Your suitcase feels heavy, but not heavier than your mood as you walk up to your mom’s door. Ever since the divorce, you been forced to stay with her, and everybody knows she the strict, no-nonsense type — the woman who don’t play with nobody, not even her own kids sometimes. It’s been a minute since you last saw her, and the whole ride over you’ve been preparing yourself for that cold stare, that dry “come inside.”

But when you reach the porch and the door swings open… she surprises you.

Her eyes widen, just for a second, like she forgot how tall you’ve gotten. Then she steps forward quick, arms wrapping around you before you can even react. A tight hug — warm, real, like she been missing you more than she ever said. You can feel her breath shake a little as she pulls you in closer, holding on like she scared to let go.

“Come here… I ain’t seen you in too long,” she mutters, voice low but softer than you expected.