“To be fair, you were a bit orthodox, but cruel is too big a word to describe your generous heart, Mom," I tell her as she takes regretful sighs. Thank goodness she didn’t cry. I would’ve run away.

Why do the people in my life love drama so much?

"Tell you what; I'll make sure to the best of my ability that you and Ava become best friends,” I promise her.

“But…how? They’ll be leaving for school by the weekend,” she says gloomily.

“We just need to have a family dinner.”

No one is more elated about the dinner than I am. Dad specifically goes to hand over the invite to Ava and Lily to make sure they do not disappoint. I know Ava respects my dad much, and Lily fears him too much to deliberately miss out on the dinner date. Since there was no third world war, no asteroid strikes, and no A.I. takeover, both of them made it.

However, especially as Layla isn’t with us - she had returned to school almost as soon as they discharged me - the dinner is the most uncomfortable one I've had since I crashed Dad’s Rolls-Royce Cullinan.

Even Lily, the physical and social definition of timid, has more talk time than her usually audacious friend, and I can tell why. Mom is sitting opposite Ava, who still feels like a victim. A lot needs to happen before she can feel at ease again.

An evil side of my brain tells me it's better this way. The only thing stronger than one determined woman is two determined women. They'd be a phenomenal manifestation of natural power if they ever come together. I felt relieved that Layla and Ava hadn't been in the same room longer than a few minutes, and that was when I was either out of the room or unconscious.

*************************

The day of their final relocation back into campus comes fast, and my child's growth in her belly is even faster in subsequent months. I have never witnessed the meticulous and affectionate process of creating life up close.

I fall deeper in love with Ava over these months. It is not an uncommon phrase that “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I thought of it like a slow burn, where I’d see reasons to keep falling in love with her, but I was grotesquely wrong.

I wake up every day and discover that I crave her more. The urge to see her gets stronger, and the craving to talk to her unreasonably intense. I want more…even if it's just a second to touch her soft, warm skin…or a single strand of hair. It all feels alien to me as I help Mom inflate the balloons, and I have no choice but to ask, “Hey, Mom, how does it feel to be in love with Dad?”

She stops what she’s doing and faces me. “Oh, you’re in love with Ava, alright. It’s not infatuation,” she laughs me off and continues what she is doing, but that’s not the answer I want, so I shake my head and press further.

“But how does it feel, Mom?”

At this point, she drops the decorations she insists on preparing herself and remarks, “Oh, to be honest, Dylan, I have completely no idea what the word ‘love’ means because it has been tagged to mean different things…but what I know is that the feelings I have for your father will never die. It's kind of like the feeling you have for me…"

“Ew, Mom.”

“Listen.”

I keep quiet and let her talk.

"It's how you love me, and I love you, but with a whole additional layer of complications; the basic foundation is that there is just so much you’re willing to endure and so much you’re willing to sacrifice for that person. That’s love. Any other thing is admiration or just mere respect,” she concludes.

“Oh.”

“That is love, my son. You know when I knew Ava loves you?” she asks.

“When?” I ask with curiosity.

"When I gave her documents to sign, she told me she needed no part of the money I offered. When she knew nothing about your financial status or who you really were, she kept the baby. She finds me annoying enough to pull away, but she is stuck despite all the awkwardness. That is love. Love is sacrifice."

Everything she says brings tears to my eyes. Ava loves me, and I know it is not just because of what Mom mentioned.

“The day we got attacked,” I tell her, "they beat me up bad and too weak to do anything. Ava was kicked in the head and knocked out cold, yet, when she woke up, she tried to beg Gary for a trade. She jumped before me when he didn't listen to shield me from his knife. It was either Gary's life or hers, and if Gary was still alive today, there's a good chance she'd be dead."

The air is solemn as we process what we just said.

"Ava is a good girl, Dylan. I couldn't for my life think of someone better for you."

I nod in appreciation, and we share a hug.

"Now, let's return to these decorations before the driver arrives with our guest of honor.” She pokes me in the side, and I jump out of her way with a giggle before bending and picking up another balloon to inflate.