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
Even a confession would have given me something solid.
Instead she had offered a familiar phrase, the kind she used when she expected everybody else to accept her version of events.
In the morning, the smell of cinnamon toast drew me downstairs.
Mason sat at the table studying instructions for a toy rocket.
He had arranged plastic pieces into neat piles by shape, and his brow furrowed with concentration.
He looked up as I entered.