He nodded. “I’m sorry, Mom.” This time I didn’t ask him to explain exactly what he meant; he’d spent two years answering through his actions. “I know.”

He looked at me. “Do you think Dad would forgive me?”

“Your father loved you.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“I think Thomas would expect you to keep becoming a better man whether forgiveness came quickly or not.”

Daniel lowered his gaze to the coffee. “That sounds like him.”