“Other than being able to track you through the bond? You told me in a letter that you’d sit up here waiting for your father to come home.” I reach for the plate, then hold it in front of him. “I know chocolate cake isn’t going to fix this, but in my defense, I got it for you when I’d just thought you’d had a shit day, before I knew what really happened.” He glances at the slice, then leans in and brushes his mouth over mine before grabbing it. “I’m not used to people taking care of me. Thank you.” “Get used to it.”
