Chapter 8 - No Longer Had to Earn Being Loved
And it was Michael, years later, standing in the kitchen of the blue-door house while Lila, now ten, packed her own school lunch.
She placed strawberries in a container.
Then toast.
Then three banana slices cut into moons.
Michael leaned against the counter.
“Need help?”
“No,” she said.
Then, after a pause, “But you can sit.”
He sat.
She pushed one banana moon toward him.
“For you.”
He took it like it was a gift from a queen.
“Thank you.”
Lila looked toward the hallway where the framed wall panel hung.
The little drawn door.
The word OUT.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“If I tell you something hard, do you still stay?”
Michael did not answer too fast.
Promises mattered more when they were not rushed.
“Yes,” he said. “I stay. And I listen.”
She nodded.
Then went back to packing her lunch.
Morning light moved through the kitchen.
Bunny sat on the shelf nearby, one repaired button eye watching over everything.
Breakfast was warm.
May you like
The door was open.
And Lila no longer had to earn being loved.
