supposed to do.”
I said nothing.
Greg took a breath.
And then, in a voice so quiet I nearly missed it, he said,
“Nobody needs me at two in the morning anymore.”
The sentence landed harder than I expected.
Suddenly, small moments from the past few years came back to me.
Greg checking Emma’s tire pressure whenever she visited.
Greg refusing to throw away Michael’s old flashlight because “it still works.”
Greg standing silently in Emma’s empty bedroom after she moved away.
I had always looked at our children’s independence
