The way he says baby makes me want to kiss him in that way good news makes you want to kiss the deliverer of that good news. I know what you’re thinking, Beau, and it’s not like that. The desire to kiss him has little to do with attraction and everything to do with recognition—in him, I see the soft ache of shared suffering, an incurable longing to go back in time and shield his baby sister from any and all threats. A kiss would mean I see you.
