“I’m making pancakes,” Emily announced.
Riley made a tiny, childlike sound of delight. “You’re my favorite Morrison right now.”
Brent snorted. He didn’t mind losing that title to Emily. He knew Riley loved her like the doting uncle he’d been acting as practically forever.
It was good to be confident that if something happened to him, Emily would still have someone. Riley would look out for her. He’d promised as much before, and Brent had no reason to doubt him.
“I need a minute before I can stand,” Brent said.
The crushing weight of Rose leaving him didn’t seem quite so crushing this morning. He remembered sitting on the couch and crying his heart out, Riley rubbing his shoulders and telling him everything would be okay, that it was okay to cry, that he needed to grieve before he could heal.
Riley, as usual, had been right. The world felt lighter this morning, minus the pounding headache.
“I’m gonna eat all your pancakes,” Riley said, springing up from the couch as though he hadn’t drank the other half of the bottle of champagne.
Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe Brent had managed to drink more than he thought.
As decisions went, it probably wasn’t the worst. It had given him the freedom to cry, and he needed that.
Brent eventually hauled himself off the floor, following Emily and Riley into the kitchen.
He watched Emily gather ingredients, Riley offering pancake tips as she did so, the two of them laughing and joking back and forth. If nothing else, this had been a reminder that he was lucky to have them.
Even if neither of them were going to be in his life every day from now on, he was still lucky they were there at all. No one had a better best friendorlittle sister. Not as far as Brent was concerned.
That was enough. He needed to be more grateful for what he had.
