Of all the men in my life, Gine was perhaps the most cautious. It was as if he intentionally made himself as invisible as he could so as not to be noticed.
Yet his presence was constant and steady. I had noticed over the days that while he didn't hover, he would be one of the first there to lend a helping hand the moment I needed it.
"What was it like, where you used to live, I mean." I asked.
Gine looked over and grimaced. He shifted uncomfortably before speaking.
"Lonely?" he began. "My family home was a lot bigger than this hut. I was told to live in a separate home from my family from a young age."
I could see the bittersweet look of nostalgia on his face. It was as if he was mourning his childhood there.
"My mother kept her husbands separated from each other and each had their own household to run. My father, however, passed away when I was very young."
