I hold her hand tight, and tell her that I’ll never let go. She cries on my shoulder for a few more minutes before sniffing and saying “I just really love him. And to…well do what he did…” The reminder that he’s gone sents her into a fresh bout of tears. I hate to think about how it must have felt when her boyfriend of two years left in the middle in the night with nothing but a note saying that it wasn’t going to work out. But I’m trying, for her sake, so I can help her with her grief. We sit in the tiny guest bedroom of my apartment for I don’t know how long, but by the time she’s done crying its dark outside. I walk out of the room and set about closing the blinds and curtains and making dinner for us in my small apartment. She pads out of the bathroom and into the kitchen a few minutes later, and I don’t notice her there until she says “That looks good Sis.” After almost jumping out of my skin, I take in her freshly showered appearance and respond. “Thanks. If you’ll get the plates down it should be ready soon.” I pull the mac n cheese off of the stove and the dino nuggets out of the toaster oven. The meal is reminiscent of our favorite as kids. Back when we didn’t have a care in the world. She eats the food but I can tell she does it more out of habit than hunger.

4 months later

She walks up to me with a smile on her face, glowing with happiness in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. I grin back and follow her into the bookstore, stealing a sip of her coffee along the way. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” She suddenly turns shy. “I don’t know what you mean.” I scoff. “C’mon sis, I know you better than that.” She debates with herself for all of a millisecond before spilling. That she met someone earlier and they clicked and he just makes her laugh and she believes in love again. Then she thanks me.

After all, what is family for?