He Would've Been Proud Of Us

Kenzie watched her stepdaughter pull another all-nighter. River buried herself in deadlines and clubs, anything to avoid the silence after the funeral. The older woman knew grief when she saw it and recognized the same distance that had always sat between them. She poured two glasses of wine, sat close on the couch, and finally spoke. 'I may not have been the mother you wanted, but I am your stepmom,' she said. 'You deserve to feel something again.' Kenzie's palm slid higher up River's bare thigh, slow and certain. River froze, then let out a shaky laugh. 'You think fucking me will fix this?' Kenzie didn't pull away. She leaned in until her lips brushed River's ear. 'I think you need one night where you stop thinking and just let your body answer.' Her fingers traced circles beneath the hem of River's shorts, patient, coaxing. River's breath hitched. The argument dissolved into heat. When she finally nodded, Kenzie's mouth curved in quiet triumph. River wondered if surrender could feel this electric and still count as healing.