Mom: Dinner this weekend? I miss you. Don’t make me come drag you home.
I exhale slowly. That familiar pull hits. Normal life. Family. The version of me that existed before all of this. I type back without overthinking it.
I’ll come. I promise.
I hesitate. Then add,
Can I bring someone?
I stare at the screen for a second before hitting send. My heart picks up slightly.I don’t know why that feels like a bigger step than anything else I’ve done. But it does. I lower the phone slowly, then look up at him.
He’s already watching me.
“My mom wants me to come to dinner tomorrow,” I say.
He doesn’t react immediately. Just waits. Taking it in. “And?” he asks.
“And I’m going,” I say.
A pause.
Then, “I figured.”
“I told her I might bring someone.”
That gets a reaction. Small. Sharp. His eyes narrow slightly. “Yeah?”
I step closer. Not fast. Not hesitant.
Just… there.
Measured.
“I want you to come.” Silence stretches between us. Not tense. Not uncomfortable. Just real.
He doesn’t answer right away. And I don’t push.
I don’t explain. I don’t try to convince him. I just let it sit. Because this isn’t something I need to force. He’s either going to step into it. Or he’s not. His gaze holds mine. Long. Steady.
Then he nods once. “I’ll be there.”
Simple. Final. Like everything else he says. But it lands differently this time.This isn’t control. This isn’t protection. This is choice. And I feel it. Deep. Real.
I nod back, a small smile pulling at my lips. “Good.”
Neither of us says anything else. We don’t need to. Because something shifted. Not loudly. Not dramatically. But enough. Enough that I feel it settle into place.
I move past him, brushing his arm lightly as I go, not accidental this time. Intentional.
He stills.
I feel it.
But he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t step back. Doesn’t shut it down. He just lets it happen. And that’s new.
I sit on the bed, pulling my legs up underneath me, getting comfortable like I belong here. Like this is somewhere I can stay.
He watches me for a second longer. Then moves too. Not away. Not toward the door. Toward me. Not closing the space fully. But not keeping distance either.
