VANESSA
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the driveway as Fabian made yet another loop on his bike. His delighted laughter filled the air, warming something deep inside me that had been cold for far too long.
"Mom! Look how fast I can go now!" he called out, pedaling with newfound confidence.
Roman stood beside me, his presence both familiar and strange. We'd been watching Fabian for almost an hour, silently marveling at how quickly he'd mastered this new skill.
"He's a natural," Roman said softly. "Just like his mother."
I shot him a quick glance. "I was terrible at riding bikes. Fell into three different rose bushes before I finally got the hang of it."
"I wasn't talking about bikes." His voice was warm. "I meant his determination. The way he keeps going until he gets it right."
The compliment settled between us, uncomfortable yet not unwelcome.