Faustino leaned over to Tristan, his voice low enough to keep their conversation private.
“So… why are you being nice to Aiden all of a sudden?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Tristan. “It’s unlike you.”
Tristan shrugged, his face expressionless. “Because I felt like it.”
“You felt like it? Is that all?” Faustino raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
Tristan nodded, but his mind drifted back to the night Aiden had been drunk. Since then, he’d been curious about something: why Aiden hated having a "Mom." It had never been any of his business before, but now he couldn’t help but wonder what Aiden must have gone through.
The comment had been brief, almost casual, but Tristan couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deeper behind it. Maybe Aiden felt alo
