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“I know what he did.” The anger fades. Gazing up at me with pleading eyes, he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I thought if I…if you…that maybe we…” I sigh, stroking his hair. “Oh, Stavi.” That’s all I have to say before he goes back to hiding his face between my legs. “Come on,” I say, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Get up. We have to talk.” His voice turns petulant. “I don’t want to talk. I know what you’re going to say.” “Stavi—” “No!” I used to hate it when he’d get like this, stubborn as a child denied his favorite toy. I also hate the only thing that can budge him. “If you’re good, I’ll let you do it.” He goes still. His voice comes out small. “You will?” “Yes. Get up.” In one swift unbending of limbs, he’s standing, looking down at me with his heart in his eyes. No
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