I put an arm around him, careful to let him decide whether to stay there.

He did.

Outside, snow began falling again, covering the old tire marks in the street.

Inside, the tree lights shone against the crooked cardboard star.

Our lives still held the evidence of mistakes, pain, and choices we could never reverse.

But they also held school projects, shared meals, honest conversations, and the promise of another day together.

I had arrived at Lauren’s door a year earlier looking for a way to say I was sorry.

I hadn’t expected to find a son.