“I’m here now.”
She smiled.
For a moment, every line of worry disappeared from her face. Then she looked around the room, confused.
“Where’s my little boy?”
Kyle swallowed.
“I’m right here.”
She blinked.
“No,” she said softly. “He’s only six.”
She walked past him and sat on Mia’s bed. Within seconds, she drifted to sleep.
Kyle quietly closed the bedroom door. He rested his forehead against the door for a long moment. I noticed his shoulders start to tremble.
I had never seen my husband cry.
Until that night.
“She looked at me,” he whispered, “and apologized before she even knew who I was.”
His voice broke.
“How do you hate someone after that?”
Neither of us spoke until we reached the kitchen.
Mia poured three mugs of tea.
“I’ll go upstairs,” she said.
I caught her hand.
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“I want you here.”
She nodded and sat beside me.
