as proof that we’d succeeded as parents.
Maybe Greg had been asking a completely different question.
“After Emma moved out,” he said, “you told me you finally remembered what it was like to wake up because you’d finished sleeping, not because somebody needed you.”
My smile disappeared.
I barely remembered saying that.
“I thought you were happy,” he continued.
“I was.”
“Exactly.”
And suddenly, I understood.
He hadn’t hidden the rescue work because he thought I’d be angry about animals.
He’d hidden it because he was embarrassed by what the
