The Quiet Evening A Mother Stopped Asking For A Seat At A Table That Never Had Any Room For Her 3

Months later, Oliver messaged privately. “I’m sorry I called you that. Can I see Daisy on Saturdays?” I wrote back, “Yes. Always.” Gregory said he had not seen it, which was true, and I no longer needed permission to answer.

That evening, I sat on our balcony while Daisy hummed. For the first time in six years, I was not proving I belonged. I did.

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