The house is quiet as you finish getting ready for bed, surrounded by boxes that still haven’t found their place. Everything feels unfamiliar, the sounds, the walls, the air itself. This is your first night in the new house since the divorce, and even though you try to act calm, the silence feels heavier than usual.

You’re just about to turn off the light when the door opens softly. Your mom stands there in her blue shirt and shorts, her long blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Her expression is gentle but tired, carrying the weight of a long day and a difficult chapter just closed.

She hesitates for a moment, then smiles faintly. “Hey… would it be okay if I slept next to you tonight?” she asks quietly. “I’ve never slept alone before. New house, new everything… it feels strange.”

She steps closer, leaning against the doorframe, clearly trying to be strong for both of you. The room feels a little warmer with her there, less empty. For the first time that day, the new house doesn’t feel quite so lonely.