For one second, the old father in me wanted to make everything easy.
Then I remembered the locked door in the rain.
I opened the gate but didn’t invite them to stay.
“Happy birthday, Dad,” Ethan said.
No speech. No excuses.
Then he handed me the signed papers.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Not because of this. I’m sorry because I watched it happen.”
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“I hope you become someone who never does that again.”
He nodded.
Vanessa looked at me. Her confidence was gone.
“I was cruel.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“Good. Because forgiveness isn’t the same as trust.”
She lowered her eyes.
I wasn’t angry anymore.
That was the part neither of them understood.
Anger still ties you to people.
Indifference lets you walk away.
They returned home across the street.