Marcus took a breath.
“I don’t hate you anymore,” he said.
Then:
“But there’s nothing left between us either.”
Li Mei nodded and didn’t argue.
She turned around and left slowly, like someone losing something important but no longer having the right to keep it.
When the door closed, I went to my son and took his hand.
“Are you okay?”
He smiled — a real smile, the kind I had been waiting ten years to see again.
“I am now, Mom.”
That night, the restaurant was fuller than ever.
It eventually got a name.
People started calling it The Second Life.
And it fit.
One morning, I opened the door and found my son standing in the sunlight.
No hurry.
No fear.
Just breathing.
“Mom,” he said. “If you hadn’t come that day, I would still be there.”
I stayed quiet.
He looked at me.
“Thank you for not leaving me alone.”
I held him without crying, without making any speech.
