Ray's POV
She had drooled on my hoodie.
Ten minutes ago, she was ranting like a firestorm about boarding schools and heartbreaks and "where did I go wrong," and now?
Now she was snuggled into my chest, fast asleep, still mumbling something about "never letting him leave the house again without a GPS chip under his skin."
I stared down at the woman who's been everything to me since we were kids.
And I thought, how did I fall so in love with her?
It wasn't the kind of love that bursts in like a storm—it was the slow kind, the quiet kind. The kind that slips into your chest over years, until one day, you're standing there holding her through a meltdown about your seventeen-year-old kissing girls and thinking, this is my entire world.
I gently shifted her so she'd be more comfortable and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. She didn't even stir. Not surprising—Ava could sleep through a riot. Or cause one.
I left her room and closed the door behind me quietly.
Time to have a word with lover boy.
Sebastian was on the balcony, arms crossed, leaning against the railing like he was in a teen Netflix drama.
He saw me and sighed. "She's mad at me, isn't she?"
"No," I said, walking over and standing beside him. "She's heartbroken. Dramatic. A little betrayed. But mostly she's spiraling because she still sees you as the baby who used to chew on her hair."
He grimaced. "That's fair."
We stood in silence for a moment. The California sun was soft now, golden on the horizon.
"She thinks she failed you," I added.
Seb turned his head fast. "What? No! I mean, yeah—I might have… kept a few things from her. But I didn't do anything wrong, Ray. The girls—I mean, yeah, I kissed a few. But I was never a jerk. I was always honest. I swear."
"I know," I said simply. "But it's not about what you did. It's about the fact that you're growing up. And she's terrified."
"She doesn't need to be."
"She will be. Because that's what Ava does. She loves so loud, she panics when you change—even if you're just changing the way you tie your shoelaces."
Seb laughed quietly. "She really said Alaska, huh?"
"She googled it."
We both chuckled.
"Just… give her a little grace," I said, bumping his shoulder lightly. "You're a good kid. And she knows that. But tell her more. Talk to her. Don't make her feel like she's watching you grow up from the outside."
Seb nodded slowly, the joke sliding away into sincerity. "Yeah. I will."
I looked at him—really looked—and for the first time, I saw the man in him starting to take shape.
"She'll always be your biggest fan," I told him. "Even when she's threatening to call the Pope because you kissed someone behind the gym."
He cracked up laughing. "She really would."
We stood there a while longer, just watching the sky.
Two boys who'd grown up beside her.
One who called her Mom.
And one who just… loved her more than he ever knew how to say.