I became a mother at seventeen—and my parents took my baby from me. Now, twenty-one years later, the man living next door looks exactly like the child I lost.

We talked for hours after that.

It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easy.

But before he left, he handed me a cup of coffee and said, a little awkwardly,

“‘Mom’ might be too much right now… but coffee works.”

And for now…

coffee is enough.