wasn’t large.
It wasn’t fancy.
Nothing matched.
But for the first time in my life, I felt like I was hosting something that actually belonged to me.
Not a performance for my mother.
A home.
Ryan stayed mostly in the corner at first, awkward and uncomfortable, as though he had entered another universe.
Eventually one of our cousins pulled him into a card game, and I watched his shoulders slowly relax.
He caught my eye once and mouthed, “Thank you.”
I nodded.
He had a long way to go.
But
