Cade’s words from the hill still echoed in me, looping quiet but insistent. I didn’t reply, not because my own feelings weren’t growing, but because grief is a fog that bends everything out of shape.
It didn’t feel fair to hold him, or myself to declarations made in that haze. Some things deserved to be said twice; once in the shadow of pain, and again in the light of certainty.
So I remained silent. Not out of doubt, but of care.
The days after stretched long and dull. Cade was quieter than usual, slower to laugh, prone to long hours with the blinds pulled shut. He went through the motions but without the spark that usually pulled me into his orbit.
It wasn’t hard to guess why. It was still the week of his parents’ anniversary, and he was caught in mourning.
I let him be, giving him
