[Sunny slumps forward, and Aubrey wraps herself around him, free arm rounding his back and rubbing, soothing, steady.

[Even so, her own breath shakes. She’s gotten better at muffling herself for Sunny, but… hearing him like this never gets easier. Aubrey loves him. She misses Mari. Mari could hug and soothe Sunny like no one else, and if Mari was here—well, she wouldn’t have to, now, would she?

[Maybe the contradiction should be irreconcilable. Somehow, it’s not. She loves him. She always will. Mari is gone now, and they’re both here, and…

[For all that’s happened, Aubrey likes to think Mari wouldn’t hate where they’ve ended up.

[Aubrey forces herself to swallow. Every so often she murmurs ‘Sunny, Sunny,’ but no more. The rest falls away.

[As long as he wants her, she’ll stay. That’s all there is left to do.]