“I can’t choose.”
“Then we won’t decide today.”
That evening, Denise called. Cole was upset because Nathan had convinced him to keep lying.
“I shouldn’t have put him in that position,” Nathan admitted later.
“You owe him an apology,” I told him. “You frightened us, and you made Cole lie too.”
Then I sat beside him.
“There’s something I owe you an apology for, too. After Dad died, I thought keeping our lives normal would help us both.”
“You stopped talking about him.”
“Because every conversation reminded me he wasn’t coming home.”
Nathan stared at his hands.
“Sometimes I forget what Dad sounded like. Grandpa tells me stories I don’t remember.”
My heart ached.
“I should’ve told you stories, too.”
“You still could.”
I took his hand.
“Come with me.”
In my bedroom closet was a box I hadn’t opened since Michael died. Inside were his notebook, a photograph, his broken watch, and several folded papers.
Related Posts
