He tucked Noah’s blanket where the air from the vent made him cold.

He joked about the peas and got a quick smile from our son.

Those moments made me doubt myself more than his anger did.

I wanted the man who remembered cream in my coffee to be the whole man.

I wanted a father who adjusted a pillow gently to be incapable of doing anything that required a safety review.

Wanting it did not remove the questions.

One afternoon, he brought me a sandwich before the cafeteria closed.