Lately, time had been passing gently. Jimi was responding well to the treatment and medications, Fred came every day—sometimes twice—and… maybe we were dating. But we hadn’t slept together again since that first night. I still needed more proof that he had really changed before I could give him a real chance. And Fred accepted it. He never pressured me.

His parents had started showing up too. I allowed it, but with conditions: visits not too frequent, not too long. And that’s how it ...