Temperatures recorded.

Medications given.

Meals cooked.

Appointments kept.

There were no excuses left on the page, no hidden receipts, and no mother’s money backing him up.

Next to the chart, the Braun ear thermometer sat on its small plastic dock, its screen dark and resting.

I heard Ethan’s footsteps come up behind me in the warm room.

He didn’t make any grand declaration or ask whether he was fully forgiven.

He simply stood beside me at the counter, his shoulder brushing mine in the dark.

I reached out, laced my fingers through his, and held his hand firmly in mine.