“I don’t want that,” I replied. “I just want to know him.”
Theo’s stepfather, Mark, joined us. Calm. Protective.
“This can’t become a tug-of-war,” he said.
“It won’t,” I promised. “I just want to be part of his life. Slowly.”
They agreed on boundaries. A counselor. No surprises.
The following Saturday, I met them at Mel’s Diner.
Theo waved when he saw me. “Ms. Rose! You came!”
He scooted over, making space beside him.
We drew pictures on napkins. He told me about chocolate-chip pancakes. He leaned against my arm without hesitation.
For the first time in years, I didn’t feel empty.
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