Turn 23 of 228

Tell her about the OnlyFans account and ask er if she's attracted to what she sees. She replies honestly that she isn't. But she sincerely replies that she wanted to make sure everything was all right with me. Now that she confirmed everything's fine, she's content. She supports me. If anyone causes problems for me at work, she will deal with them.

Lena shifts in the booth, the wood creaking under her, and looks at Diane across the table. The question forms in her mouth before she's decided to ask it — blunt and bare, like everything else about her now.

"There's something else," she says. "I started an OnlyFans account. I've been posting photos of myself. The changes. The walking around. All of it. Eighty people are subscribed. They pay to see me." She watches Diane's face.

"I want to know if you're attracted to what you're looking at right now."

Diane's expression doesn't change. She holds Lena's gaze for a long moment, and then she shakes her head once — slowly, deliberately — the way someone does when they're being careful to be honest.

"No," Diane says. "I'm not. Not in that way. I want to be honest with you because you're being honest with me. I'm not attracted to this." She gestures — a small movement of her hand, taking in Lena's body, the crumbs, the stubble, the smell that fills the booth — and her hand returns to the table.

"But that's not why I'm here, Lena. I'm here because I've been worried about you. Genuinely worried. I watched you change and I didn't know if you were okay. I didn't know if something was wrong and nobody was doing anything about it. That's been keeping me up — not the clothes, not the smell, not any of that. The not knowing."

She pauses. Her voice is steady and quiet and her eyes are clear.

"And now I know. You're okay. You're better than okay — you're clear about what you want for the first time since I've known you. That's all I needed. I'm content with that."

Lena sits with the words. She feels them settle — not with the hot rush of the OnlyFans comments, not with the electric jolt of being seen on the street, but something quieter. Diane isn't looking at her body with hunger. She's looking at Lena with something that doesn't have a name in the vocabulary Lena has been using, and it lands differently than anything else has landed in the last two weeks.

"I support you," Diane says. "And if anyone at work gives you trouble — security, HR, anyone — I will deal with it. You have my word on that. Your work is exceptional and you deserve to be where you are."

She picks up her coffee, takes a sip, and sets it down. The tension in her shoulders has released. She looks at Lena like she's seeing a person, not a problem, and the difference is visible in every line of her face.

"Thank you for telling me the truth," Diane says. "All of it."

Lena nods. Her belly presses against the table edge. She feels the crumbs on her skin and the stubble on her legs and the warmth of the booth and the weight of Diane's words, and none of it needs to be anything other than what it is. Two women sitting across from each other in a quiet coffee shop — one naked and one not — and something has been answered that neither of them can quite articulate, and the answer is enough.