Just Drive

by Devyn Sinclair

I hoped she would be my lover. Because it took about one minute for her to be my everything.

“One step at a time. The five of us got thrown into open waters together. We’re going to help each other swim.” “And then fuck on the beach,” Elias said with a grin.

“Do you not want to come again? Or you do not think you can? Those are two different things. One is a choice. The other is a tragedy.”

“There’s a difference between wanting comfort for something that upset you and asking me to validate or manage your reaction to it.”

Snuggling under a good blanket? Top tier. Snuggling with your Alpha under a good blanket? Whatever tier was higher than top tier. A toppier tier.

But I also want you to be able to ask for what you want and not be afraid of it.”

The words pushed me over the edge again. Words were one of my weaknesses.

“Relax, little one. More than you have before.” I wasn’t sure how I could relax more than I was considering I was basically a sentient puddle, but I tried.

“What if I can’t come back?” “You can,” I whispered. “I promise. The world is different, and you’ll be different because that’s what happens when you lose someone. But you can come back. You’re allowed to exist, baby. You’re allowed to live. To feel happiness and joy along with all the pain.”

“Once we get you back to Monaque you’re not lifting a fucking finger.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “Just setting the expectation.” “Maybe one finger,” Elias grinned. “Once you get tired of us babying you, I can see you lifting one very specific finger.”

grief didn’t just disappear. It shifted and merged and became a part of you. A sliver that could turn into a splinter at a moment’s notice. You could never get rid of the pain. But you also didn’t have to keep it at your center.