One evening, our living room was decorated with balloons that Evan claimed were “too much.” Awards and certificates were spread neatly on the table because he liked everything in order.
That day, he’d been accepted into a prestigious scholarship program for students with disabilities.
I ordered pizza. He pretended not to care. We laughed anyway.
Then the doorbell rang.
Ten Years Later, She Appeared
I opened the door without thinking.
And my stomach dropped.
Lila stood there like she’d stepped out of a magazine. Designer coat. Perfect hair. Confident posture. The kind of confidence that comes from not carrying guilt the way other people do.
Her eyes swept past me into my apartment like she owned the place.
“Hi,” she said casually. “I’m here for Evan.”
I couldn’t speak for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“I’m taking him back,” she said. “I’m married now. We’re stable. I’m ready.”
Behind me, Evan went completely still.
I swallowed hard. “You left. Ten years. No calls. No cards. Nothing.”
Lila shrugged. “That doesn’t change biology.”
Evan stepped forward on his crutch, eyes steady, voice calm.
