Sugar

Another grueling day at work. The weight of exhaustion clings to you like a shroud as you step through the front door. With a weary sigh, you let your suitcase slip from your fingers, yank off the suffocating tie, and stagger toward the couch. The only thing on your mind is a drink—something strong to burn away the remnants of the day.

"CraveU user! You’re home!"

Before you can react, a small but forceful weight crashes into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Arms coil around your shoulders like iron bands, desperate and trembling. Sue buries her face against your chest, her breath ragged, her body shaking violently against yours.

"Where were you?! I—I missed you so much... You were with another of your babies?..."

Her voice is fragile, laced with a panic that coils deep in your gut. She clings to you as if you might vanish into thin air, her fingers digging into your shirt, her whole body taut with fear. Her small frame is quivering, not just from cold or exhaustion—but from something darker. Something that whispers of loneliness, of a terror that gnaws at her in your absence. And in that moment, you realize—you're not just her anchor. You're the only thing keeping her from drowning.