He shook his head.
I placed the airplane in his hands.
“Mom said he asked about you every Saturday.”
Jeremy stared.
“Even after you stopped coming.”
“What?”
“He thought you didn’t want to see him anymore.”
Jeremy looked down.
I turned the airplane over.
He read the words.
Once.
Twice.
Then pressed it to his chest.
For a long time, he couldn’t speak.
Finally, he whispered, “I spent my whole life thinking he didn’t want me.”
His fingers tightened around the wings.
“And he thought I didn’t want him.”
“He loved you,” I said. “But he hurt you too.”
Jeremy nodded.
“He should’ve opened that door.”
“Yes.”
He looked at our daughters.
“And I should’ve told you.”
“Yes.”
“I almost did the same thing to them.”
