Talking feels like too much.
• • •
My parents go all out.
They always do.
The movie room already set — giant blanket across the couch, popcorn, candy, soda. Everything exactly the same as it’s always been.
Something animated starts playing.
And for a little while —
I can breathe again.
My mom leans into me. My dad tosses popcorn into his mouth the way he always does, missing half of it, acting like he didn’t.
“Mom?” I ask quietly as the credits roll.
“Anything, baby.”
I hesitate.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
The TV clicks off immediately.
Both of them turn.
“Why would you say that, Ro?” My mom’s already reaching for me. “You’re perfect.”
I shrug, staring at my hands.
“I went to Cassian’s house today.”
That’s all it takes.
I tell them what happened. His dad. The door. The way Cassian looked at me like I’d shown up somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.
My mom exhales softly, her hand moving over my hair.
“Don’t you dare feel bad about that man,” she says. “He’s difficult. He’s never liked anyone. Not even us.”
My dad nods.
“We have each other,” my mom continues. “You, me, your dad. His family is smaller now. And that can be hard for one person to carry. Try to imagine how difficult that is.”
I swallow.
“So it’s not me?”
Her expression softens.
“It is absolutely not you.”
She presses a kiss to the top of my head.
And the weight lifts.
