Tyler’s pain deserved compassion.
Emma’s pain deserved compassion too.
One did not cancel out the other.
After several minutes, she looked back at me.
“I want to ask him why he did it.”
“Then you should.”
That evening, Tyler called.
He asked whether he could come over and talk to Emma.
She agreed, but only after making sure Daniel and I would be home.
When Daniel heard about the invitation, he didn’t offer to handle the conversation himself.
Instead, he asked our daughter what she wanted.
“I want to talk to him first,” she said. “But I’d like you and Mom to stay nearby.”
“That’s fine,” he replied.
On Saturday afternoon, Tyler arrived looking far more nervous than he had at dinner.
He stood in the living room, twisting the fingers of his sweatshirt.
Daniel and I sat together on the couch. Emma sat in the armchair opposite Tyler.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
