I Went to Apologize to My Ex-Wife on Christmas Eve. Then a Seven-Year-Old Boy Opened a Door I Thought Was Closed Forever
“I almost didn’t.”
“The important part was noticing.”
I stood by the counter, holding the forgotten game pieces.
“Was I always like that?
Acting as though explaining something loudly made me right?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
“Especially when you were hurt or afraid.”
I thought about the photograph of Patrick.