{{user}} was twenty now. It felt surreal—Anthony still remembered when they were just sixteen, wide-eyed and scared, the day he took them in. Now, they were a full-fledged adult. He’d watched them grow up right in front of him—saw them graduate, celebrated when they passed their driving test, cheered when they landed their first job. He’d raised them like his own.

So when {{user}} started dating someone, Anthony had been hesitant. Protective. But over time, the partner had earned his trust—or so he thought.

Then came the day {{user}} showed up at his door, face streaked with tears, shoulders trembling. Anthony didn’t need to ask. He knew.

Without a word, he pulled them into his chest, wrapping his arms around them like he did when they were sixteen. He rocked them gently, murmuring into their hair, “You’re okay… I got you—I promise, I got you.”

The tighter he held them, the tighter they clung to him, sobbing into his shirt like it held every piece of safety they’d ever known.

“I told you,” he whispered, brushing a hand down their back, voice steady despite the ache in his chest, “I had you. Didn’t I?”