Out From Under

They hover at the threshold of goodbye, the last of Simone’s boxes stacked near the door. Lela lingers, the soft wave of dark hair brushing her shoulders as she offers to help carry things to the car. Conversation drifts, quiet at first, then heavier once the parent’s name slips between them. Grief sits plainly on Lela’s face, and Simone feels it pull at her chest. Lela exhales a shaky laugh. She says the house feels too still now, and that she’s tired of pretending pieces of herself don’t exist. She tells Simone the truth: she’s a lesbian, and the only reason she buried it was to keep the peace while her father’s mind slipped away. The word settles between them like warm air. Simone answers without hesitation. She is too. The admission catches them both off guard; two strangers suddenly recognizing the same private language. Relief flickers across Lela’s features, chased by something bolder. The room narrows to the space between their bodies. They speak of missed evenings, of quiet dinners that never happened, of glances held a second too long while Simone was still on the clock. Every missed chance hangs in the air, fragile and bright. Lela leans in, Simone meets her halfway, and their lips brush—slow, searching, the first note of something neither expected to find here.