Jake stood frozen when he saw us together.
“Mom, please let me explain.”
“I’m listening.”
He sat beside me, his eyes filling with tears.
After David’s death, I’d gradually withdrawn from the world.
I’d stopped visiting friends, abandoned my beloved choir, and refused to celebrate birthdays.
My life had become an endless routine of working, cooking, and sleeping.
Jake had watched me grow lonelier every year.
When he told Linda about my sadness, she offered to help.
Together, they’d arranged something extraordinary.
They were helping restore the old community music hall where David and I had first met.
A local organization had begun renovating the abandoned building, and Linda had contributed money toward the project.
Jake planned to surprise me there on my 58th birthday.
My former choir members were already invited.
“Then why invent this ridiculous relationship?” I asked.
Jake lowered his head.
“Because every time I tried to get you involved in something, you refused. I thought this would make you pay attention and eventually lead you back into the world. But it went terribly wrong.”
