He loved me enough to hope I was right and to arm me in case I was wrong.

I understand now that this was the truest thing my father ever taught me, and that he taught it not in words but in the architecture of that trust.

He did not sit me down and warn me against the man I loved; he would never have insulted my judgment that way, and anyway he knew that warnings slide off a person in love like rain off glass.

Instead he did something quieter and far wiser.