“Thank you for staying.”
Mom closed her eyes.
That was the answer she’d needed for years.
***
At prom, when the first slow song began, Noah held out his hand.
“Chrissy… You owe me.”
“Twelve years?”
“Yes.”
He stepped on my shoe within five seconds.
“You’re terrible at this.”
“Your dress is badly designed.”
“Chrissy… You owe me.”
We laughed until people stared.
