I reached up and pressed the palm of my hand to his cheek. “I love you. You know that, right?” I’d never said it before, not to anyone who hadn’t given birth to me, but I fucking meant it.
He whimpered, sputtered tears everywhere, and dug his forehead painfully into my collarbone. I just held him, trying to be everything to him, knowing I was nothing but a warm place to bury his pain. But that’s what he needed, and that’s what I’d be.