“Eventually. I think it needs to recover first.”
For a moment, we both smiled.
Then Theo’s expression changed.
“Mrs. Harris, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What is it?”
He looked at Jack’s photograph.
“Jack didn’t want you to know how often he thought about dying.”
I stared at him.
“He talked about it?”
“Not all the time. Maybe three or four times. Mostly after bad scans.”
“Why didn’t he tell us?”
Theo hesitated.
“Because he thought you were already carrying too much.”
I looked away.
“He was our son.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t have to protect us.”
“I told him that.”
“What did he say?”
Theo gave a small, sad smile.
“He said, ‘Yeah, but Mom’s dramatic.’”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
“That little jerk.”
Theo laughed too.
Then he became serious again.
“He loved you both. He wasn’t trying to hide things because he didn’t trust you. He just wanted you to have something to hold on to.”
