We shared everything – cookies, sneaking out of the kitchen, hushed conversations after bedtime, and dreams of who we would be when we were finally free from that place.
We had been through it together.
When we turned eighteen, we stood outside with nothing but worn-out gym bags at our feet.
Nora looked at me, tears glistening in her eyes.
“No matter what happens, Ollie,” she said, squeezing my hand, “we will always be family. Promise me that.”
“I promise,” I replied – and I meant it with all my heart.
And we kept that promise.
Even when life took us to different cities, when the weeks passed too quickly and the phone calls became shorter, we were never truly apart.
Nora worked as a waitress.
I jumped from job to job until I finally found a permanent job at a thrift store.
Only someone who has been through it together like we have can feel this way.
When she found out she was pregnant, she called me crying – tears of joy.
“Ollie, I’m having a baby,” she said.
“You’re going to be an uncle.”
I held Leo in my arms for the first time, just a few hours after he was born.
His fists were small and wrinkled, his dark hair soft, his eyes still trying to focus.
Nora looked exhausted and radiant at the same time.
When she put him in my arms, something inside me snapped.
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