“Derek, you didn’t have to—” I started.
“I wanted to.” He met my eyes, and there was something warm and sure in his gaze. “It was a great meal. Great company. Let me do this.”
My mom gave me a strange look, smiling softly before shifting her attention to Derek. “That’s very generous of you, Derek,” she said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Sharon.”
???
Later, after Derek and Hana had said their goodbyes and Avery had gone to pull the Jeep around, my mom and I stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the smell of roasted duck from a nearby shop.
“Derek’s lovely,” she said, glancing around casually.
“Yeah, Hana’s great too.”
“Mm.” She adjusted her scarf. “He’s very attentive. Very… considerate.”
“He’s a good guy. Avery really looks up to him.”
“I’m sure Avery does.” She paused. “But I wasn’t talking about Avery.”
My heart stuttered. “Mom—”
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to share, little bao.” She finally turned to look at me and her eyes were soft. Warm. “I just want you to know that I see you. And whoever makes you happy—whoever helps you heal—I’m grateful for them.”
I couldn’t speak. My throat was too tight.
She reached up and cupped my face in her hands, the way she used to when I was small.
“You deserve good things, Théo,” she said. “Don’t forget that.”
Then Avery pulled up in his ridiculous Jeep, honking the horn, and the moment passed.
But I carried her words with me for the rest of the day, turning them over in my mind like a stone worn smooth by water.
You deserve good things.
Maybe I was starting to believe it.
A few nights later, Hana made good on her promise. She dragged us to a Frost game. Bradley’s box was ridiculously luxurious and private so it wasn’t much of a burden.
My mom wore a number 27 jersey—Beaubien across her shoulders—and she looked absurdly pleased about it. I wore one of Derek’s hoodies, soft and oversized. I may have discreetly sniffed the sleeves during tense moments. It was calming.
The Frost won. A clean, satisfying win—Avery scoring once, Kenzo with an assist, the whole building vibrating with that communal kind of joy that had nothing to do with me and still tugged at something in my chest. Late in the third, after Derek buried one in close, he coasted past the faceoff circle and tipped his head up toward the box.
For half a second, his eyes found mine.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t point. Didn’t make it obvious.
But the look on his face said it anyway:This one’s for you.
My mom squeezed my arm so hard it almost hurt, cheering like she’d been a Frost fan her whole life. Hana was on her feet, screaming and hugging a giddy Bradley.
It was… good. Better than I expected.
Better than I thought I was allowed to have.
38. Théo
