Cooper was staying with me that week, and Diane wasn’t supposed to pick him up until Saturday morning. I had just finished making dinner when the doorbell rang around 6:45 PM.
I assumed it was a delivery driver.
Instead, I opened the door and froze.
Diane stood on the porch holding an overnight bag.
She looked exhausted.
Not regular tired — something deeper. Her makeup was faded, dark circles rested beneath her eyes, and her expression carried the kind of emotional weight you notice immediately when you once loved someone deeply.
“Hey,” she said quietly. “I know it’s not my night. I was already out this way after a work meeting in Raleigh, and I thought maybe I could see Cooper before heading back.”
Something about her voice felt off.
Still, I stepped aside.
“Of course. Come in.”
The second Cooper heard her voice, he sprinted into the hallway.
“Mom!”
He practically launched himself at her.
Diane caught him instantly, laughing as she wrapped her arms around him. For a brief moment, the sound of her laughter echoed through the house exactly the way it used to years ago.
