I never told him how much I miss that.
The way he’d go still for just a second before he hugged back.
He always held us the tightest.
• • •
We were constantly in trouble.
Not my fault. Never my idea.
I always went along with it. No hesitation. No questions asked.
Because I’d do anything for him.
Because when he smiles — really smiles — it lights up everything.
And it’s rare.
So when it’s directed at me, it feels like something I get to keep.
Something that’s mine.
I just didn’t know how much I would end up paying for it.
There was one time we snuck into the pool next door.
For absolutely no reason.
My pool was bigger. Better. Fully equipped — noodles, jets, a small slide, the works. Cassian had been in it a hundred times.
We went to this barely filled in pool down the street anyway.
Next thing I know we’re being chased down and sprinting for our lives. Cassian lost his shorts somewhere in the chaos — snagged on the fake rocks surrounding the pool — and as punishment for dragging me into it, I refused to help him.
I watched him James Bond his way home through every bush and car on the street.
I was laughing so hard I could barely keep up.
He was furious.
It’s one of my favorite memories.
• • •
He came on our winter trip that year.
Colorado. A ski trip.
Cassian did not pack a single winter outfit.
My mom stood there staring into his bag like she was waiting for a coat to materialize. It didn’t. She looked at my dad. My dad looked at the ceiling.
They bought him an entire winter wardrobe that afternoon without making it into a thing.
That was always them.
• • •
