He Married a Forensic Accountant and Decided Fraud Was a Good Hobby. He Forgot Who My Father Was

Catch up next month. A year ago that would have put a hook of anger in me on Felix’s behalf.

Now it landed as nothing, clean as a closed door.

Rowan had not changed and would not, but his failure to show up had lost, somewhere along the way, its power to touch my house.

I set the phone face-down and looked at the nursery door, and then at my father, and I lifted my tea to him in a small, wordless toast.

My career.

My father.

My son.

And, for the first time in my life, the plain unshakable ground of the truth under all of it.