had closed the door forever. When that letter came back with your mother’s handwriting, something inside me shut down. I told myself that if a man could reject his unborn child, I had to be strong enough for both of us.”
The guilt pressed against my chest.
“I can’t give those years back,” I said. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for what my mother did and proving you can trust me. I’m not asking you to forgive me today. I’m not asking to return to
