Caleb rushed over to kiss Gretchen good-bye. He hugged her so tightly her ribs hurt, but she wouldn’t let go until he did.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mama.”

“I’ll be back later.” Jax spoke to them in passing and led Caleb to the door. “If you need anything, text me. If you can’t pick Caleb up, I’ll ask Wyatt or Meredith.” Her last word was barely out before the front door closed.

After a beat of silence, Amanda tentatively asked, “How were your first night and morning?”

Gretchen thrust the coffee into Amanda’s hands. “Make a pot of this, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Gretchen recounted how foreign she felt in her own bed. She detailed her awkward morning with Jax and how everything was just so weird.

“I hate feeling like a stranger in my life, to my son, and especially to my wife. Last night Caleb was telling me about school, and then he asked me where I put the Christmas tree he made me. Amanda, I had no idea what he was talking about. He was in a panic, thinking it’d be lost forever.”

“Poor thing.”

She sipped her coffee, the flavor and warmth comforting her deeply. “He’s being so good, though. He wants to understand, but he’s only four and a half.” She ran her thumb along the inside of the mug’s handle, deep in thought and getting lost in its smoothness. “The worst part wasn’t even his panic. It was Jax not knowing where to find it, either.”

“She’s been out of the house for a while.”

Gretchen looked out the window and noticed how gray the day was. “I think I’ll skip my run.”

“I don’t think you should be running at all.” Amanda’s concern was still sweet, but still annoying.

“Dr. Melendez said I could.”

“You need to take it easy.”

“What I need is to remember what the hell happened over the past four years.”

“You’ll get your memories back.”

“Will I?” Her tone lacked the hopefulness she should’ve felt. “At least if I remembered something, I could figure out how to fix my life.”

“You can still fix it.”

She eyed Amanda. “Where did all this positivity come from?”

Amanda laughed and went back to drinking her coffee, much lighter and sweeter than Gretchen’s.

“I’m serious, Amanda. You’re so different now.”

Amanda leaned back in her chair, took a deep breath, and smiled at Gretchen. She looked peaceful. “After Mom died, I felt lost, like I didn’t know who I was. I had no one to talk to or turn to. And before you say it, no, I couldn’t come to you.”

Gretchen lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. You were dealing with your own mixed feelings. I got help, though, and I think I figured out who I am. I’m in a good place.”

She gripped Amanda’s hand on the tabletop. “I’m so happy for you, and I hope I get to be a big part of your life from here on out.”