daughter. The baby is your grandson. I’m not asking you to punish them so I can feel safer.”
That was when Adrian cried.
Quietly.
He covered his face with both hands.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“I know.”
It wasn’t forgiveness yet.
But it was a beginning.
He came home three weeks later.
Things were awkward.
There is nothing cinematic about rebuilding trust.
Sometimes it looks like shared calendars.
Sometimes it means saying, “Maren called,” instead of walking into another room to answer.
Sometimes it means sitting with a counselor
