Mr Landon picked me up from my appointment with Patrice, and thankfully he could see I needed some time to decompress, and he gave it. He never said a word the entire drive home, but as we walked into the kitchen, he offered me a bottle of water and some advice. “Some sessions aren’t easy. In fact, some are rough as hell. It feels like for each step forward you take two back. And that’s all you can do, Yanni, just keep inching forward. Do you want to talk about it?”

I swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. “I’d rather not, but thank you anyway. Patrice wanted me to talk about my father… And it drains me.”

Mr Landon squeezed my shoulder gently. “Go lie down, rest for the afternoon. Read a book, watch a movie, have a nap. I’ll come find you when it’s time for dinner.”

I gave him the best smile I could manage and went to my room. I flopped down on the bed, feeling the very literal weight of emotional dissonance on my chest. I wasn’t sure why wounds had to be reopened in order to heal. I trusted Patrice, I trusted her methods, but making me name how I felt when my father disowned me hurt like tiny razor cuts all over my heart. The words she made me list still clung to my skin.

Failure. Shame. Regret. Pain.

She wrote each one down, and I knew we would be covering them in further sessions. It made me realize how far I had yet to go. If we would spend each session breaking down one word and the meaning behind it, the dam of emotions behind it, then I really did have years to go.

She seemed focused on what happened with my parents rather than what happened with him. We hadn’t even begun to discuss what had happened with him yet.

I wanted to be better, and I wanted to be better now. I knew Patrice had her reasons, and she told me the path I was on would be a long one. I guess I had to break down before I could rebuild, and that did nothing to ease the ache in my chest.

I closed my eyes and dozed off to images of myself being picked apart at the seams.

* * *

The buzz in my pocket woke me. I startled but was quick to realize it was still light outside, the room wasn’t dark, and my heart rate slowed until I could swallow. I took out my phone and smiled

It was Peter. You said I could text. Hope you don’t mind?

I thumbed out a reply. Don’t mind at all. It’s a nice surprise.

I really enjoyed last Saturday. They’re showing The Kid. Looking forward to it.

I was still smiling at my phone. Me too. I considered adding that maybe I could stick around a little longer this time, for coffee and conversation, but thought I best check that it was okay with the Landons first. I hit Send and rolled off the bed and padded down the hall. The kitchen was empty, so I wandered to the front room only to find an upset Mrs Landon whispering something to Mr Landon.

I froze. My heart skidded to a stop, and it almost took a conscious thought to make it beat again. I tried to move backward, but my feet wouldn’t budge. I was struck with fear and dread, and my insides curled like ice.

Mrs Landon looked up. “Oh, Yanni.” Her frown deepened. “Please, come in and take a seat.”

My mind raced with possibilities. Had Lance done something? Had he found me? Did he blame Spencer? Did he retaliate? Oh God, was someone hurt?

Resigned to hearing whatever bad news she had to say, I walked numbly to the sofa. I sat down like it was my execution chair, timid, yet reconciled with the fact my fate would always find me. He would always find me.

Mrs Landon tried to smile. She delicately shook her head and straightened her back. “I don’t know why I’m upset. This should be good news.”

I squeezed my fingertips and let out a breath. “What is it?”

“That position in the house we wanted for you has become available. The one near the school and the cafés? It’s perfect for you, really…” She sniffed.

I blinked. It didn’t make sense. Her reaction didn’t make sense. “Pardon?”

“The house I wanted for you? Notice has been given on a room…” Her words trailed away and she tilted her head. “Yanni, are you okay?”

I almost laughed. “I thought he must have found me.”

Horror washed over her face, and Mr Landon closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “No, no no no,” Mrs Landon breathed the words. “Oh honey, no.”

“You were upset…? I assumed the worst.” I shrugged one shoulder, not sure what else to say.

Mrs Landon wiped her cheek and regrouped. When she spoke again, it was with poise and softness, and there was a dignified humor in her eyes. “I’m only upset because I’ll miss you. You can ask Andrew and Sarah. When they both moved out, I cried for a week.”

“It’s true,” Mr Landon added. “She did.”

Mrs Landon raised her chin. “And for selfish reasons, I don’t want you to go. You’re a breath of fresh air, Yanni, and I have loved having you here.”

“Oh.” Relief and happiness soared in my chest, leaving a trail of tears in my eyes. “And I am so very grateful. I always knew I couldn’t stay here forever. As much as I wanted to. I even talked about it with Patrice just this week. I knew it would come to an end.”

“Nothing has to end,” Mr Landon said. “It just changes. We’ll still be a part of your life. You still have to buy me pizza once a week.” He shot his wife a look. “Heart-healthy pizza, of course.”

I smiled despite the ache in my chest. “When? I mean, how long do I have?”

Mrs Landon frowned. “Three weeks.”

Relief surged through me, dousing the panic in my belly. “Oh, that’s okay then,” I said with a bit of a laugh. “I thought you were going to say tomorrow.”

Mrs Landon’s face was a picture. “Oh, my Lord, no! We’d never do that. The girl that was in the room gave twenty-one days’ notice, as per her lease. I brought home a copy of the standard lease for you to have a look at, to make sure you’re happy with it before you sign. I’m sorry if I scared you earlier.” She frowned again, her eyes misting over. “I don’t want you to think we’re kicking you out because we’re not. And I know that you need this, you need to do this on your own, but I’m going to miss having you here.”

Mr Landon studied me for a moment. “Are you comfortable with the three weeks?”

Was I? Was three weeks enough time? Granted, it was better than a day or no notice at all. But I’d been with them now for four weeks, and I’d come so far. How far could I go in another three weeks? I still had issues, and who knew, maybe I always would. But the truth was, I did want to stand on my own two feet. As much as I’d love to stay with the Landons, what I wanted most in the world was to take back everything he’d taken from me.

Slowly I started to nod. “I think I am.”

Mrs Landon started to cry and laugh at the same time, and she leaped off the sofa to come and give me a hug while I was still sitting down, which was kind of awkward and amazing at the same time. “I’m so proud of you.”

Mr Landon looked on fondly. “We both are. You’re a good kid, Yanni. And you deserve the good things that will come your way.”

I was on the verge of tears, happy tears, my face burned with emotions, and my throat was tight. “Thank you, both, for everything. I owe you so much.”

Mrs Landon fixed my hair, the way a mother does her child. “The only thing we want from you is for you to be happy.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I laughed as I wiped it away. “Do Andrew and Sarah know how lucky they are to have parents like you?”

Mr Landon snorted and grinned right at me. “Probably. But we tell them all the time just in case they forget.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, that reminds me,” Mrs Landon said. “Sarah will be here for dinner on Friday night. She’s bringing Amani and Saanvi. Just so you know”—she looked right at me—“it will be a loud night. Those girls are so much fun.”

“Duly noted, thank you.”

“It’ll be good practice for you.” Mr Landon winked. “Having a loud and busy house. I remember college housing―”

“Yes, well,” Mrs Landon cut him off. “I’m sure Yanni doesn’t need to hear stories from your college days.”

I chuckled. “Uh, that reminds me as well. I was texting with Peter earlier. I didn’t want to mention it to him before I run it past you, but maybe I could stay a little later after the film?”

Mrs Landon smiled warmly. “Of course you can.”

“It wouldn’t be too much later,” I explained quickly. “It would be before it got dark.”

Mr Landon stood, crossed his arms, and pursed his lips. “I’m thinking I should meet this Peter guy. Make sure he’s good enough.”

Mrs Landon laughed. “You might find you have things in common with him.”

Mr Landon was confused. “What do you mean?”

She winked at me. “Like those college stories you were talking about before. Maybe you went to college at the same time.”

I put my hands over my ears. “God no, don’t say that!”

Mrs Landon laughed and leaned against her husband, patting his chest. “Peter is more our age than Yanni’s.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding. Then his eyes went wide. “Ohhhh.”

“It’s not like that!” I cried, falling back into the sofa with my hands over my face. “We’re not like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with liking older men, sweetie,” Mrs Landon said, giving her husband a nudge.

“I’m twelve months older than you,” he griped. “And you remind me about it every year.”

“Some things bear repeating,” she smiled winningly. “And yes, there’s something to be said about an older man. More charismatic, more confident.”

Mr Landon grinned wickedly. “More experience.”

I shot up off my seat. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing. If you’re done mortifying me, I’ll just go to my room.”

They both laughed and high-fived each other. Mr Landon was proud. “It’s our parental right to embarrass the kids with sexual innuendoes.”

Mrs Landon added, “What he means to say is, our job isn’t complete until we’ve mortified all our children to the point where they want to run screaming.”

I couldn’t even be mad or embarrassed. She’d said our children like I was included in that. I walked over to her and kissed her cheek, then did the same to Mr Landon. “You’re both ridiculously amazing. Crazy, but amazing.” I headed to the hall. “I’ll be in my room. I will let Peter know our non-date—thank you very much—can go a little later than last week. Then I’ll come back out and help with dinner.”

When I gave them a parting glance, they were both sitting back on the sofa, holding hands and smiling. Like proud parents. And after such a shitty day with horrible memories of my real parents, I now had a smile and a ridiculously full heart.

* * *

Friday night with Sarah’s friends around for dinner was a lot of fun. Amani and Saanvi brought a dish of food each, and I made souvlaki, and we feasted on Iranian, Indian, and Greek food. Yes, they were loud and they laughed a lot, but they included me. They asked me questions, genuinely interested in me as a person. They asked me about my job cleaning at the school, and they asked me about my pending non-date with Peter. They asked me about the classes I wanted to take, and they asked me about the house I would be moving into in a few weeks.

“I’m going to have a look at the house on Sunday,” I explained. “I haven’t seen it yet, but your mom swears I will love it.”

Sarah gave me a beaming smile. “Then I’m sure it will be perfect.”

“And hopefully I’ll get to meet my new roommates,” I said. And made a nervous face. “Fingers crossed no one’s too scary.”

Mrs Landon, who just happened to be walking past, put one arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “They’ll love you.” Then she straightened and put a finger in the air like she’d just remembered something. “Oh, that reminds me. Sarah, don’t forget we have our annual soirée coming up. I do expect you and Andrew to both be here. You too, Yanni.”

The look of panic on Sarah’s face made me nervous. “What’s an annual soirée?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Every year Mom and Dad invite a hundred of their actor friends to the house to talk about how fabulous they all are.”

Mrs Landon pursed her lips and gave Sarah a mock glare before she turned to me to explain. “We have a party once a year to get together with old friends. We’re all so busy, it’s hard to catch up.” She turned back to Sarah. “People look forward to it, and the invitations have already gone out, and I’ve told people you and Andrew will be here.”

Sarah groaned. “He’ll have Spencer this year. Who will I talk to?” She shot me a hopeful glare. “Yanni, you can be my life preserver… I mean date.”

“Oh, Sarah, it’s not that bad.” Mr Landon shoved a mouthful of papadum, curry, and mint yogurt into his mouth. He hummed, “Mm-mm. Saanvi, this is so good.”

“Thanks,” she said brightly. “Family recipe.”

The thought of facing a hundred people, who would all ask me questions like “Where do you fit in here?” and “How do you know the Landons?” made my stomach churn. And if they were friends of the Landons, then there was a very good chance they would be famous stage or screen actors. My nerves shriveled up at the thought. I could meet three people at a time, like Sarah and her friends, but not a hundred. “I uh, I don’t think crowds are a good idea right now.”

Mrs Landon gave my shoulder a squeeze, and I pretended not to see the pointed look she gave Sarah. “That’s fine, dear. I understand.”

The conversation moved on, and the girls were soon laughing again at something they’d seen on social media. But there was a tug at my conscience, that Mrs Landon wanted her family here for her annual soirée, and yet I couldn’t do it.

I was reminded that no matter how far I thought I’d come, it wasn’t as far as I’d hoped, and instead of being leaps and bounds, it was still one small step at a time.

* * *

I met Peter on the steps of the cinema, as we had the week before. He grinned when he saw me, and I tried to play down how happy seeing him made me. He looked more gorgeous today. His dark gray trousers matched the gray hair at his temples; his blue shirt matched his eyes. He was the epitome of understated confidence, like he needed no one else’s approval for anything.

“Hi,” I said as I approached him.

“Hello.” He slid his hand to my elbow and greeted me with a soft kiss on the cheek. “Shall we go in?”

By the time we got our tickets and had taken our seats, my heart rate still hadn’t returned to normal. A kiss on the cheek wasn’t foreign to me―I came from a Greek family!―but something about Peter doing it made my heart flutter and my skin flush. It wasn’t unwelcome; it was unexpected, and I liked it.

“You okay?” Peter eyed me as other patrons took their seats.

“Yeah.” I tried to keep my grin to a moderate smile but failed. “I’m good.”

Peter settled back in his seat and smirked. “How was your week?”

“Good. Busy. How was yours?”

Peter’s eyes sparkled with humor and light. “Good. Busy.”

I laughed and ignored the butterflies in my belly. Thankfully the movie started and was a welcome distraction. Until it wasn’t.

Chaplin was outstanding; the direction, cinematography was all on point. But maybe watching a film about an orphan losing the only family he’d ever known wasn’t the best idea.

When the lights came back on as the credits started to roll, Peter looked at me, and his smile died. “Yanni?”

“I’m okay,” I said too quickly. I took a deep breath and stared at the screen. I didn’t want to see the pity on Peter’s face.

He reached over and took my hand. Warm, strong, and gentle. He waited for everyone else to leave before he spoke. “It’s okay not to be okay.”

I looked at him then, and I must’ve looked like a scared rabbit, but he never faltered. There was no pity in his eyes, just concern. “The movie was just a little too close to home, that’s all.” I tried to smile. “And some days I’m fine, but then other days I’m… not okay.”

He squeezed my hand and threaded our fingers together like he had no intention of going anywhere. “Being not okay is perfectly fine. It makes you human. We all have good and bad things happen to us, but how we deal with what we’ve been given is what matters. And I think you’re doing pretty good. Now, I don’t know much about anything that’s happened to you. All Spencer told me the night I first met you in that diner was that you’d had a rough time, and he kind of told me to tread carefully. But here you are, despite the bad, trying to find the good in life, and that tells me you’re a pretty remarkable guy.”

I let out a shaky breath. “A rough time is one way to describe it. But thank you for understanding and for not running a mile just now.”

He gave a smile but seemed to sense I wasn’t done talking. “I am trying to find the good in life. And I’m trying to take back what he took from me. But it’s not easy.”

“He?”

I blinked a few times and forced the answer out. “My ex.”

Peter squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. I got the feeling that the armrest between us annoyed him, and if he could have, he would’ve pulled me onto his lap. Or maybe I just wished he would.

He looked back at the screen and his brow furrowed for just a moment, and I knew he couldn’t quite get the puzzle pieces to fit. So I filled him in. “The fact that I was disowned by my parents or orphaned like the kid in the movie was just the beginning.”

Peter’s knee bounced, and he frowned. “And it wasn’t the worst, was it?”

I shook my head and whispered, “No.”

He took a moment, then squared his shoulders. “Yet, despite all that, here you are trying to find the good.”

I let out a bit of a laugh so I wouldn’t cry. “I’m trying.”

Just then, an usher walked in, surprised to see us, and kindly asked us to leave. This time when we walked through the doorway, Peter put his hand on my lower back and kept it there like he wanted to protect me. “Still up for coffee?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He let his arm fall, and I missed his touch immediately. But we walked to the coffee shop, ordered, and found a table at the back. I wondered how this would go, considering I’d killed any chance of a light conversation. I didn’t want it to be awkward. I didn’t want to spill my entire life story either. Maybe I’d already said too much, or maybe he deserved a better explanation. Maybe this was all too complicated, too soon.

But Peter never seemed to miss a beat. “So, tell me about all the good things in your life right now.”

I didn’t know how he knew what to say, but having me focus on the positives without disregarding the negatives, or brushing them aside completely, was the perfect thing to do.

“I’m getting my own place. Well, it’s a shared house. I’m moving in a few weeks, but I’m going over tomorrow to check it out and maybe meet my new roommates. Mrs Landon lined it up for me because it’s close to the school and some coffee shops where I might be able to score some work. I thought I might hand in my résumé to a few next week, you know, to try and get in early. I’m going to need an income while I study.”

And so, for the next three hours we talked, we drank coffee, we ordered cake, and we talked some more. I learned his two best friends were old college buddies and had been important people in his life ever since. Mike and Rob were both the same age as Peter, which I already knew to be forty-three. The three of them were successful in their corporate careers, both Mike and Rob were married to lovely women and both had kids, but Peter had remained single.

“You’d just broken up with your last boyfriend when we met at the diner,” I said.

“Ah, yes. His name was Duncan. He was a student when we met; his career was just starting out. We wanted different things. I wanted quiet nights at home, dinner parties, movie nights. He wanted to sleep with random people at nightclubs.” Peter smiled ruefully. “I can joke about it now.”

I smirked and spun my empty cup slowly. “Now, I’m not one to judge people I’ve never met, and truthfully I’m the last one to talk about stupid decisions, but Duncan sounds like a fool.”

Peter chuckled quietly. “The funny thing is, I don’t blame him. I was his age once. I get it, I really do. But I could have done without the deception.”

“I don’t blame you. Honesty is not a difficult concept.”

“No, it’s not. My friends keep telling me I should date someone closer to my own age. And who knows? Maybe they’re right.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You just need someone on the same page as you, not the same age as you. Then their age wouldn’t matter, would it?” I was feeling so much more relaxed and comfortable with him now. I almost felt like my old self.

The blue of Peter’s eyes seemed to intensify. “No, it wouldn’t matter.” He sipped his coffee to seemingly distract himself.

“Because I like older men, and I’m pretty sure my therapist thinks I have daddy issues.”

Peter choked on his coffee and coughed with his hand to his mouth, making me burst out laughing.

“We’re a perfect match. It’s a shame neither of us is ready for anything more.”

Peter composed himself, coughed a bit, and straightened his shirt. “Yes. It’s a shame.”