And you’re right.

The leftovers were yours.”

Later, alone, I cried into the kitchen towel.

The boys’ quarrel had brought back something I feared losing: the ability to be ordinary together.

I had spent so long defining myself by one son that I didn’t know how to make room for the possibility of two without making Wyatt feel replaced.

Every time I spoke to Austin, I worried I was claiming too much.

Every time I held back, I worried I was abandoning him a second time.