I arch an eyebrow. “Of course they did.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “As a deterrent. Something visible. Something that changes the equation without escalating it. Alarms can be ignored. Cameras can be avoided. A dog makes people rethink their choices.”
He arranges smoked salmon on a platter, careful and neat, lemon wedges tucked beside it, capers in a small bowl. There’s already a bowl of berries waiting, strawberries sliced, blueberries rinsed, pomegranate seeds scattered like they were placed deliberately, because they were.
“But that’s not why I chose him,” he adds.
I pause with the coffee cups in my hands. “Then why?”
He turns to face me fully. “Because of what it would do for your father.”
I swear I fall deeper and deeper, not just every day, but every second.
“He needs routine,” Aleks continues. “Presence. Something that grounds him in the day. And something that chooses him every morning, no matter what kind of day it is.”
My throat tightens.
“He’s always wanted a dog,” I say softly. “Since I was little. It was always a someday thing that never happened.”
Aleks nods. “Niko is good with kids. Exceptionally. That was non-negotiable.”
I smile despite myself. “Of course it was.”
“He’s three,” Aleks adds. “Which means he’s been through more training than most military personnel before they step into the field. Obedience. Protection. Socialization. Crowds. Noise. Kids pulling tails and grabbing fur. He doesn’t react, he assesses.”
He reaches for the bacon, crisp and perfect, lines the platter with a cloth napkin, and presentation still matters even when no one’s watching.Who’d have thought?
“He knows how to read people,” he says. “Especially when they’re vulnerable.”
I swallow.
“That matters,” I say. “Dad loves the black bears at the zoo. Always has. Says they’re calm and powerful and mind their business.”
Aleks smiles faintly. “You sent that to me in a text, and a picture from the Zoo. That’s why I knew.”
Niko. Big. Grounded. Gentle unless he needs not to be.
We move around each other easily, setting out yogurt and honey, oatmeal with brown sugar and walnuts, because Dad will eat it even if he claims he won’t. I pour the coffee, rich and dark, steam curling up between us.
“You didn’t just think about security,” I say quietly. “You thought about his heart.”
Aleks doesn’t deflect. “I did.” He leans over and kisses me on the top of my head. “What matters to you, now matters to me. That will never change.”
We carry the platters into the dining room together.
Dad is already seated. Niko is at his feet, settled like this has always been the arrangement. Dad’s hand rests on the dog’s head, fingers moving slowly, rhythmically. Niko leans into the touch just enough to be felt.
Anchored. Present. Loved.
“You gave her a house?” Nalani laughs.
“In Switzerland?” Noelle asks.
He totally did, and that gift was given to me right before he opened the small box with my genetics test results, specifically the APOE genotyping, and the doctor’s note that I am not at highrisk. He didn’t have to ask what that meant, but I did tell him, one, and then we can adopt as many as you want. The way he beamed made it more of a gift for me.
“Family is important to her, and this is one of the few places I am allowed to see my brother.”
“How many bedrooms?” Claudia asked.
