JORDAN
I stare downat the text my pappoús sent me this morning.
Pappoús
Good morning my kouklaki. My apologies for not reaching out sooner. Sometimes I think it’s good to let the dust settle. Can I take you to lunch tomorrow? My treat.
My pulse stutters. It’s exactly what I’ve been wanting—my pappoús to reach out to me. I want to talk to him. Ineedto. But I haven’t wanted to reach out first. For one, I haven’t felt the need to apologize. I haven’t done anything wrong. And two, I haven’t wanted it to seem like I’m asking for permission… to fall into old habits.
What Matt and I did is a done deal. We’re married. And I’m happier, now that I’ve stepped into that role with confidence, than I ever have been.
Ever.
I type, stealing strength from the deepest parts of me.
Hi Pappoús. Thank you for reaching out. Lunch would be great. Just tell me when and where.
He responds almost immediately, like he’s been waiting for my text all day.
Pappoús
Meet me at our special spot. Noon. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I heart the message, then let out a sigh of relief.
I cross the room to the meditation corner I set up at Matt’s and light some incense before settling cross-legged on the pouf in front of it.
I grab the prayer rope my yiayiá gave me when I was little, flip my hands palms up, and rest them on my knees. Then I close my eyes and draw in a deep, slow breath.
It’s what I do when my thoughts get loud or I need peace that actually sinks in.
I don’t usually pray when I meditate. I breathe, hold my rope, inhale my incense, and quiet my mind.
But every once in a while, my thoughts drift into prayer mode, that place where you start negotiating with someone you’re not even sure is there.
I’m not someone who prays often. I only ever do it when I need something.
And right now, I need strength.
To stop feeling unworthy.
To stop asking for permission.
To walk into lunch tomorrow and not lose my conviction.
Matt’s voice cuts through my peace.
“Christ,” he says. “You always break out the incense when you’re stressed.”
My gaze drags toward him. “I’m meeting with my pappoús tomorrow. I could use a little help.”
His brows rise. “Really? That’s a big deal, babe. How you feeling about it?”
I nod toward my corner. “Well… I’m praying. Sort of, so…” I let out a short laugh. “Guess that’s how I’m feeling about it.”
He grins. “Fair. It’s gonna be fine, though. Youknow you’re his favorite.”
“Between me and Christopher?” I scoff. “God, I hope so.”
