Gianna.
The moment Mom and I stepped into the car, she let out a soft, content sigh and started driving.
“It feels like we haven’t really caught up in a long time,” she said with a smile, her fingers tapping lightly on the wheel. “I’m happy you agreed to spend today with me.”
“Me too,” I said. And I meant it. Life had been… chaotic. A full day with her felt overdue.
We got to the spa, and the cool scented air washed over me immediately. The receptionist brightened the instant she saw my mom.
“Mrs. Wolfe, welcome. You booked an appointment—your therapist is ready for you. Please enjoy your session, and if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
She guided us toward the changing area with this graceful, almost royal respect.
I smiled to myself. They always treated Mom like she
