Wren still thought about the night he found him.
The wound on Benjamin's left thigh had torn open along the old scar line, and the blood loss had been catastrophic. The pregnancy had not survived. Wren had worked through the night, and the night after, and the one after that, keeping watch from the chair beside the bed while Jae took shifts so Wren could rest a few hours at a time. He never stayed away long.
In those first days, Benjamin could not bathe himself. Wren tended to him with wet cloths and cleaned him. His eyes never lingered. He never crossed any line. Benjamin, even half-conscious, had flushed the first time and turned his face away. Wren said nothing and simply continued.
