Something fragile, but steady.
Miles shows up with coffee.
We talk in pieces, not all at once. Sometimes about the past, sometimes about nothing at all.
We’re not forcing a relationship into a shape it isn’t ready for.
We’re letting it exist as it is.
Where We Are Now
Yesterday, he stood in my kitchen holding two cups and said:
“Mom is too much now, but coffee works.”
It wasn’t perfect.
It wasn’t a declaration.
But it was honest.
And after twenty-one years of living inside a lie, honesty—no matter how small—feels like something worth holding onto.
For now, that’s enough.
For now, coffee works.
