Cracks in the Bond
It started as an ordinary day. Preston and I were outside in the courtyard, surrounded by the usual chaos of the orphanage. The other children ran around playing tag, their laughter echoing across the walls. Preston had been quieter than usual, clinging to me as I sat under the shade of a tree, flipping through an old book.
"Why don't you go play with them?" I encouraged, nudging him gently.
He frowned, shaking his head. "I don't want to," he muttered.
Before I could say more, a group of boys approached. They weren't outright mean, but their teasing had an edge that made my stomach twist.
"Preston, why don't you do anything on your own?" one boy jeered. "You're always hiding behind Caleb."
Another chimed in, laughing. "What are you going to do when he leaves? You'll be useless without him."
Preston stiffened beside me, his small hands balling into fists. Before I could intervene, he stood up, his face red with anger. "Shut up! Caleb's not leaving me! He promised!"
The first boy smirked. "He has to leave someday. Then what? You'll just cry like a baby?"
Preston's fist flew before I could stop him, landing squarely on the boy's jaw. Chaos erupted. The other children circled around them, shouting as the two boys tumbled to the ground, fists and kicks flying. I jumped up, pulling Preston away as he screamed and struggled in my grip.
"Enough!" I said firmly, my voice cutting through the noise. The other boy scrambled to his feet, glaring at Preston before running off with his friends. Preston, however, burst into tears, wrenching himself free from my grasp and running toward the back of the orphanage.
I followed, but he was too quick. By the time I found him, he was curled up in a corner behind the storage shed, his face buried in his knees. "Go away," he sobbed as I approached.
"Preston," I said softly, kneeling beside him. "Talk to me."
He shook his head. "You're going to leave me. They're right. You're going to leave, and I'll be all alone."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. "Hey," I said, reaching out to lift his chin. His tear-streaked face broke my heart. "I'm not leaving you. Not yet. And even when I do, it doesn't mean I'll stop caring about you. I promised, didn't I?"
Preston didn't respond, but he let me pull him into a hug. His small body trembled against mine, and I held him until his sobs quieted.
Later that evening, Mother Charity called me to her office. I could tell by the look on her face that it wasn't going to be an easy conversation.
"Caleb," she began gently, "I've noticed how close you and Preston are. And while it's a beautiful bond, I'm worried about what will happen when you turn eighteen."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
She sighed. "You're seventeen now. You'll be leaving soon, and Preston… he's not going to take it well. He depends on you for everything. That's not healthy for either of you."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up a hand. "I'm not saying you shouldn't care for him. But you need to start preparing him for the future. And yourself, too. Have you thought about what you'll do when you leave? A job, perhaps?"
I shook my head. "I haven't really…"
"Then it's time to start," she said firmly. "Not just for you, but for Preston. The more independent you become, the more he'll learn to stand on his own. He needs that."
Her words lingered long after I left her office. That night, as I lay in bed with Preston curled up beside me, his small hand clutching my shirt, I stared at the ceiling and wondered how I could ever let go of the boy who had become my entire world.