When I came back from flushing the condom in the toilet, Mom was lying on top of the covers. She was fully dressed. This time, she patted the side of the bed where she wanted me to sit.

We lay back and watched (actually watched this time) a bunch of banal reality shows. They weren't bad, really. But nothing was better than being with Mom. The whole world seemed muted in comparison.

We ate a staid, almost funereal dinner. As I chewed, I mentally reviewed everything that had happened the past month or so. How Cassie had broken up with me. How Mom and I started watching movies together. Starting...