“Do you have gloves?” Micah noticed the old man had stuffed his hands deep in his pockets.

“No.”

Micah took out his gloves and handed them to Sal. “Put these on. They’re very warm.”

“Don’t you need them?”

“I’ll be fine.” He paused and removed his scarf, tucking it beneath Sal’s collar. He smiled. “There. That should keep you warm.”

The old man stared at him in wonder, the street lights gleaming in his damp eyes. “You are a treasure, Micah Rose,” he whispered thickly. “Don’t ever give up on love or feel foolish for believing in it.” His throat worked. “You don’t want to grow old alone, trust me.” He smiled small. “Someone as special as you…deserves the best love out there.”

His kind, heartfelt words struck Micah with greater force than he was prepared for. His heart trembled inside him. “Maybe someday I’ll find it.” He smiled softly, his eyes warm with tears. “Or it’ll find me.”

Salvador grasped his shoulder with fatherly affection. “Expecta miracle.”