“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” she murmured. “You’re being so adult about this. It can’t be easy.”
Jayden folded his arms around himself. “It’s Darren,” he said weakly. “I just…I don’t mind, ‘cause it’s for Darren.” He still didn’t feel like he could cope, like he could handle it, but…but it was true. It was Darren
She smiled and gathered him into a hug again, her plastic apron pressing into his arms. “Well, if either of you need anything—at any time—you just come and tell me,” she said, letting go and squeezing his bicep in one damp, Fairy-liquid-smooth hand. “And if he wants to spend the night, then that’s fine, but leave the door open, and no funny business.”
Jayden bit his lip against the threatening smile and nodded.
“I mean it! You’re sixteen years old.”
“You were only nineteen when you had me.”