Reconnecting

Emily lies on her bed, thumbing through old photos on her phone. One stops her cold. She taps it—her and Mackenzie Moss, smiling like the world was theirs. A soft sigh slips out. The ache in it is old but sharp. A text pops up. Some friend wants her out at the club. "Not tonight," she mutters. "The only thing I want is..." Her voice fades. She pulls up Mackenzie’s number, thumb hovering. "No… I can’t," she whispers, yet the finger drops anyway. One breath, then she hits call. Mackenzie answers, voice wary. Emily blurts an apology, admits she misses her, asks her to come over. Silence stretches. Then Mackenzie says yes. Minutes later, the door opens. Mackenzie steps in tense, unsure if this was a mistake. Their greetings sound stiff; the space between them stays wide as they sit on the bed. Emily tells her the truth. She ditched her for the boys after they both turned eighteen because she was already falling in love. The words land heavy. Without warning, Mackenzie leans in and kisses her. Shock registers, then Emily answers with heat, hands sliding under Mackenzie’s shirt. Clothes drop. Their hands find skin, tight and smooth, urgent now. All the lost time funnels into the heat between their bodies—two tongues, two hearts, no more running.