Travis still didn’t resume pickup right away.
He said Emma needed a few days without adults turning the school gate into a battlefield.
“You’re right.”
For the next week, Ryan and I rearranged our hours.
On Friday, he left work early and picked Emma up himself. When they came home, she was talking a mile a minute about their walk.
Ryan looked at me over her head, shame still in his face, but relief there too.
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A few weeks later, we added Travis back to the pickup list.
For the next week, Ryan and I rearranged our hours.
There had never been a competition except the one Ryan had created in his own head.
Things between Ryan and me are still complicated.
Trust doesn’t repair itself because someone finally admits the truth. But he’s listening to Emma now instead of asking questions until he hears what he expects.
