He’d been the best part of every single one of my days ever since that very first one, and he’d never told me I was too excitable or too bouncy or too clumsy or too much. He’d never gotten tired of me or needed a break or rolled his eyes when I freaked out and talked too fast or forgot to breathe. Ever since the beginning, he’d let me shower him with all the enthusiasm and adoration and energy that always seemed to wear everyone else out, and he’d never once pushed me away. Instead, he always pulled me closer. He… he basked in it. Had he needed it? Needed me? Wait, Gage actually did need me?
