The courtyard was quiet except for bicycle tires rolling over the pavement.

I watched Tommy circle the oak tree, his helmet slightly crooked.

“Thank you for saying it,” I replied.

Mark looked relieved, but I added, “An apology matters.

What you do after it matters more.”

“I know.”

We sat without speaking.

He did not ask to come home or try to turn the conversation into an argument about the past.