I walked toward him.
Theo froze.
For one terrible second, I thought he believed I was coming to take him away from the microphone.
Instead, I wrapped my arms around him.
He broke.
He leaned into me and sobbed against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I held the back of his head.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I thought you’d be angry.”
“I was confused.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t understand.”
He nodded against my shoulder.
“I know.”
I pulled back enough to look at him.
“Finish what you came here to say.”
He wiped his face.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Jack asked you to do this. Let him have it.”
Theo returned to the microphone.
He folded the note carefully and placed it in his pocket.
Then he put his seven pages of prepared remarks aside.
“I actually wrote a proper eulogy,” he said. “It took me three days.”
