"Don't be nervous." I reassure Aaron as we make our way to my house. "My mom's going to love you."

"Okay...I just know how much all of this means, and I don't wanna mess it up, you know?" I smile, giddy that he cares. I've never really had that before.

"You can't mess it up. Believe me." But when I ring the doorbell, I wonder if he can. What if they hate each other? I think having had such a horrible experience with Aaron's parents is psyching me out of all this. What if everything is just as bad here?

But then my mom opens the door. "Ivy! Aaron!" Her smile is warm, and inviting, her hair slicked back into her usual bun. I let out a breath.

She feels so familiar. Her voice, and the way her glasses fall just below her eye line. I always used to make fun of her for it, but in this moment, I love it. I love it because it wouldn't be her if she changed it.

But nothing has changed, and it never will between us. Even though everything else is changing, not between us. Not my mom, and I.

She wraps me in a tight embrace, all my worries melting along her back. "How've you been, Iv's?"

She goes in to hug Aaron whose face has gone from tense to smiling within seconds. My mom has that effect. "Good now that I'm here," I say truthfully. "I've missed you."

She laughs. "I know, but come on. Your boyfriends waiting to get inside. Cry about missing me later." Aaron gives me a teasing look.

"I wasn't gonna cry, mom." I put my suitcase in the living room, the carpet the same green colour I've always remembered it to be. It's probably weird going from a mansion to this tiny place, but judging by the look on Aaron's face, he doesn't seem to mind.

Truthfully, I don't either. This is home, and I think it always will be. "I'm gonna get you guys some food," my mom says. "Pasta!" She knows it's my favourite.

And while she's in the kitchen, Aaron and I sit on the living room couch. The rich aroma's fill the air, and other than the pots clanging in the distance, there's silence.

I'm first to break it. "So?" I want to ask if he hates it. If this is too much for him. If he wants to stay somewhere better. Maybe he's not used to living in non-mansions. He seems happy, but what if he's acting?

"So," he finally replies. "I'm sorry, Iv's..." I swat his arm. "But I think your mom might be my new favourite person." And I don't think I've ever felt so much happiness, and relief all at once.