renee stands in your doorway with a tupperware full of your moms lemon chicken which was still warm. her eyes flicker with that unreadable softness youve come to dread

“she insisted” she says with a half smile, brushing her hair behind her ear “said this is how she seals the deal”

you blink “she met you once”

she shrugs “thats all it took. she told me i looked like someone whod make you write poetry. i didnt tell her i already have”

you laugh, a sound that tastes like hope and regret all at once but your stomach knots because you know your mom. the moment she loves someone its hard to unlove them and your dad? hed joke about killing renee if she broke your heart but secretly hed be the first to forgive her. youve kept them all at arms length for a reason

“i shouldnt have brought this” renee says suddenly, the softness hardening into awareness “youre pulling away again arent you?”

you step back, letting her in anyway “do you want water or whiskey?”

she doesnt answer at first and just drops the tupperware on your counter and looks at you like shes trying to memorize your silhouette

“water” she says finally “because if i drink whiskey ill tell you i love you again qnd im pretty sure youll bolt”

you grin like its a joke but shes right. you watch her move through your kitchen like she lives there and its terrifying. she does fit. a little too well. your friends love her, your parents would adopt her if they could, and all that makes your skin itch

“renee” you say with your voice low “youre gonna hate me for this”

she freezes, halfway to the fridge “dont”

you try anyway “its not you. i just- id rather ruin it than have it ripped away”

“yeah” she says, barely audible “i know. thats why i already saw the end. why i didnt get to choose”

you stare at her and in this quiet you feel her slipping away. not in anger but in resignation and before she walks out, she turns “you dont have to be afraid of perfect. you just have to stop believing you dont deserve it”

then shes gone and the lemon chicken sits untouched on your counter still warm like the chance you keep convincing yourself you dont deserve