The scent of lavender and old books hung heavy in his room, a sanctuary of quiet amidst the sprawling, sun-drenched countryside mansion. Miles' mother, Rio, sat on the edge of his bed, her fingers nervously tracing the worn leather of its headboard. She couldn't believe the confession tumbling from her lips.

"I need to talk to you," Rio said, her voice softer than the rustle of the wind through the nearby oak trees.

His eyes, alert with curiosity, flickered up from the book he'd been pretending to read. "Everything okay, Rio?" he asked, his voice betraying a trace of teenage boredom that quickly evaporated when he saw her expression.

Rio remained seated on the edge of his bed, her heart a drum solo in her chest. This wasn't easy. The house, a sprawling countryside mansion, was Miles' inheritance, but every corner, every echo, resonated with her son. And now, she found herself drawn to his best friend, a man who reminded her of Miles in ways that were both painful and exhilarating.

"I... I have something to tell you," she began again, her voice catching on the words she'd rehearsed so many times.

He looked at her then, his expression shifting from casual to concerned, a hint of anxiety flickering in his eyes. He had never really thought of Rio as anything other than Miles' mom, the kind woman who made the best chocolate chip cookies and who listened patiently to his grumbling about work.

"It's about Miles," she continued, the words tumbling out like a waterfall. "He's my everything, but... with you... things are different."

His brow furrowed in confusion. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his gaze flitting across the room as if searching for an explanation in the old books that lined the walls.

"I've fallen in love with you," Rio confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken anxieties and possibilities.