“After she died.”
“I didn’t know she was dead when I left home.”
“But you found out at the hospital?”
“I didn’t know she was dead when I left home.”
“Yes.”
“And you saw me carrying Lucas.”
He wiped his face.
“I panicked.”
“What about the next day?”
Silence.
“I panicked.”
“The next week?”
He couldn’t look at me.
“The next year?”
“You weren’t eighteen for ten years.”
“I kept telling myself I’d waited too long.”
“The next year?”
“And every year made that excuse easier.”
“Yes.”
I believed him. It didn’t excuse him.
“Does Lucas know about me?”
“He knows his father exists.”
“Can I see him?”
“Does Lucas know about me?”
“No.”
His head lifted.
“I’m his father.”
“You are the man who fathered him. What happens next depends on what you do now.”
He swallowed.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’m his father.”
“Write him a letter.”
“A letter?”
“Tell him who you are. Tell him why you weren’t there. Tell him why you’re here now.”
He nodded.
“And don’t blame Teagan.”
“I won’t.”
“Write him a letter.”
“You don’t get credit for showing up ten years late. But you do get a chance to decide what kind of man you’re going to be now.”
***
