Just because he could.
I stood there for a full five seconds after, holding a bottle of shampoo, completely short-circuited.
Two years ago I would have given anything for that.
Now it’s just a Tuesday.
I don’t know what to do with that.
And it makes me feel like I had to give up the person I loved most in this world to get it.
It makes me hate myself sometimes.
I’m still figuring it out.
• • •
I don’t know this version of him.
I’ve spent so many years sorting through every version of Cassian and this one is new.
Easy. Present. Mine in public.
Maybe I never knew as much as I thought.
Or maybe this was always in there and he just needed eleven years and one very bad night to let it out.
Either way I’m not asking questions.
I’m going to the aquarium.
My dad is happy seeing me happy.
He’s currently funding our adventures without being asked or thanked properly, which says everything about Daniel Hayes.
I think he’s enjoying watching us.
He also packed us snacks this morning like we were going on a field trip.
We’re eighteen.
He packed us snacks.
I wanted to cry.
I ate every single one.
• • •
Anyway, today is the seaquarium.
Cassian complained about this choice for approximately forty-five minutes.
Then bought me cotton candy the second we walked in.
And ate my cotton candy.
Make it make sense.
