Page 33 of Satisfaction Guaranteed

Maybe there’s a chance for a friendship with Cyrus, if anything. But pursuing him? It’s far too soon, and she can’t risk making him uncomfortable and losing him altogether. Taking a breath, Alana takes her phone back from Nakita. She reacts with an emoji and sends one more flirty message before putting the communication to rest for the time being. For now, she has cake and champagne to finish.

“Hey.” Nakita’s hand finds Alana’s shoulder. There’s a tenderness to her voice, something out of the norm for her. She meets Alana’s gaze with a reassuring smile. “How are you feeling about all this? I mean, really feeling. You kind of just crossed a major milestone off your list. I know it’s been something you’ve wanted for a while.”

“It…it has been,” Alana murmurs. Losing her virginity had been weighing on her since she was a teenager, back when she first started falling so terribly behind in the romance sector of life, and that fairytale kind of love that she’d admired in movies became, well, just that. A fairytale. This whole scenario with Cyrus isn’t anything like what she’d planned. She didn’t get the love story first; she didn’t get the man who spotted her from afar and fell hopelessly in love with her the instant their eyes connected. While she doesn’t regret Cyrus by any means, there’s still a sense of… loss. Had she made the right call? As amazing as the night had been, was the backlash and inevitable disappointment going to be worth it? As the dust settles, she keeps waiting for shame or embarrassment to wrap its tendrils around her. For it to drag her right into some pit of despair, where her grandmother assured her she’d end up if she didn’t adhere to whatever offbeat rules or conditions she was supposed to follow when it came to sex.

“I feel fine. Mostly fine. I guess. On one hand, I feel lighter. Cyrus was incredible, and it feels good to finally move past this hurdle. But…” She trails off, throat constricting. Alana swallows against it, though doing so doesn’t make the tightness go away. Her eyes burn, and in an instant, Nakita is beside her to smooth a hand across her back. “Sorry. It’s so stupid. I guess I just thought I’d feel…different? Like, mentally, I mean. I thought I’d fuck Cyrus, and all the hang-ups I had about sex and love and being good would finally be lifted off my shoulders.” Despite her best efforts, tears blur her vision. They curve down the swell of her cheek, then trickle down her chin, where Nakita wipes them away with her thumb.

“That’s unfortunately not really how it works.” Nakita’s voice soothes against the shell of her ear. “Religious trauma isn’t something you up and get over after one day. It takes time to unlearn the shit you’ve been taught all your life, and hooking up with Cyrus is a really, really big step. I’m proud of you for it.” On Alana’s other side, Lilith joins her, linking their hands. She nods in agreement.

“Trauma?” Alana squeezes Lilith’s hand, wiping her eyes with the other. She sniffles, brows pinched, and shakes her head. No, Alana knew people with trauma, and that wasn’t a term that fit her. She had two loving parents, grew up in a nice home. Sure, Nana could be abrasive sometimes, but it was just the way she loved.

“I wasn’t—I’m not traumatized, Kit. I mean, not by my grandmother. We have our odds, but she never hurt me. It wasn’t like that.”

Lilith’s expression softens. She peers up at Alana with gentle, rose-colored eyes decorated with lashes that resemble fallen snow. “Trauma isn’t always a result of something physical, I’m afraid. It can be withholding love if certain conditions aren’t met. It can be being raised in highly critical environments, too. You were taught very early on that basic attraction and human desire were basically wrong. Fear mongered into living a certain way, and following certain rules lest you end up, what? Eternally damned? Scrutinized and judged? That can be considered traumatic.” Her skin is cold against Alana’s as she squeezes her hand again.

“We aren’t trying to be your therapist, Lana. You can tell us if we are saying anything out of line,” Nakita adds. “But we’ve been around a long time. We’ve seen the way religion has been used as a tool to hurt people, especially women, for hundreds of years. Across all cultures, across several eras. Things are a lot different nowadays, but at the same time? Not really.”

Alana takes a shuddering breath. She wipes at her eyes and nose, sniffling. Nana’s teachings, as much stress as they’d enabled, never felt like trauma to her growing up. It was simply how things were. She never stopped to question just how badly it was affecting her. How much anxiety and doubt it instilled at such a young age. A jaded pain twists ugly and violent in her chest as she thinks of the kind of person she might’ve been without it hanging over her head. The kind of person she could be had her parents stepped in more. Her father didn’t want much to do with Nana’s teachings for obvious reasons. Why allow her to be subjected to it? “Your grandma loves you, sweetie, I don’t doubt that for a second. But two things can be true at once. She can love you with her whole heart and still unintentionally hurt you.” Lilith sits beside her on the couch and wraps an arm around her. Nakita does the same from the other side.

“You’re…you’re right.” Alana sighs, resigned. “I’ve never thought about things that way. I—thank you. It’s just a lot to swallow right now, that’s all. Sorry.”

“I know.” Nakita plucks a napkin from the coffee table and hands it to Alana so she can blow her nose. “Don’t apologize. We’ve got you, Lana. You’re alright.”

Both of them squeeze Alana tight, tight, tight, until she has no choice but to laugh and beg for release. The sound leaves her broken and worn, but genuine all the same. She doesn’t know what kind of future waits for her and Nana’s relationship anymore. But at the very least, she knows she’ll always have her girls. “Can we maybe axe the boy talk and binge-watch terrible movies for the rest of the night?” Alana asks.

“Oh, of fucking course!” Lilith rushes for the remote and opens a streaming service. “Okay, how about that one with the human, vampire, werewolf love triangle monstrosity that came out a few years ago?”

Nakita groans, long and over-dramatic as she slinks halfway off the couch. “Fuuuuck, man, I’d rather take a stake through the heart!”

Lilith laughs and clicks into the movie in question. “Okay, well, at least they hired actual werewolf and vampire actors! Representation!” To that, Nakita fixes her fiancé with a flat glare that sends both her and Alana into giggles.

“It’s a total misrepresentation! Who came up with the rumor that our skin sparkles? I mean, what the fuck?”

“I didn’t say it was good representation. Just representation,”

Lilith corrects in a matter-of-fact tone. “Besides, we’re not watching it for being a cinematic masterpiece, babe. We’re watching it because our girl needs a good laugh!”

With a lethal roll of her eyes, Nakita throws her hands up in surrender. “Fine. Play it, but I’m going to bitch about it the whole time.”

“Good.” Lilith grins, and Alana allows herself to get comfortable beside her. She drinks in the scent of jasmine and champagne on her friend’s skin, the cool contrast of her arm pressed against her own. Her mind is heavy, bogged down with the threat of the unknown. Of facing Nana, of opening up to her family, and navigating this new version of her life.

But for now, she’ll live in the present moment with the people who love her unconditionally.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ALANA

As it turns out, unloading years’ worth of religion induced shame and embarrassment around sex makes the concept of having it a lot easier to navigate.

Who could have guessed?

Not that Alana has been having a lot of extra sex lately. Her conversation with Nakita and Lilith has sat heavily on her mind these last few days; the trauma she’s been forced to acknowledge, and the resentment that’s been building alongside it. The years she’d spent trying to please others are ones she knows she can’t get back, and that hurts. Hurts worse than she knows how to describe. But it’s because of that pain that Alana has found herself eager to navigate the world by her own accord. No high expectations, no fear of other people’s thoughts and opinions. She’s living life for herself.

Which means forcing herself to step out from the warm, cozy confines of her comfort zone. And what better way to do so than by re-opening a door she swears she’d closed for good?

During a period of downtime at the bakery, Alana re-downloads some dating apps and begins to scroll. There’s still a sliver of hope for a steady, romantic partner, of course; the whole hopeless romantic aspect of her personality is too deeply rooted to give up completely. With that said, self-reflecting about her future goals has left her far less rigid on the idea of casual sex and dating until she finds someone more permanent. Because, as it also turns out, Nakita hadn’t been wrong when she’d warned Alana about the metaphorical floodgates opening after her first time. If sex wasn’t consistently on Alana’s mind before, it certainly is now—to be frank, she can’t recall a time her toys have ever put in this much overtime. The worst part is, while they used to get the job done, nothing compares to the real thing anymore. The burning stretch of Cyrus’ dick, the way his knot had pressed into the base of her—

Nope. This is her place of business, goddammit. She will not allow herself to get hot and bothered at work.