“I missed everything,” I said.
I hadn’t planned to say it out loud.
“Your first day of school.
Learning to ride a bike.
Whatever you were like at fifteen.” I stopped.
“I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty.
I just — I need to say it once.”
“I know,” Claire said.
“And your children,” I said.
“I have grandchildren I’ve never met.”
Tom leaned forward.
“Their names are Rosie and Daniel.
Rosie’s eleven.
Daniel just turned eight.” He took out his phone, turned it to face me, and set it on the table.
Two children on a beach.
Rosie had Claire’s dark hair.
Daniel had a gap-toothed grin and was squinting into the sun.
I looked at the photograph for a long time.
“They know we’re here today,” Tom said.
