Two months after the burial, life had not returned to normal for Kendra, but she was learning to breathe again.
The silence in her apartment was not as haunting as it used to be, and little by little, she was letting the memories of her parents become comfort instead of pain.
That evening, she sat curled on the couch in her dimly lit living room, the city lights casting soft shadows through the open blinds. A half-empty mug of tea sat untouched on the table. She didn't flinch when James entered with a quiet knock. He had his own key now. She had allowed that.
James walked in slowly, holding a box of her favourite pastries from the bakery downtown. "Thought you might need a distraction," he said with a soft smile.
She gave him a small nod, eyes tired, but grateful. "You didn't have to,
