I recognized him.
Quiet.
Polite.
He had been inside our house twice while Teagan was pregnant.
I barely remembered speaking to him.
A worn baseball glove was tucked beneath his arm.
Then I unfolded the letter.
Mom,
I know you think I won’t tell you because I don’t trust you.
That isn’t why.
He knows about the baby.
I stopped.
My hands began shaking.
Teagan continued.
He wanted to stay. But wanting something and being ready for it aren’t the same thing.
His family keeps telling him this will ruin everything he planned.
I told him not to come back because he’s afraid of disappointing them.
If he comes back, I need it to be because he chooses us himself.