I covered my mother’s hands with mine, trying to provide her with some type of comfort.
“And he will,” I assured her. “I promise.”
Not before long, the room was filled with the scent of garlic from the pasta sauce. Had Ethan made pasta sauce from scratch?
He didn’t need to do all of that; I just needed my mother to have a little something in her system. I, on the other hand, wasn’t hungry because I had already eaten a large meal at Gavin’s house.
Soon, Ethan was walking into the living room with a couple of plates. He handed me one and I set it on the table, and then he handed my mother one. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw the gourmet-looking meat sauce on the pasta.
“You didn’t need to do all of that,” I told him. “The jar of sauce would have been fine.”
He rolled his
