Not because he was perfect.
He wasn’t.
Cameron was the easiest man in the world to trust.
He loaded the dishwasher like it was a competitive sport. He could never remember where we kept the batteries. He still insisted the fastest route to anywhere involved at least one unnecessary shortcut.
But honesty came as naturally to him as breathing.
If his phone rang while he was mowing the lawn, he’d shout through the open window, « Can you see who it is? »
When we met friends for dinner, he’d leave his phone on the table and never think twice.
We’d never had a conversation about passwords because we’d never needed one.
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