The question hits me square in the chest.
“Because you’re here,” I state frankly. “Because this is our home. Because your doctors are here. Because your routine is here.”
He shakes his head slowly. “This house is wood and nails,” he says. “It ain’t sacred ground.”
My stomach drops.
“We can sell this house,” he continues calmly. “You can get you something nice in North Carolina. Somewhere with space. Somewhere close to him. And we are blessed because that means close to Josie Mosie too.”
My breath catches.
“And I can go in a nursing home.”
The words hit like a slap. “No,” I choke out immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Danae—”
“No.” My voice cracks, louder now. “I’m not putting you in a home.”
Tears spill fast and hard, blurring everything. “I can’t do that,” I sob. “You think I could sleep at night knowing you’re in some room with strangers?”
He reaches out and cups my hand gently. “I don’t need you to sacrifice your life for me,” he says.
“It’s not a sacrifice,” I insist, shaking.
I feel the shift. I know Miles is closer now.
Grandpa sighs. “I liked that boy from the beginning,” he says. “But I respect him now.”
I blink up at him. “Respect him?” I repeat.
He nods. “He was ready to give everything up for you.”
My heart thunders.
“I heard enough last night,” he continues. “He’s stepping down. Moving here.”
The weight of it hits me all over again. “And that’s exactly why I’m talking,” Grandpa states firmly.
Miles steps up into the living room now beside me.
His hair is damp, t-shirt tight against his chiseled chest and shorts hanging low, expression serious but not defensive. He doesn’t look at me first.
He looks at Grandpa. “Sir,” he says respectfully.
Grandpa nods at him. “You were listening.”
“Didn’t mean to,” Miles admits. “But I did.”
The room goes still. Miles steps closer, hands relaxed at his sides. “Can I ask you something?” he says gently.
Grandpa gestures for him to continue. “If Nanny had asked you to leave everything,” Miles says carefully, “would you have?”
Grandpa doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
Miles nods once, jaw tight. “Then I don’t see the burden,” he says. “Or the problem with me coming here.”
My breath catches. Miles glances at me then, and there’s no hesitation in his eyes.
