Then Noah added:
“I’m not asking you to forgive him.”
“I’m asking you to trust me.”
That was what decided it.
Not Adrian.
Noah.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Okay?”
“You invited him.”
“I’m not stopping him from coming.”
“And I’m not making a scene.”
Noah stood.
“Thank you.”
At the doorway he turned.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
I looked at him.
“Love you too.”
After he left, I did not sleep.
I remembered everything.
The ER stitches.
His first day of kindergarten.
The time he threw up inside my truck and then asked why I looked upset.
Every parent-teacher conference where the teacher looked toward the empty chair beside me.
Every birthday candle.
Every basketball practice.
