“Do you understand what you’re asking for? What you think you want? I have baggage.” “Who doesn’t?” I lean in and pinch her chin, forcing her to look at me. “I want your baggage. All your good and your bad. I want to be the keeper of your pain, joy, and tears. I want to be another reason you smile when you come home. I want you to be my pleasure, my purpose. You’re my dream, Erin. You’re the reason I break every speed limit to get here when I visit. You’re the reason I haven’t had a Thanksgiving with my family since college. You’re the—”
