He pulled his phone from his pocket.
The cracked screen lit up.
Five calls from him. All missed.
Three failed video calls.
Several unsent messages.
My delayed flights.
My conference schedule.
The overseas time difference.
None of it mattered.
He should have found a way.
“I wanted to,” he said. “But every hour I learned something that made even less sense.”
“What do you mean?”
Kyle swallowed.
“The woman I met isn’t the mother I grew up hating.”
Before I could answer, Gladys called from the bedroom.
“Kyle?” Her voice trembled. “I can’t find my little boy.”
Mia quietly stepped beside her.
“Grandma?”
Gladys looked at her.
“He’s safe,” Mia said softly. “He’s right here.”
Gladys’s breathing slowly steadied.
I finally understood why my daughter had chosen the kitchen floor.
Kyle hurried down the hallway.
I followed just far enough to see him kneel beside her.
“I’m right here, Mom.”
She cupped his face with trembling hands.
Then she whispered nine words that made every hair on my arms stand up.
“They told me you were better off without me.”
I stood frozen in the hallway.
Gladys gently stroked Kyle’s cheek.
“They said you were happier without me,” she whispered.
Kyle closed his eyes.
“I’m here now.”
She smiled.
For a moment, every line of worry disappeared from her face. Then she looked around the room, confused.
“Where’s my little boy?”
Kyle swallowed.
“I’m right here.”
She blinked.
“No,” she said softly. “He’s only six.”
She walked past him and sat on Mia’s bed. Within seconds, she drifted to sleep.
Kyle quietly closed the bedroom door. He rested his forehead against the door for a long moment. I noticed his shoulders start to tremble.
I had never seen my husband cry.
Until that night.
“She looked at me,” he whispered, “and apologized before she even knew who I was.”
His voice broke.
“How do you hate someone after that?”
Neither of us spoke until we reached the kitchen.
