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"Speaking of… you hungry?"

She cocks a brow. "I just left Mabels…"

I tilt my head back. "Ah… full stomach, full fridge. Got it."

Lenny laughs. "Hey, Ang wasn't much better from what I remember."

"Worse maybe—that Italian blood."

"True."

She goes quiet, her eyes glancing behind me.

"A tour then? We didn't make it past the kitchen last time."

She nods and follows me as I move further into the apartment.

"You saw all this," I say, gesturing around.

There's a bout of silence and then—

"Does she hate me?"

I twist around. "Who?"

"Your mom."

I twist back slowly, continuing toward the hallway. "She used to," I admit.

She sucks in a breath, but I don't turn around. It's true—and at the time, it was warranted. But I'm not sure I could say it while looking at her face.

"You broke her only son's heart. Feels like that tracks."

"Yeah, no I understand."

I pause in front of the first door. "Bathroom," I say, nodding toward it. Her eyes flick inside. "But she loved you too, you know."

I keep walking.

"So when you disappeared, I think she felt just as abandoned as I did."

I lean in the next doorframe. "Guest room."

Lenny looks over the navy comforter tucked around the king-sized bed, the dark oak dresser and matching end tables, and the paint-splattered art hanging above the headboard.

"I know."

I push off the wall. "You do?"

We continue down the hall side-by-side, one slow step at a time.

"I ran into her once at Black Kettle."

"The bookstore?"

She keeps her eyes on the plush tan carpet lining the hall. "She was looking for baby books for your sister." Her voice softens. "I was getting books for my first year at MCCC."

My stomach sinks. "She never told me."