Dad had made progress in counseling, and our supervised visits had become occasional phone conversations when I felt ready.

There were months when we spoke twice and others when I needed a break.

He learned not to demand an explanation when I said I couldn’t talk that day.

The first time I heard him say “I was wrong” without any qualifications, I didn’t feel the need to test him.

I simply said, “Thank you for saying it.”

Tiffany and I exchanged two letters that year.

I asked her not to send updates about Dad or try to act as a messenger.