Flo adjusted his tie in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time. It was a simple black tie, paired with a white shirt and the blazer Alex had once bought for him. He sighed, pulling at the hem of his shirt. “Just a birthday party,” he muttered to himself, as if the world would make it feel any less daunting. But it wasn’t just any party—it was Ulrike’s, Alex’s mom.

The gift bag on the counter caught his eye, containing Ulrike’s favorite wine and some seeds for rare vegetables. He hoped it was enough. Musica meowed softly from the couch, her dark eyes fixed on him. “Don’t worry,” Flo said, forcing a smile. “I’ll survive.” Munchkin, sprawled beside her, flicked her tail lazily.

The drive to Alex’s family home was familiar yet surreal. The streets, the landmarks, even the slight uphill of the driveway—they all carried echoes of laughter and memories that felt like another life. The house came into view, its red brick walls and rose climbing the wall unchanged. Flo parked, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

Paul, Alex’s brother, opened the door before Flo could knock. His beard was longer than Flo remembered, and there even were some hairs on his head. “Hey,” Paul greeted, his smile warm but subdued. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Flo replied.

Paul stepped aside, letting him in. “Mom’s in the kitchen. Dad’s out back with the grill, and the rest are scattered around. Mostly friends of Mom and Dad.”

The scent of roasted vegetables and grilled meat filled the air as Flo walked in. The house felt the same, yet different. Alex wasn’t here to fill it with her vibrant energy. Instead, it was quieter, almost reverent, though laughter bubbled softly from the living room.

Ulrike emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. When she saw Flo, her face lit up with a mixture of surprise and warmth.

“Flo!” she said, pulling him into a hug. Her embrace was firm, the kind that felt like home. She pulled back, holding him at arm’s length. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too,” Flo said, his voice steady despite the lump forming in his throat. He handed her the gift bag. “Happy birthday. I hope this isn’t too much.”

Ulrike peeked into the bag, her smile softening. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Flo. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s the least I could do,” he said.

Paul took the bag from Ulrike and set it on the counter, giving Flo a small nod. “Mom’s been talking about buying new seeds for weeks. You’re already a favorite tonight.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Ulrike laughed and motioned for Flo to follow her. They passed through the living room, where Alex’s dad, Mike, was chatting with a group of family friends. He waved when he spotted Flo.

“Flo!” Mike called, his booming voice cutting through the room. “Good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you too, Mike,” Flo replied, shaking his hand.

Mike clapped him on the shoulder. “Help yourself to anything. Paul’s manning the drinks table, so don’t let him slack off.”

Flo chuckled and moved toward the kitchen, where Ulrike poured him a glass of red wine. “How have you been?” she asked gently.

“Better,” Flo said after a pause. “Some days are harder than others, but I’m trying.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Ulrike’s brows lifted in surprise, but her smile never wavered. “That’s wonderful, Flo. I’m glad to hear it.”

“It’s still new,” he added, feeling a strange need to qualify it. “But he’s kind. Patient.”

Ulrike reached across the counter, squeezing his hand. “Alex would be happy for you. She’d want you to find joy again.”

Her words settled over him like a comforting blanket. He didn’t trust himself to respond, so he nodded, returning the squeeze.

The evening unfolded gently, with light conversation and laughter filling the rooms. Flo kept mostly to Ulrike and Mike, avoiding the groups of their friends he didn’t know well. Paul joined him occasionally, teasing him about being too polite to sit down or leave an empty plate.

As the night wound down, Ulrike walked him to the door. The porch light illuminated her face, and for a brief moment, Flo realized, that this is what Alex would have looked in some years. Alex had always been the spitting image of her mother at the same age.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice soft. “It means more to us than you know.”

Flo smiled. “Thank you for having me. And for… everything.”

The drive home was quieter than the drive there. Flo didn’t feel lighter exactly, but something about the evening had settled a part of him. Sharing space with Alex’s family, seeing them carry on, gave him a small sense of permission to do the same.

When he opened the door, Musica and Munchkin were waiting for him. Musica rubbed against his leg, purring, while Munchkin meowed expectantly.

“I’m home,” Flo said softly, setting his keys down and scooping Musica into his arms. “And it’s going to be okay.”