The moment the door clicked shut behind Aaron's mother, I let out a slow breath, trying to steady the nervous flutter in my chest.
Her questions had been pointed, but not unkind. Somehow, I felt a little lighter having spoken to her—like a small thread of acceptance had already been woven between us.
I lay back on the bed, stretching my arms above my head as the quiet hum of Chicago drifted through the windows.
The city felt alive beneath us, buzzing with possibility. For the first time in a long while, I could imagine a life that wasn't weighed down by guilt or obsession.
A gentle knock at the door startled me.
"Alyssa?" Aaron's voice called softly.
"Come in."
He stepped inside, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for disappearing earlier. I had to take care of a few things."
"It's okay," I said with a small smile. "I survived meeting your mother."
Aaron chuckled softly. "That's impressive. Most people don't."
