They sat like that for a while, hands interlaced, watching the steam rise from the Waffle House’s chimney. A trucker ambled inside, bell jingling. A stray cat crossed the parking lot, tail high.
“Liar,” Elara murmured, but she reached across the center console and took Mina’s hand. Her fingers were warm. “Thank you. For taking me. For leaving when I needed to leave.”
Elara blinked, then smiled—that crooked, sleepy smile that always made Mina’s chest ache. “You drove the whole way. You must be dead.” Loving ladies 2024 01 16 -- 00-33-1226-04 Min
But for Mina, it felt like a beginning.
End.
Her head was tilted against the window, a thin drool trail connecting her lower lip to the collar of her oversized flannel. They had driven eight hours straight from a music festival in Tennessee, fleeing bad weather and a bad conversation with an ex who’d shown up uninvited. Mina had insisted on driving the whole way. “You rest,” she’d said. “I’ve got you.”
“Why? What’s special about the 16th?” They sat like that for a while, hands
Mina started the engine. Heat poured through the vents. Elara leaned her head on Mina’s shoulder as Mina guided them back onto the highway.