leaving would have been simple.
But he hadn’t.
He had been funny, attentive, ambitious, sometimes insecure.
Too eager for his mother’s approval.
Too willing to shrink himself around her expectations.
And at the most important moment of our marriage, he had failed us.
Dad left the room.
Rowan sat opposite me with Leo still in his arms.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I folded my hands.
“Because when we met, every person I knew had an opinion about my father’s
