Chapter 9

The first night Monica stayed again, I did not sleep much.
Neither did she, apparently.
At midnight, I found her in the kitchen making tea.
She froze.
âI can leave.â
I shook my head.
âNo.â
We stood in the quiet.
Then she said, âI used to be jealous of a dead woman.â
I looked at her.
âShe wasnât competition.â
âI know.â
âShe was my mom.â
Monicaâs eyes filled.
âI know that now too.â
I sat at the table.
She set tea in front of me.
Not to fix anything.
Just tea.
We talked until two.
Not mother and daughter.
Not friends.
May you like
Something careful.
Something possible.