“Finding Nemo.” He smiles. “Can we watch that one?”
I smile back, happy to do whatever. “Sure, let’s tidy up here first.”
We wash the dishes, and afterward, we move to the living room, where I try to figure out how the television works. Nan and I had an old one with Blu-rays, but this one is a smart television with a streaming service. Lio is a pro and quickly grabs the remote from me when he notices I’m lost, setting up the movie for us.
I glance at my phone to check the time, and a text from Hunter just popped up.
Hunter
On our way back, everything all right?
Maybe I should have texted to let them know Lio’s fine.
Oh well.
Lio is still telling me about how coolFinding Nemois and how the turtles are his favorite, so I text back quickly.
We’re at your place, had some grilled cheese sandwiches and are now watching Nemo. Hope that’s fine.
I want to put my phone away, but his next text comes fast.
Happy you guys are having fun, can’t wait to see you soon.
The flutter in my chest I get from reading that text is something I don’t want to think about, so I just put the phone down on the couch and get up to grab some blankets from where they’re stacked next to the couch.
Settling back down, I pull a soft blanket over us. The quiet rhythm of Lio’s breathing as he snuggles closer brings a serene end to the whirlwind of the evening. Maybe ten minutes into the movie, Lio yawns, exhaustion finally catching up to him. He’s out like a light within minutes with a contented smile on his face.
As the movie plays on, the warmth of the room and the soft glow of the television screen create a peaceful atmosphere, and it feels like…
… home.
Fuck.
Turmoil starts brewing inside me. My gaze drifts from the colorful underwater world to Lio’s peaceful face, and I’m struck with a bitter realization.
This moment, as perfect as it feels, isn’t mine to keep.
The life I’ve yearned for, the home I’ve dreamed of—it’s all right here, but it’s not for me.
The flickering light from the screen illuminates our little makeshift cocoon, casting long shadows on the living room walls that seem to hold so much of what I thought I wanted.
I shouldn’t be here.
I missed Lio so much that I thought spending an evening with him in my van would be okay, but look where it brought me.
Right back to the home they kicked me out of.
It’s a painful acknowledgment and one that tightens its grip around my heart with every passing second.
This can’t happen again.
This has to be the end of it.
With a heavy heart, I make a silent promise to myself and the sleeping child beside me. Tomorrow, I’ll start letting go of the kid who has slithered his way into my heart.
For both our sakes.
It’s not fair of me to let Lio think I’ll be there for him when I can’t be.
