Over his shoulder, Dorothy covered her mouth. I looked away. There were questions I would ask her, things I couldn’t forgive tonight. None of them belonged between Ethan and me.
When we stepped apart, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. I did the same.
“Were you happy?” I asked. “Growing up?”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“I was. My parents are good people.”
“Good.” I nodded, then had to swallow before I could speak again. “That’s good.”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“I should probably let you two talk.”
I wasn’t ready to watch him walk out the door.
We had twenty-five years of birthdays I hadn’t known to remember, school photographs I hadn’t seen, questions I hadn’t been there to answer.
I wasn’t ready to watch him walk out the door.
“Not yet.”
I pulled out the chair beside mine and sat down, leaving my hand on its back until he joined me.
I wanted to know what made him laugh.
“Stay awhile,” I said. “Tell me about yourself.”
