Sierra’s apartment in complete silence, the kind that felt heavy with everything they couldn’t say.
The icy rain had turned the sidewalks into a treacherous skating rink, and Lauren’s cheeks were bright pink from the biting cold, their breath coming out in visible puffs like ghosts of words they weren’t ready to say yet.
When they finally stepped inside the warm apartment, Salem immediately let out his most dramatic meow and launched himself toward Lauren like a furry missile.
But when Lauren crouched down to greet him the way they always used to, the cat sniffed once, gave a low, deeply judgmental trill, and turned away with his tail held high in obvious disdain.
“Holding a grudge, huh, buddy? I don’t blame you. It’s my fault.” Lauren watched him stalk away.
Sierra stood awkwardly by the kitchen counter, unsure what to do with her hands. The familiar apartment felt strange with Lauren in it again, like a song played in the wrong key. “So...” she started, then stopped. “I guess we should talk.”
Lauren opened their mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Started again. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
The silence stretched between them, not comfortable like it used to be, but loaded with six months of hurt. Sierra wrapped her arms around herself. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“I did. I do.” Lauren ran a hand through their hair, the gesture achingly familiar. “Sierra, I need to apologize for how I ended things between us. I was hurt and terrified, and I handled it in the worst possible way.”
They took a shaky breath. “I thought if I pushed you away before you inevitably left on your own, it wouldn’t destroy me completely.
I genuinely thought I was doing you some kind of favor, giving you a shot at a simpler life without me there to complicate everything.
I was so afraid that loving me would cost you your family the same way it cost me mine. ”
Sierra stared at them, something sharp and protective rising in her chest. “Six months, Lauren. Six months of nothing, and now you want to explain?” Her voice was steady, but there was steel underneath.
Lauren flinched. “I know how it sounds—”
“Do you?” Her voice cracked slightly. “Because it sounds like you made a decision for both of us and then disappeared. You didn’t give me a choice.”
“Then I saw you with him, and I thought maybe you’d be better off with someone easier. Someone your family could accept without question.” Their voice grew smaller.
Sierra felt tears threatening, but anger was stronger. “Josh meant nothing to me. Less than nothing. I should’ve mentioned running into him, but I didn’t think it mattered because to me, it genuinely didn’t. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.”
“I know. I was wrong about everything.” Lauren stepped closer, then stopped when they saw Sierra tense.
“I think I understand now where your reaction came from. All that pain, all the abandonment you’ve carried. But understanding doesn’t fix what you did.”
Lauren’s shoulders sagged. “I thought if I gave you a clean break, you could move on and be happy.”
“But we were torn apart by things that could’ve been talked through and fixed. If you’d let me in instead of shutting me out.” Sierra wiped her eyes angrily. “I would’ve chosen you, Lauren. Every time. But you didn’t trust me enough to let me.”
“You’re absolutely right. I was a coward.”
Sierra’s voice went quiet, dangerous. “I haven’t stopped loving you. But I can’t go backward. If you left once, you could do it again, and I couldn’t survive that twice. I barely survived it the first time.”
Lauren set down their barely touched coffee and moved toward the door. “Maybe this was a mistake. I should go. I’m just hurting you more—”
“Wait.” The word escaped before Sierra could stop it. Lauren froze with their hand on their coat.
Sierra closed her eyes, fighting with herself. “Don’t just leave again. Not like this.”
Lauren turned slowly. “What do you want from me, Sierra?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice broke. “I don’t know what I want. I’m terrified of you, but I also...”
“Also what?”
“I missed you. Every single day. And I hate that I missed you.”
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears. “I missed you, too. More than I thought was possible to miss another person.”
They stood there in the horrible space between wanting and not trusting, love and self-preservation.
“Maybe we could try starting over as friends?” Lauren’s voice was barely audible. “I want to prove to you that I can stay when things get hard.”
Sierra hesitated for a long moment, every self-protective instinct screaming warnings. “I don’t know if I can do this. Trust doesn’t just come back because you apologized.”
“I know. I wouldn’t expect anything from you. But maybe... maybe we could try? Just try?”
Sierra stared at them for what felt like forever. Finally, she gave one careful, reluctant nod. “Friends. That’s all. And if you disappear on me again—”
“I won’t. I swear to you, I won’t.”
Lauren’s smile was tentative, like they were afraid it might break something. “Well, as your friend, I have to point out that your cat still absolutely hates me.”
From his perch on the windowsill, Salem’s tail gave one particularly dramatic flick, as if he’d been listening to every word and found their entire conversation lacking.
Sierra let out a laugh that was more tears than humor. “He’ll come around eventually. Maybe.”
They ended up sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a careful distance between them. Two people who weren’t quite whole yet, weren’t entirely broken anymore either, trying to figure out if they could build something new from whatever pieces were left behind.