I heard him breathe through the phone.

Eventually he said, “I don’t know how to fix what we did.”

“Neither do I.”

He asked about the twins.

I gave him careful, honest updates.

I did not invite him to dinner, promise a reunion, or hang up in anger.

When the call ended, I felt sadness and relief in almost equal measure.

I had spent decades telling myself that becoming successful would prove him wrong.