I swallow, throat clicking. “He’s moving around a lot.” “A good sign,” he says, lips curving into a slow grin. “He’s strong. I know it.” The barely-hidden softness in his eyes is too much to bear, and I find myself reaching for that lock of hair again, rubbing it between my fingers. It’s stupid to miss someone I live with. Someone who’s barely been nice to me until recently. Someone I can hardly get off my back now that he occasionally is nice to me. But I do miss him.
