“I should have called,” he replied, setting his keys on the counter with too much care.
His mother studied him, the way only mothers could. “Sit. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
He’d sat across from her at the small kitchen table, sunlight streaming through the window, the faint smell of lavender from her garden drifting in. His hands had fidgeted with the edge of a napkin.
“Mom,” he started, then stopped. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She set her teacup down, giving him her full attention. “All right. I’m listening.”
Bennett took a breath. “I’m seeing someone.”
His mother’s expression softened. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart. What’s her name?”
The correction caught in his throat. “His name is Jasper.”
Silence. Not hostile. Not cold. Just... present.
His mother blinked once, processing. “His.”
“Yes,” Bennett said, forcing himself to hold her gaze.
His mother’s hands wrapped around her teacup, knuckles pale. She looked down at the table, then back up at him.
“How long?” she asked quietly.
“Three months,” Bennett replied. “It wasn’t planned. It just... happened.”
“And you’re sure?” His mother’s voice was careful, measured. “About him? About this?”
Bennett nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more certain about anything.”
His mother was quiet for a long moment. Bennett felt his chest tighten, waiting.
Finally, she spoke. “I won’t pretend this isn’t surprising. It is. But Bennett...” She reached across the table and took his hand. “Are you happy?”
The question landed softly, unexpectedly.
“Yes,” Bennett said, voice rough. “I am. Really happy.”
His mother squeezed his fingers. “Then that’s what matters. I just want you to be happy, Bennett. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Bennett’s throat tightened. “I know this isn’t what you expected.”
“No,” she admitted. “But you’re my son. That doesn’t change.” She paused, then added with a small smile, “When do I get to meet him?”
Bennett exhaled, something loosening in his chest. “Soon. If you want.”
“I do,” she said. “And Bennett? Thank you for telling me. I know that wasn’t easy.”
It hadn’t been. But sitting there, his mother’s hand still holding his, Bennett felt something shift. Not acceptance, maybe. Not yet. But the beginning of it.
He’d take it.
Bennett wasat his desk when Jasper texted.
Jasper:
Running late. The client went long. Please tell me you did not reorganize my entire kitchen.
