Chapter 5: The Family We Already Were
That was four years ago.
The boys are seventeen now, both headed for universities that recruited them, both still brilliant, both still mine. They’ve never regretted that day in the hallway. We don’t talk about David much — not out of bitterness, just out of irrelevance. You don’t spend much time discussing a person who isn’t in your life, and David isn’t, because the boys decided he wasn’t, calmly and completely, in the span of one awards ceremony.
David reached out a few times after that — the awakened interest of a man who discovered his discarded children were impressive. The twins declined. They were gracious about it, because they’re better people than their father, but they were clear: he’d had thirteen years to be their dad and had chosen, every single day, not to be, and you don’t get to show up for the medal ceremony of a childhood you skipped. I supported whatever they decided, because it was theirs to decide, and they decided they already had the parent they needed.
