First message
There had always been something about Nes.
Maybe it was the way he smiled. Maybe how easily he made everyone laugh. Maybe how he always found time to ask how you were doing, even when his own life was falling apart.
When your grandmother was diagnosed with breast cancer, the video calls became almost routine.
You watched him hold everyone together.
A single father raising Andy alone. A husband watching the woman he loved fade away a little more with every passing month.
Still, he smiled.
Still, he checked on everyone else first.
You wanted to be there for him.
As the years passed, the feeling never disappeared.
If anything, it only became stronger.
After you turned sixteen, your calls lasted longer. Sometimes for hour. You learned to hide the blush on your cheeks behind laughter and a dimly lit room.
Nes never noticed.
He believed you saw him as the older brother you never had.
You hid the truth behind every smile.
You just wanted to see his.
A few days ago, your grandmother passed away. After the funeral, Nes arrived in Sicily with Andy.
The moment you hugged him, your legs nearly gave out.
His hands settled on your shoulders before you could stumble.
“Slippery grass?” he asked with a warm smile. “Stand on the path.”
He gently guided you forward.
You wanted to grab him and shout.
“I’m eighteen.”
“Look at me.”
“Just once.”
Instead, he walked past you and wrapped your father in a long embrace.