She held his gaze.
“I believed you for years.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
For the first time that evening, he had nothing to say.
My father tried to recover his composure.
He picked up his suitcase and straightened his jacket.
“Look, Laura. I know things weren’t perfect between us. I know I handled some things badly. But I came here because I thought we could help each other.”
My mother shook her head.
“You came here because your other plans failed.”
He looked offended.
“After everything we’ve been through?”
“Yes, Daniel. After everything we’ve been through.”
She stepped closer to the doorway.
“I remember the hospital. I remember the pain. I remember wondering whether I would ever be able to hold my daughter without hurting. I remember waking up in the middle of the night because my skin was burning, and I remember being afraid to look in a mirror.”