The Cuddle Clause

by Roxie Ray

“It’s not just that he dumped me… it’s that I don’t even know who I am without trying to be who he wanted.”

Just her, holding me together like it was the most normal thing in the world. But my mind wouldn’t shut up. Why her? Why now? And what happens when she realizes how intense this is for me? I didn’t have answers. Didn’t want to think about answers. All I wanted to think about was her, pressed to my chest, anchoring me. I fell asleep like that. It felt like home.

Roman arranged the ingredients across the counter: flour, sugar, chocolate chips, eggs, butter. Measuring spoons and cups lined up with military precision, like they were part of a ritual. The whole scene looked less like a baking project and more like a strategic war documentary—using kitchen tools instead of blueprints to coordinate maneuvers. Not a single grain of sugar was out of place. I let the warm fragrance of butter and vanilla wrap around me like a hug I desperately needed.

“I think you’re a menace.” “I think you’re deflecting.” Before I could come up with a suitable comeback, he reached into the bag of flour and flicked some at me. “Don’t—” I warned. He did it again. Which, obviously, meant war. I grabbed a handful of flour and lobbed it at his chest. It exploded like a powder bomb. Roman yelped and retaliated with a puff aimed at my face. I shrieked, flailing, and upended the mixing bowl as I grabbed the counter for balance. Some of the dough ended up smeared across his jaw. He tried to duck behind the fridge door, hit his head, cursed, and somehow flung sugar onto the counter like confetti. Flour in my eyelashes. Dough on his neck. We were both breathless from laughing by the time we collapsed on the floor, backs against the lower cabinets, our clothes dusted with white. My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Truce?” he panted. “I don’t trust you.” He held up a jar of peanut butter. “Let’s just eat this and pretend the cookies were a success.”

Maybe this could work even if it scared the shit out of me. Even if we didn’t know how to stop breaking each other’s hearts with our mouths.

I closed my eyes and let the sound of his heartbeat guide me under. I didn’t feel alone. I felt safe and wanted. As sleep finally took me, I let myself wonder if maybe I’d always belonged right here. Wrapped in warmth. Curled against chaos.

The air between us was full of unspoken things, but not the heavy kind. Not the anxious, foreboding kind. The good kind. The I-want-to-stay-in-this-moment-forever kind. But forever was a lie tonight, because my brain wouldn’t stop. Not even with her curled into my side like she belonged there. Not even with peace in my arms.