And when the night is over, Lucky follows me home and climbs into my bed as if he’s done it a million times before. He cries for a short while as the day catches up to him. But I hold him through it, thankful for the privilege, and eventually, his tears dry. It’s some time later when he speaks, his voice so quiet and sleepy I almost miss it. “This is real, El. Me and you, it’s real.”
