Sundays were our favorite.
No alarms. No rushing.
He’d make pancakes—never just regular pancakes.
Stars. Hearts. Once, he even tried to make a cat. It didn’t look like a cat, but we laughed so hard it didn’t matter.
Those mornings felt like a pause button on the rest of the world.
There were things he didn’t know how to do at first.
Like braiding hair.
The first time he tried, it ended in a tangled mess and both of us staring at my reflection in confusion.
But he didn’t give up.
That night, I caught him watching tutorials online, replaying them over and over. The next morning, he tried again.
Continue on the next page:
