“Did you think Cassie could be the mommy in our house too?” I ask, trying to gauge where the question is coming from. His face scrunches up. “No, that’s different.” I nod, like I understand. I don’t. “She lived with us too. What’s different about it?” “Cassie was my babysitter, dad,” he drawls, rolling his eyes like he thinks I’m clueless. “Ash is way more than that.”
