I wake up to tiny paws kneading my face.
For a moment, I'm completely disoriented—this isn't my room, that's not my ceiling, and there's definitely a small creature trying to wake me up by stepping on my nose.
Then I remember.
Lily.
I'm at Cecil's place. Having a sleepover with the most perfect kitten in the entire universe.
"Good morning, sweet baby," I murmur, carefully extracting her paws from my face. "Are you hungry?"
Lily mews loudly in response, which I'm choosing to interpret as "yes, please feed me immediately, I'm starving."
I check my phone. 7:30 AM.
Early, but not unreasonably so. And Lily is clearly not going to let me sleep any longer.
I scoop her up and make my way to the kitchen, still half-asleep but smiling because Lily is purring like a tiny motor against my chest.
The apartment is quiet—everyone else is probably still asleep.
I'm just starting to look for the kitten formula when I hear footsteps behind me.
"Morning."
I turn to find Cecil in the doorway, already dressed, and—
Is he wearing a turtleneck?
It's not that cold. The apartment is actually pretty warm.
But maybe he just runs cold? Some people do.
"Morning!" I say brightly, pushing the thought aside. "Sorry, did we wake you?"
"No, I was already up." He moves to help me, pulling the formula from the cabinet and showing me how much to use. "She's probably starving. She has very strong opinions about breakfast time."
"I noticed." I watch as he prepares the bottle with practiced efficiency. "You're really good at this."
"I've had to practice." He hands me the bottle and I settle at the table to feed Lily.
She latches on immediately, purring so loud I can feel the vibration through her tiny body.
Cecil leans against the counter, watching us with a small smile.
"So," I say carefully. "I was thinking... would it be okay if I stayed a bit longer? I know I said just one night, but—"
My phone rings.
I glance at the screen and freeze.
Mom.
She never calls this early unless it's important.
"Sorry, I need to take this." I carefully balance Lily and the bottle in one arm and answer with the other. "Hi, Mom."
"Naomi, sweetie. Good morning." Mom's voice is warm but there's something underneath it. Something careful. "Do you have time to talk? In person?"
My stomach does a complicated flip.
"Um. Yeah. When?"
"This morning? I know it's short notice, but I have some time and I thought—" She pauses. "I'd like to see you. If you're available."
"Yeah. Okay. Where?"
"The garden? Our usual spot?"
"I'll be there in an hour."
"Perfect. See you soon, sweetie."
She hangs up and I stare at my phone for a moment.
Cecil is watching me with concern. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. I just—my mom wants to meet. She never calls this early." I look down at Lily, who's finished her bottle and is now trying to climb my shirt. "I should probably go."
"You can come back after," Cecil says. "If you want. Lily will be here."
"Really?"
"Really. You're always welcome, Naomi."
The words settle something in my chest that I didn't realize was unsettled.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
---
The celestial garden is as beautiful as always—flowers in impossible colors, eternal golden light, the kind of peace that only exists in places touched by divinity.
Mom is waiting at our usual bench, and when she sees me, her face lights up with genuine joy.
"Naomi!" She stands and pulls me into a hug. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course." I hug her back, breathing in the familiar scent of flowers and sunshine that always clings to her. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine." She pulls back, gesturing for me to sit. "I just... I wanted to talk to you. Really talk to you. We haven't had much time lately and I—" She stops, her expression turning guilty. "I'm sorry, sweetie."
I blink. "Sorry for what?"
"For being so busy. For the summit and all the celestial politics and—" She takes my hands. "You've been dealing with so much lately. Your struggles with happiness, feeling empty, and I wasn't there the way I should have been."
Oh.
Oh.
"Mom, it's okay. You have responsibilities—"
"You're my responsibility too," she interrupts gently. "My daughter. And I let myself get so caught up in divine duties that I forgot the most important one." Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Naomi. I should have been there for you more."
Something in my chest cracks.
"I didn't want to bother you," I admit quietly. "You were so busy and what I was going through seemed so small compared to—"
"Nothing you're going through is small." Mom's voice is firm. "Your feelings matter. Your struggles matter. You matter."
The tears come before I can stop them.
"I felt so alone," I whisper. "Like everyone expected me to be happy all the time because I'm the Goddess of Happiness and I couldn't tell anyone that I felt empty because then I'd be failing at the one thing I'm supposed to be good at—"
Mom pulls me into another hug, tighter this time. "You're not failing. You're never failing. Being the Goddess of Happiness doesn't mean you have to be happy all the time. It means you understand happiness—all its forms, all its absences."
"But I couldn't feel it. For myself."
"I know. And that must have been terrifying." She pulls back, wiping my tears with her thumbs. "But you found help, didn't you? Cecil and his partners."
"Yeah." I manage a watery smile. "They let me stay with them. They listened. They didn't try to fix me or tell me to just be happy. They just... let me be not okay."
"Good." Mom's expression is fierce and proud. "That's what you needed."
We sit there for a while, just being together.
Eventually, Mom speaks again. "I'm not as busy anymore. The summit is over. Things are settling down." She squeezes my hands. "So I was thinking—would you want to spend more time together? Regular time. Not just when there's a crisis or a celestial event. Just... us."
"Really?"
"Really. Maybe next week? We could go somewhere nice. Just the two of us. A proper mother-daughter day."
The warmth in my chest is almost overwhelming.
"I'd really like that," I say.
"Good." Mom smiles. "It's a date then."
A date. With my mom. Who actually wants to spend time with me.
Who's making time for me.
The realization hits me all at once.
Cecil, Keith, and Dylan aren't the only ones who care about me.
Mom does too. She always has. She just got lost in responsibilities for a while.
But she's here now.
And she wants to be here.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?"
"For making time. For being here. For—" My voice cracks. "For caring."
Mom's eyes fill with tears again. "Oh, sweetie. I always care. I always will. You're my daughter. There's nothing more important than that."
We hug again, and this time it feels different.
Like something that was broken is starting to heal.
---
I return to the apartment around noon, still feeling emotional but in a good way.
The moment I open the door, Lily comes running—well, more like stumbling with enthusiasm—toward me, mewing loudly.
"Hi, baby!" I scoop her up and she immediately starts purring. "Did you miss me?"
"She's been waiting by the door for the past twenty minutes," Cecil says from where he's leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen.
He's still wearing the turtleneck.
Definitely hiding something.
But I'm not going to ask. That's their business.
"So," Cecil says casually. "Do you have any plans for next week?"
I blink at the non-sequitur. "Um. Yeah, actually. My mom and I are going to spend the day together. Why?"
"Just curious." He smiles. "You can come back here anytime you want, though. Lily will miss you when you leave."
"Just Lily?" I tease.
"We'll all miss you," he amends, and the sincerity in his voice makes my chest warm.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "For letting me stay. For being there when I needed it. For—everything."
"That's what friends do," Cecil says simply.
Friends.
Yeah. That's what we are.
Real friends who actually care about each other.
"Can I stay one more night?" I ask. "With Lily?"
"Of course."
---
That evening, Keith suggests a movie.
"What do we want to watch?" Dylan asks from the couch.
"Titanic," I say immediately.
Keith groans. "Not Titanic."
"What's wrong with Titanic?"
"He cries during the entire thing," Dylan explains, amused.
"That's not true. I only cry during most of it."
"Keith, we've watched it three times and you've cried three times."
"It's a sad movie!"
"Then why do you keep agreeing to watch it?" I ask.
"Because I'm weak and I love you all."
We settle in—Cecil and Dylan on the couch, Keith in the armchair, me on the floor with Lily curled up in my lap.
The movie starts.
Twenty minutes in, Keith is already sniffling.
"They're just drawing," Dylan observes.
"It's beautiful," Keith manages, wiping his eyes.
By the time the ship starts sinking, Keith is full-on crying—the kind of crying that involves tissues and hiccupping breaths.
Cecil reaches over and hands him the tissue box without comment.
Keith takes it gratefully, blowing his nose loudly.
"This is why we can't watch sad movies," Dylan says, but he's smiling.
"I'm emotionally available!" Keith protests. "It's a gift!"
"It's something," Cecil agrees, but his tone is fond.
Lily, apparently disturbed by Keith's crying, climbs out of my lap and makes her way over to him.
She manages to scale the armchair with impressive determination and settles on Keith's lap, purring loudly.
Keith immediately starts petting her, his crying quieting slightly.
"See?" He looks at us triumphantly, tears still streaming down his face. "Lily understands."
"Lily thinks you're sad and is trying to help," Dylan corrects.
"Same thing."
We finish the movie—Keith crying through the entire ending, Lily providing emotional support, the rest of us pretending we're not also a little misty-eyed.
When the credits roll, Keith is still sniffling.
"Every time," he mutters. "Every single time."
"We know," Cecil says gently.
"Maybe we should stop watching it."
"But then what would we tease you about?" Dylan asks.
"You could tease me about literally anything else."
"But this is so much more entertaining."
Keith throws a pillow at him.
Dylan catches it effortlessly.
And I sit there, watching them banter and laugh and just exist together, with Lily purring in Keith's lap and the warm evening light streaming through the windows.
This is what happiness looks like, I realize.
Not constant joy or endless smiling.
But this.
People who care about each other. Who show up. Who let you stay when you need it and cry during movies and adopt kittens and make time for each other even when it's hard.
This is what I've been looking for all along.
And I found it.
Here, with them.
My friends.
My family.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
They all look at me.
"For what?" Cecil asks.
"For this. For letting me be part of it."
Keith's expression softens. "You're always part of it, Naomi. Always."
"Forever," Dylan adds.
"Even when you steal my cat," Cecil says, but he's smiling.
I laugh, and it's genuine and real and comes from somewhere deep in my chest where the emptiness used to be.
"I love you guys," I say.
"Love you too," they chorus.
Lily mews in agreement.
And everything feels exactly right.