Elin'sPOV

"I have things I need to do," I whisper. "Before I can—before I can let go."

Mom squeezes my hand. "Then do them. But don't punish him forever for trying to change."

Dinner is perfect.

Aaron plates the food carefully—roasted vegetables, seasoned chicken, everything exactly how my mother likes it. We sit around the small table, and for a moment, it's almost normal.

"This is delicious," Mom says. "You're quite the cook."

Aaron smiles, but his eyes are on me. "I've had ...