“Now you have that life.”
Our son began to cry.
And for the first time since he arrived, I felt that his tears were genuine.
“I made a mistake.”
My husband nodded.
“Yes.”
“I was angry. I was tired. I thought…”
“You thought we were standing in your way.”
“I didn’t want everything to end like this.”
My husband looked at him sadly.
“And that is exactly the problem. Not once did you think about what would happen to us. You only started thinking when the consequences affected you.”
Our son covered his face with his hands.
I wanted to hug him.
Every maternal instinct inside me told me to go to him and say that everything would be all right.
But another part of me remembered that journey.
Two small suitcases.
The way he had barely hugged me before leaving.
So I stayed where I was.
After a few minutes, he stood up.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
My husband looked at him.
“The same thing you expected us to do.”
Our son looked at him in confusion.
“Start all over again.”
He headed toward the door.
Before leaving, our son turned around.
“Forgive me.”
I nodded.
