I'm Always Here For You, Sweetie

Kayla let her stepdaughter through the door and watched Chloe drag her bag inside, moving like dead weight. The week ahead tasted promising, ripe with plans. Kayla smelled the tension right away—Chloe’s mouth stayed tight, eyes never lifting. She asked what happened. Chloe just dropped onto the bed and turned away. Silence pressed between them. Later, plate in hand, Kayla tried cookies still warm. Chloe stared past the chocolate chips. “She left me,” she said, voice flat. Cookies weren’t going to patch that. The next afternoon Kayla dangled the car keys, a mall run to blast the blues away. Chloe curled tighter on the couch and muttered she didn’t want to move. Day after, Kayla shut the bedroom door behind her and crouched beside the mattress. Chloe finally cracked: she felt invisible, unfuckable. Kayla’s breath caught, then steadied. Words alone were useless. She cupped Chloe’s chin, pressed their mouths together hard, and let Chloe’s tongue slide across her nipple, sucking slow and greedy. Kayla pushed Chloe’s thighs apart and lowered her head, licking deep, slow circles that promised: desire wasn’t gone, just waiting for hands that still wanted it.