She takes a deep breath and sniffles again. I hear a rustling on the line, and I can imagine her wiping at her eyes. “Well, in lighter news, guess who I ran into at the store earlier today?”

“Who?”

“Aaron! I was trying to get something down from one of the top shelves, and he snuck up behind me to offer his help. I don’t think he knew it was me at first, but he gave me a big hug when he realized it. He’s such a sweet man.”

My throat tightens. The mention of Aaron after the day I’ve had—the test, the unexpected and thoughtful gift from Declan, our brief but charged text exchange—feels jarring, like being dumped into cold water.

My mother isn’t wrong. Aaron can be sweet sometimes, when he wants to be, but she doesn’t know what the rest of him is like. I know where this conversation is going though, and I don’t like it.

“We started catching up, and he told me that the two of you have been talking again lately. I think that’s wonderful. You two always seemed so good together. Does this mean what I think it does?”

There it is, the million-dollar question I saw coming a mile away. Something tells me that Aaron running into her probably wasn’t as much of an accident as she thinks it was, although I don’t have any way to prove that. I don’t have the heart to disappoint my mom by telling her it isn’t happening, especially not on a day like today, but I don’t want to lie to her either, so I hesitate.

How do I explain that the mere thought of going back to Aaron makes me feel like I’m settling? That I’ve had a glimpse of something more electric, more alive—even if it’s complicated and maybe impossible?

“We’ve been talking, yeah. I don’t know what’s going to happen. We’ll see.” It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t quite the truth, either.

“Well, you could always try just to see if there’s still a spark. You never know until you try.”

“Like I said, we’ll see. I’m not trying to force anything.”

“Fair enough. For what it’s worth, he’s got my stamp of approval, but you already knew that.”

“I know. Thanks, Mom.” I feel a pang of guilt for wanting this conversation to end. On any other day, I might make an excuse and end the call, but today of all days, she needs to feel connected to the child she still has. But she must pick up on my exhaustion because she clears her throat.

“I should probably let you go. I need to finish dinner before your father gets home after the game. You know how hungry he gets when he’s been coaching.”