"You invited him so you could interrogate him."
"I invited him because he's dating my daughter and I want to spend time with him. It’s the holidays."
Riley rolled the dough harder than necessary. "It's new, Mom. We're taking it slow."
"That's what you keep saying."
"Because it's true."
"Mm-hmm." Her mom glanced at her. "You seem happy."
Riley paused mid-roll. "Do I?"
"You are. Lighter. Like you're not carrying the weight of the world anymore."
Riley's chest tightened. "I didn't realize I was."
"You've been running on fumes for months, sweetheart. This job—" Carol shook her head. "It's not good for you."
"It's a good job."
"Is it? Because you look exhausted every time you come home. And you barely talk about it."
"There's not much to talk about."
"Exactly." Her mom dusted flour off her hands. "But when you talk about Grant? You light up."
Riley's throat went tight. "Mom."
"I'm not pushing. I'm just observing."
"Well, observe quieter."
Carol laughed and pulled Riley into a hug, leaving flour prints on her sweater. "I'm happy for you. That's all."
Riley hugged her back, guilt settling heavy in her stomach.
Her mom was happy because she thought this was real. Thought Riley had finally found something good. Thought Grant was the answer to problems Riley hadn't even admitted she had.
And the worst part?
Riley was starting to think maybe she was right.
That night, Riley lay in bed scrolling through her phone. The group chat was quiet for once, but her Instagram was full of tagged photos from the reunion.
Riley and Grant laughing. Riley and Grant dancing. Riley and Grant standing so close they might as well have been one person.
They looked happy.
They looked real.
Riley zoomed in on one photo—Grant's arm around her waist, her head on his shoulder, both of them smiling at something off-camera.
She didn't remember what they'd been laughing at. But she remembered how it felt. Safe. Easy. Right.
Her phone buzzed.
Grant: You awake?
