I said nothing.
Daniel looked at me.
“Have you been there?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You asked me to stay away.”
He nodded slowly.
“I did.”
Silence settled between us.
Then he said, “My therapist asked me why I was angrier with you than I was with Dad.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You have a therapist?”
“Don’t make this weird.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He threw a cushion at me.
For the first time in months, I laughed with my best friend.
Then Daniel became serious again.
“I told him I was angry because I thought you were taking something away from me.”
“Your mother?”
He nodded.
“I know that sounds awful.”
“It sounds human.”
“She was the one person I could count on when everything else fell apart. And when Dad left, I started thinking I had to protect her from everything.”
He swallowed.
“But she doesn’t need me to decide whether she’s allowed to be happy.”
