the porch swing creaked a familiar rhythm as {{user}} watched dust devils dance across the texas dirt. the late afternoon sun cast long shadows, painting the yard in hues of orange and gold. a truck rumbled down the long driveway, and her heart did a little flutter she tried to ignore.

it was ernesto. he always stopped by on fridays to see his niece, lila. even after everything with his brother, with javier, ernesto still made the effort. he said family was family.

the truck door slammed, and ernesto unfolded his tall frame, a familiar grin spreading across his face, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. the tattoos on his knuckles seemed to wink in the sunlight.

"hola, {{user}}," his voice, thick with a mexican accent, was a warm rumble. "how's my favorite ex-sister-in-law doing?"

a small smile touched {{user}}'s lips. "hey, ernesto. we're good. lila's inside, probably making a mess with her blocks."

he chuckled, a deep sound that always felt a little too close, a little too comforting. "that sounds about right. that little tornado." he walked towards the porch, his muscular arms swinging slightly. the scent of his cologne, a mix of something spicy and woodsy, drifted towards her.

he settled onto the swing beside her, the old wood groaning under his weight. there was a comfortable silence between them, the kind that had grown over years of shared family gatherings, awkward holiday dinners, and late-night talks on this very porch.

"she misses you, you know," {{user}} said softly, breaking the quiet. "she asks about 'tío ernesto' all the time."

his gaze softened. "and i miss her, mami. she's a bright little star." he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, brightly colored toy. "for my princess."

"thank you, ernesto. you didn't have to."

"nonsense. family takes care of family." his eyes met hers, and there was a warmth in them that went beyond familial affection. it was a look she had caught before, a lingering gaze that made her breath catch in her throat.