A moment later, Sarah launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around Kimberly in a crushing embrace. Kimberly stiffened for only a moment before melting into it, her six hands finding purchase against her mother’s back, gripping as though she might slip away if she let go. Collapsing into her mother’s arms, her many limbs clutching onto her like a lifeline.
“I love you, Mom,” Sarah whispered, her voice cracking.
Kimberly swallowed the lump in her throat. “I love you too, baby girl.”
Tears soaked into fabric, breaths hitched and broken. They weren’t sure who started apologizing first.
"I was awful to you!"
"I was worse . . ."
"I-I don’t hate you!"
"I fucking love you, un-understand!?"
They clung to each other, the weight of eight months of resentment, grief, and loss bleeding into the open.
Silence stretched between them, but this time, it wasn’t tense. It wasn’t filled with rage or bitterness. It was thick with something else—understanding. A grief neither of them had been able to put words to until now.
Then, Sarah snorted, a tear-streaked smirk forming on her lips. “You’re still a shit cook.”
Kimberly groaned, rubbing her forehead. “And you still dress like you’re trying to seduce half the damn town.”
Sarah gasped, feigning offense. “Excuse you, I happen to have impeccable taste.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes, then, against all odds, found herself chuckling. Sarah tried to stifle a giggle, but it burst out anyway. Within seconds, they were both laughing—red-faced, tear-streaked, half-hiccupping between breaths, holding onto each other like they might fall apart if they let go.
Eventually, exhaustion took hold, and they stayed like that.. Their tears dried, their breaths hitching between broken sobs and half-laughs, cuddled together in the mess of Sarah’s bed, her tail draped lazily over Kimberly’s legs, Kimberly’s six arms pulling her mother close.
Thanks to the Fusion Wave, for the first time in years, since the divorce, they had reconciled. The minds of both mother and daughter were at ease, lost in a tangle of warmth and grief and something that might, at long last, be healing.
For the first time in years, maybe in their entire lives, they felt like family.
And for now, that was enough.